Homeland Novels & Stories

My sister, Nancy Wood, wanted to be the family's only child, so my mother had my name changed and handed my identification documents over to my grandmother. She even told me I had to pay for everything if I wanted to live under their roof. The change and coupons Nancy got from her shopping were the sole source of allowance I'd get. If she saved 30 dollars from her shopping trips, I would get 30 dollars next month. It was the last day for all students to enter their applications for college. I begged my sister to let me use her computer. She extended her hand. "You have to pay me 20 bucks." I fished all the money out of my pocket. I only had 19 dollars. So, I hastily blurted in a panic, "I

After circling another empty street, Dad pulled over and sat in silence with both hands on the steering wheel. "Call the police," Mom said at last. The words barely came out. Dad nodded and picked up his phone. Before he could dial, the screen lit up. The ringtone exploded through the quiet car, sharp enough to make the heart jump. Dad glanced at the unknown number and answered impatiently. "Hello?" I drifted closer and heard a calm male voice from the other end. "Are you Lily Bennett's parents? This is Mercy General Hospital."

see you later, Gator -Dylan* my world had shattered into a million pieces. Dylan had Jane. he knew what my brothers had done. nono had ordered then to add a distraction, but they got my daughter taken. or was there still a rat in the house? how did Dylan know I wouldn't be here with Jane? how did he know where to find us? who was the snitch this time? why did nono give those orders? why would Nono risk giving us away?

HALE: DON'T PANIC. Don't panic? He must've been mad or delirious-or both. I was pregnant and bleeding-that was cause for alarm in my book. I stood in the bathroom with my phone in my hand willing it to ring or chirp. Anything. I needed contact from my doctor, and all I had was radio silence. HALE: WHERE ARE YOU? ME: HOME! HALE: KATE, I DON'T KNOW WHERE THAT IS. CAN YOU GIVE ME AN ADDRESS? ME: 415 PICKWICK PLACE

“I am not stopping you, go ahead. Jump off the ship and swim all your way back to New York City.” “Wait, we aren't in New York City again?” “Of course not, we are halfway to Salado.” “What? Salado? That is in Texas.” She yelled and he nodded. “We will be living there.” “Damien, I think you don't understand what you just did. You took me against my will and somehow you managed to erase the last twenty-four hours of my life and now you are taking me to another country entirely to live with you for ninety days?” “Exactly.”

It astonished him that Joy would willingly do something of that magnitude to stay at Homeland. “She is aware of the damage we can do. This morning I read the files she made on some of us. Justice let me read them after we argued a bit. I wanted to look out for you. All the shrinks’ notes on patients were transferred to Homeland when we were. One of our males told her about how he tore out the throat of a technician who leaned in too close to him while he was strapped down on a table. He could only move his head. Another Species described how he got an arm free and snapped the neck of a guard before the human could even react.” H

The NSO Homeland was the main home for New Species and they also had a huge wooded area they’d bought and named Reservation. She’d been here before but she’d never had to walk through the front gates. She’d come in a helicopter, dropped off females and had promptly been flown out, having never stepped past the heliport area. Now she was going to live and work inside Homeland. It was rumored Justice lived there full-time and that meant she’d probably see him sometimes. “What are you doing here?” It was a guy in his forties who stepped out of line

he asks me. I nod. "It's my ..." I'm about to say home. I remind myself it's not my home. It will never again be my home. That was my promise to myself. And yet ... "It's the Wildlands," I say. "But I think this must be what it is now. Anahita said Vuko's Beta had taken over. Is this what he has done?" I peer closer, trying to make out features in the figures held within the cage. The shapes break up and drift away like tendrils of smoke.

*********************************** LIAM We just landed back in our quiet home town of South Carolina. Except the airport is anything but quiet right now. Reporters line the baggage claim and taxi area, snapping photos and asking personal questions. "No comment." I reply for the hundredth time, as I grab my duffle bag and sling it over my shoulder.

The audio clip started and the image began to move. “Hello survivors, my name is Daniel Shirker, President and founder of Project Humanity’s Last Resort. For those unaware, the world as you know it is over. We are entering a new world, a new age, a world of peace and freedom, but do know, you are not alone. Scattered across the United States are one hundred fifty-one bunkers containing an overall total of one million survivors. These bunkers are meant to serve as your new home. You will live here for three months. There will be enough food and water, as long as you ration properly and utilize the farm to grow food immediately. After those three months are over, the air will return to its pre