Hoodwinked in Hotlanta

  Copyright © Elizabeth R. Jensen 2024

  All rights reserved

  Gryphon Publishing

  Jefferson, GA 30549

  www.gryphon-publishing.com

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a database and retrieval system or transmitted in any form or any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the owner of the copyright and the above publishers.

  Please do not participate in or encourage the piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Editing by Pam Elise Harris

  Copyedit/Proof Reading by Madison Schutlz (Southwind Editing)

  Cover Design and Interior Design by The Illustrated Author Design Services

  Map Design by The Illustrated Author Design Services

  Acknowledgments

  Hoodwinked in Hotlanta really pushed me to step outside of my comfort zone of middle grade fantasy. The premise for the book began with a family discussion about COVID-19 and the lasting impact it has had on society. At the end of the conversation, I had a lot of what if questions on my mind. Then I realized, what if I wrote a book about it?

  I began to write and was filled with uncertainty about whether anyone other than me would like this story that was begging to be written. So, I started telling people about my idea, friends, family, and strangers. They were intrigued, most said they would read it. Encouraged, I continued working on what is now Hoodwinked in Hotlanta.

  Many thanks to friends and family who have offered encouragement throughout the book creation process.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Acknowledgments

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  Thirty-Four

  Thirty-Five

  Thirty-Six

  Thirty-Seven

  Thirty-Eight

  Thirty-Nine

  About the Author

  One

  Elyse

  On a Wednesday morning in July of the year 2125, in Jackson County, Georgia, in the pearly gray dawn light, Elyse Hutchinson was riding her golden-colored horse, Honey.

  A tall, solidly built, twenty-one-year-old woman with long red hair in a single messy braid, Elyse was wearing a well-used tan cowboy hat, a green long-sleeved button-up shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots. She had inherited the horse ranch from her parents. Her great-great-grandmother had started the family horse breeding business over one hundred years ago, before even COVID-19 had happened. Petting Honey’s neck, Elyse took a deep breath. A few weeks ago, the most important thing to her had been discovering more about her family. Part of her regretted the decision to dig into the past. She should have just accepted what she knew and left everything alone. Except then I would have never met Josh Everly or discovered I have a magical talent, she thought.

  Honey nickered, drawing Elyse back to the task at hand: checking the fence line that bordered the old Highway 124, one of the few paved roads that was still safe for a car to drive on. Elyse had been hoping to get an early start before the sun and the humidity made it almost impossible to be productive. And yet here she was, daydreaming instead of taking advantage of the cool morning temperature.

  Elyse clucked to Honey, urging the mare to continue forward at her steady walk. The sun began to peek over the top of the tallest grass-covered rolling hills when a sudden feeling of foreboding hit Elyse, causing her to sway precariously in the saddle. Honey reached back with her nose and nuzzled Elyse’s boot, as though checking to make sure she was okay.

  Elyse shook herself to get rid of the bad feeling. Magic, she reminded herself. What I am feeling is my magical talent doing…something. Even after everything that had happened, she still had these feelings—premonitions, or whatever Catrina had called them. Supposedly, she would eventually be able to fully control them so they would only come when bidden, but Elyse was skeptical.

  Giving Honey a quick hug, Elyse returned to the task of checking the fence line, eyes expertly going over each post, looking for weakness or loose barbed wire. Honey tossed her head slightly, causing Elyse to look up just in time to see something shiny coming toward them on the worn-out highway. With the scarcity of cars since long before her birth, she never paid much attention to the highway other than ensuring that her fence was secure. The fence bordering the far side of the highway was the property line for the thousand acres that belonged to her good friend Jessica’s family. This section of the pasture she was currently assessing was a fairly flat field, bringing the fence a mere ten feet from the edge of the highway.

  Raising her hand over her eyes to block out the bright sunlight, she squinted, trying to see the winding highway better. “Look, Honey, it’s an actual vintage car!” she said, disgust tinging her voice as the roar of the combustion engine got louder. It was one of the old models that were around long before COVID-50, before the automobile industry and the US government forced everyone to have exclusively electric vehicles. And yet look where that got us. Now over half of the population in the US can no longer afford enough electricity to power even the most basic things—a lightbulb or hot water heater.

  Honey snorted and flicked her ears, bringing Elyse out of her thoughts as another wave of foreboding hit her. This time the feeling was accompanied by an image of the car in flames. Rubbing her eyes with the palm of her hand, Elyse shuddered. The car is clearly not on fire. Honey can run fast, but not as fast as a car, so I can’t do anything about the flames. Catrina might be able to teleport, but I can’t. She giggled at the thought of teleporting herself on Honey somewhere, wondering what the horse would think of that.

  The driver of the bright red sports car sped up, blasting past Elyse before the highway disappeared around a curve and the rising hill in the pasture. Honey pawed the ground.

