Oceania: The Underwater City

By: Eliza Taye

Copyright Page

Copyright © 2016 by Eliza Taye

All Rights Reserved

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book. The only exception is brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, businesses, organizations, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Dedication

For all who dream of the sea and especially those who one day hope to live beneath it.

Table of Contents

Oceania: The Underwater City

Copyright Page

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Epilogue

Review Request Page

Acknowledgements

Author’s Note

About the Author

More Books by Eliza Taye

Chapter 1

The door slammed and creaked against its hinges as it nearly collided with the steel siding of the house before returning to its rightful place with a satisfying bang. It groaned as if it wanted to break at any moment, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was getting away. Getting away from my aggravating family and my annoying full name of Alexandria, which I could still hear Gran yelling at my back as my feet stamped down the dried, yellow grass on her front lawn. Rolling my agitated eyes, I increased my pace down the elongated pathway to the gate.

Glaring back at the house, I took in its sorry state as I passed it by. Peeled yellow siding revealed the gray steel skeleton of the ranch house. The porch sagged from the roof with a slight tilt to the left. The two windows on either side of the porch hung open to let in the soft breeze, rippling the bright blue window curtains. Everything about it was old, stuck in a time reminiscent of ages gone by. It was the home in which my mother had grown up, and was why I had to leave it. I couldn’t stand to be reminded of her for another moment.

Things used to be different. It wasn’t always this way. Before Mom and I moved from San Antonio, Texas to Chicago, Illinois, where she landed her dream job, I didn’t have to spend summers with Gran in this sleepy little town. I had friends. I had things to do in the summertime, but Chicago is too dangerous for me to run around wild by myself, or so Mom says. So, now I’m stuck here: Sunnyville, California, population 30,000. I didn’t even know towns so small existed anymore until Mom banished me here.

Sunnyville had to be the most boring place in all of California to spend the summers. Formerly a Navy military base, all that remained was a shell of a town with mostly old people and very little for a teen like me to do. There is only so much time I can stand playing Scrabble with my grandmother before I go crazy.

Gran’s face appeared in the glass window of the front door and I snapped my gaze to the road ahead, kicking up dust as my feet dug into the earth to push my body forward. Tears burned inside my eyes, but I fought to blink them back. I wouldn’t cry like a weakling…I wouldn’t cry over the way my mother treated me anymore.

The road adjacent to Gran’s home was the only man-made feature in the area. Abandoned fields of dying grass and old crops long withered in the unforgiving heat crowded in on either side of the road for hundreds of yards in each direction. The solitude was absolute, leaving me alone on the road to run out my frustration.

I knew the center of the small, rural town of Sunnyville to be somewhere in the general direction the winding road would take me. I’d run about a mile or so before I finally reached it. Little novelty shops, a few restaurants, a grocery store, and the town bank lined the asphalt paved road down the center of Main Street, making this town the first one I’d ever seen still using asphalt instead of indestructible kryotyte. I slowed to a walk when I passed underneath the town welcome sign spanning the width of the road. Ignoring the empty street, I headed over to the boardwalk just outside the line of shops to the right. Peeking inside the windows of each storefront, I expected to see holographic displays meant to dazzle the mind and induce a shopping spree, but instead, trinkets and other souvenirs stared back at me.

Taking notice of the signs on the door, most of the shops didn’t open until ten or eleven. Digging in my jean shorts pocket, I pulled out my omniphone and checked the time—it was only nine in the morning. Shoving the omniphone back into my undersized pocket, I kept moving on down the boardwalk.

It didn’t take me long to see every shop, since there were only about twelve or so of them. Trailing the wraparound boardwalk to the side facing the ocean, I discovered alternate entrances on this side as well.

Removing my attention from the dull shops to gaze out at the ocean, I expected to see the so far absentee residents frolicking in the sea. However, no human dotted the beach or bobbed in the ocean. I started to wonder what was going on with this little town. What sort of seaside town didn’t

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