Creative writing began at age eight for Lorena Gay when she started to pen her first chapter novel, “Baseballs Don’t Bounce”. This potential literary masterpiece unfortunately did not make it past chapter three. Lorena, however, kept writing. While earning her BA degrees in English and Spanish at University of Florida, she completed her honors creative thesis on the 11M bombings of Madrid and published the short story “The Big White Blanket” in the literary journal, The Mangrove.
In her spare time she travels a lot, snowboards occasionally, watches Manchester United and the Pittsburgh Penguins, and tweets paronomastic comments to C-list celebrities. She’s an avid collector of cassette tapes, her most prized find being Salt ‘n Peppa’s Blacks’ Magic for 99¢ at Rock ‘n Roll Heaven in Orlando. Lorena currently lives in Portland, Oregon with her super awesome husband.
Chapter 21: Fjords
I followed behind them up the same stairs we had gone down months ago, before my initial surgery. I wondered if they had taken me out the side door to transport me to Romania. I had been unconscious during it all, so it was likely. I didn’t ask. I was more concerned about how Diana and Costin would react to seeing me. The last time hadn’t ended so well, and now they were essentially fugitives, which was entirely my fault.
Chapter 20: Parting
He was going in through the front door without any weapons. Kalyna and I were entering from beneath to find Ruel, who we assumed was in the interrogation room. I would bring Ruel back to the car, and Kalyna would meet Jeremiah in the archives room to destroy the files and footage they had of all four of us. I’d pick them up, and we would all drive off into the sunset, or something like that. In the back of my mind, I was assuming none of us were making it out of there.
Chapter 19:
Now Bradbury? Was the organization some sort of global dystopian book club? I thought back to the Hebrew exchange between David and Ruel at MIT. Translated it was from Cat’s Cradle. And the Speaker for the Dead reference Ruel had me make before, was that some sort of code?
Chapter 18: Sway
Like everything else in Myrtle Beach, even the cemeteries seemed to be thrown together at the last minute. I yearned for the churchyard in Timisu de Sus with its ancient tombstones, weathered and cracked, covered in snow. The stones here were too new; the sunlight glared off their glossy finish and made it difficult to read the engravings.
Chapter 17: Gin
None of the government offices or military bases within the city borders had made communication with the outside. It was assumed they were being held captive. U.S. troops were trying to get into the city by flooding in from all sides, but so far there hadn’t been a tactical advantage. The Russian siege had been too well planned and too unexpected, leaving Boston in isolation.