  “I know, girl. I’m not impressed either. C’mon, we’ve got work to do.” Elyse clucked, and they continued their trek along the fence. When they got to the top of the hill, she’d be able to survey almost all of this pasture’s fence for any major defects. Elyse kept her eyes on the fence with Honey dutifully following the well-worn path. Twice a year they checked the perimeter fence, unless there was a bad storm or other disturbance. Over the years, the trees had been cleared away from the fencing so that when they did fall, they would land in the middle of one of the fields instead of damaging the fence.

  Boom!

  Honey jumped sideways at the unexpected sound.

  “Easy, girl.”

  Boom!

  Honey danced around. Terror rushed through Elyse as she realized that a sound like that could mean just one thing. Her feeling of foreboding and the vision had just come true. “C’mon, girl, let’s go!”

  Elyse dropped her hand and gave the mare her head. Honey leaped into a full-speed gallop up the hill. Elyse shifted her weight, and Honey slid to a halt at the top.

  On the highway below was the red sports car they had seen minutes before, crumpled and smoking.

  “Shit,” Elyse whispered before urging Honey down the other side of the hill as quickly as they could manage. The horse eagerly found her way down the rocky southern side of the hill, their speed sending the occasional cascade of rocks tumbling ahead of them.

  Safely at the bottom of the hill, Elyse maneuvered Honey as close as they could get to the car before throwing herself off her horse, concerned about whoever was driving the car. She rushed forward and immediately regretted doing so. She started coughing as the dark black smoke billowed toward her in waves. Rolling her eyes at her stupidity, she reached into her back pocket for a bandana and tied it over her nose and mouth before continuing closer. She easily jumped over the fence and headed across the road to the car. Dark smoke poured out of the back half. Crossing her fingers, she hoped that someone would come along and find them. She wasn’t sure how much help she could be with only a few fence repair tools at her disposal.

  When Elyse was close enough, she could see what the car hit. A black steer. She rolled her eyes at the thought of a stupid city person who had gone out for a joyride without considering that there could be loose livestock wandering around. The smoke cleared for a moment around the steer, and she was surprised to see that it looked more
like a hunk of metal than a dead black Angus. The steer was the least of her worries though. The vintage car had a driver. Of that she was certain.

  “Hello?” Elyse called. She walked around to the driver-side door. She grabbed the handle and tugged. It wouldn’t budge. She tapped on the window but was having trouble seeing the driver as the smoke was rapidly filling the inside of the car.

  Elyse scanned the ground and found a big rock; she quickly grabbed it.

  “If you’re awake, shield your eyes!” she warned before throwing the rock as hard as she could against the window. The rock bounced off and clattered to the ground.

  Flames licked around the edge of the car. Cursing to herself, she knew her window of time was rapidly disappearing. The other door, duh! Elyse rushed to the other side. The passenger door handle was almost too hot to touch. After a moment’s hesitation, worried about getting badly burned, she gripped the door handle firmly and tugged. Much to her surprise, the door opened.

  Coughing, Elyse waved her hands, trying to clear the smoke to see who was inside.

  “Are you okay?” she called. No answer. Elyse climbed into the car, smoke stinging her eyes, trying to see the driver.

  Realizing trying to see was futile with the smoke, Elyse gently searched with her hands for the driver. Her fingers finally met firm, well-muscled human flesh. Running her hands over what she assumed was an arm, she slid her hand down to the person’s wrist to check for a pulse. Whoever it was was currently alive, and she intended to keep them that way.

  Gently reaching around the person, she successfully found the seatbelt and was able to follow it to the buckle.

  “Please work,” she whispered before pushing down on the seat buckle’s latching mechanism. Click. With a gasp, she let go of the seatbelt as it released. Wrapping her hands around the arm, feeling certain the person was shaped wrong to be a woman, she gave a big tug. He didn’t budge. Growling to herself, Elyse wrapped her hands more firmly around his arm and tugged again. This time it worked, and she fell backward out of the door and onto the pavement with the stranger half on top of her.

  Elyse struggled, trying to get out from underneath him. She finally freed her legs and stood, then grabbed the man by the arms and dragged him to the other side of the road. She felt as though this stranger was somehow familiar, almost like Josh. But Josh didn’t have a car like that, did he? I’ll figure out who I just rescued as soon as we’re far enough away from the car, she thought, but before she had a chance to get a good look at the stranger’s face, the car exploded. The blast threw Elyse backward into the fence, and she blacked out.

  two

  Elyse

  Three weeks earlier, Friday, June 2125

  Elyse emerged from the last stall at the end of the aged but well-maintained ten-stall barn with a faded blue horse halter in her hand. Pieces of hay and shavings were sticking to her yellow T-shirt, which had seen better days. She slid the stall door shut and hung the halter on a hook nearby. Running a hand through her hair and coming back with a handful of hay, she smiled and shook her head ruefully.

  “Bye!” called Mya from atop her brown horse, just outside of the barn. Mya’s short blonde hair was barely visible under her worn dark-brown cowgirl hat. Mya had been working for Elyse for just over a year now, a highly recommended replacement for Juanita, the sole employee her ranch had had for over forty years.

  “Bye!” Elyse yelled back with a wave as she headed up to the house for the evening. Elyse paused for a moment to admire her house. It was large by building standards in 2125, but before COVID-50 would have been considered tiny. The house had weathered wood siding and trim with three bedrooms, a kitchen, and a living area in eight hundred square feet. The roof was metal and covered in ancient but still-functioning solar panels that had been installed when the house was built in 2035, as a residence for the live-in stable manager, Juanita’s father, Pablo. In 2070, the main farmhouse burned down, and with the scarcity of materials, instead of replacing the farmhouse, Elyse’s grandmother, Brianna, decided to move into the house and build a small cabin for Pablo. With one last glance around the yard and pastures, Elyse headed inside.

  Walking toward the fridge first, she prepared a light meal, undecided yet if she was going to meet up with the locals at the club Cubed in town or if she wanted to go into Atlanta tonight. Shaking her head, she wondered, not for the first time, if the effort of keeping her city persona separate from her everyday one on the ranch was worth it. But no one out here in Jackson County would understand.

  After COVID-50, the division between farmers and city dwellers had deepened exponentially. Even though the city dwellers and the government relied heavily upon the farmers for their survival—as providers of the primary source of food—their interaction was minimal. Farmers didn’t go into Atlanta, or any of the other remaining cities, and the city dwellers stayed in their high-rises.

  In Georgia, most of the smaller suburban cities had disappeared completely. Some had been reclaimed by the forest, and others had been turned into farmland. Even downtown Atlanta had shrunk significantly. The east side of the state was made up of three counties. The west side of the state was a large government-controlled solar farm. Elyse had heard that it was one of the largest solar farms in the whole country, but she wasn’t sure how reliable the source was. What she did know was that it was heavily guarded.

  No, it’s better if my two lives stay separate—and safer for everyone.

  Her meal finished, Elyse was still undecided on her plans for the night. What she really wanted was to be able to let her worries about the ranch disappear for at least a few hours. Walking into her bedroom, the heels of her work boots echoing across the smooth, well-worn wood floor, she opened the top drawer on the nightstand and pulled out her cell phone—a small flat piece of glass—and turned it on. It was one of the “luxury” items she had to have if she wanted to go to the city. No one in Jackson County could afford a cell phone. They all used landlines. But everyone living in Atlanta was unwilling to give up the convenience of a cell phone. So, they paid whatever ridiculous price the government demanded to have access to the cellular network. Scrolling through her contacts, she found the one labeled Quinn and touched the phone to call.

  “What’s up, girl?” Quinn answered in excitement before the first ring had finished.

  Elyse laughed at Quinn’s enthusiasm. “Are you busy tonight?”

  “Hmm…nope! Want to meet me at Three Dragons in an hour?” Quinn asked in a singsong voice.

  Smiling to herself at Quinn’s eagerness, Elyse said, “I need two hours.” She hesitated before adding, “I have a few things to wrap up here.” She knew that Quinn would accept the excuse for needing more time without question.

  “Okay. I’ll see you in two hours!” Quinn replied before hanging up.

  Shaking her head, Elyse returned the phone to the nightstand before heading into the bathroom to take a shower. Her uncle Albert, who lived in Atlanta full time, introduced her to Quinn’s family more than ten years ago. Since then, the girls had stayed in contact. Three years ago, Elyse decided to start spending time in the city on a regular basis, as though she were living there. Craving the opportunity to forget about the hardships of being a rancher a couple of days a week, Elyse knew that if her parents, especially her mother, were still alive, she likely wouldn’t feel the need to get away from the responsibility of running the ranch on her own, but she couldn’t change the past.

  The car accident that had killed both of her parents had happened five years ago, on their way back from dinner in the city, when Elyse was sixteen. Although her uncle thought Elyse should give up the ranch and move to Atlanta full time, Elyse couldn’t bring herself to abandon the life she grew up in. There was no one else on either side of the family left to keep things going if she quit. Her mother had not raised her to be a quitter. Elyse’s only living family was Uncle Albert, who she thought was likely in his eighties, and her aunt Grace, who was her father’s sister. After Elyse’s parents died, her aunt had stopped coming out every summer to help. She cited being too old as her reason, but Elyse suspected the loss was much harder to bear when Aunt Grace was at the ranch. Elyse couldn’t blame her aunt, though, because it was much the same reason that she felt like she needed to get away to the city.