Ella`s Story
My Love From The Future
BOOK TWO

Chapter 10 : Survival

Episode 21 : October 19-25 2019 Saturday 9th grade

Copyright © 2019-2025 Gary Brandt. All rights reserved.

The high school classroom feels stifling on this Saturday morning, its stillness a stark contrast to the crisp November air outside. Ella, Roxana, Eileen, and Helana shuffle in, bleary-eyed and grumbling. A week-long school break looms—meant for teacher training and maintenance, with homework assignments no one expects to be completed—but this mandatory class cuts into their freedom. A breakfast table offers pastries and juice, but the girls pick at it, too sleepy to eat. Alisha Patel, Ella’s mother, sits quietly near Melanie Crenshaw, her presence adding an unexpected weight to the morning.

“First, some business,” Commander Beaker says, standing at the front, his voice clipped. “The Pentagon’s Medical Countermeasures team has flagged a potential biological threat. We’re distributing pill packets for you and your families—one daily. They’re mostly vitamins and minerals to boost your immune system, reducing the risk or severity of illness if exposed. Don’t skip them; your health is critical. If you do get sick, we have additional meds to speed recovery.” He hands out small, sealed packets, their metallic sheen catching the light. The girls exchange uneasy glances, the vague threat settling like a shadow.

Melanie steps forward, her silver hair glinting. “Take your seats, girls. We have a treat today: Ella’s mom is joining us. Our focus this week is survival. Alisha will share her father’s story of surviving a dark time in India, now Pakistan.” “Mom?” Ella says, slouching. “Please don’t bore us with Grandpa’s hippie stories. We’ve heard them.” Alisha’s eyes narrow. “Don’t be a brat, Ella. This isn’t about his hippie days. It’s a grim story we’ve kept from you, but with survival training starting, you need to hear it. Over a million died in India—if my grandfather hadn’t known survival skills, our family wouldn’t have survived, and you wouldn’t exist. Sit up and listen.” Chastened, the girls straighten, their usual defiance fading.

Alisha’s voice softens, heavy with memory. “My father was born in 1945, during World War II, in India under British rule. It was a brutal time globally, worse in India, where colonial oppression deepened poverty and tension. We’ve spared you this part because it’s ugly, but you need to understand how fragile order can be.” She projects black-and-white photos onto the wall—emaciated bodies strewn across Calcutta’s streets, vultures perched on ledges. The girls wince, the images stark and unrelenting. “When the war ended, Britain was bankrupt,” Alisha continues. “Their empire crumbled, and they couldn’t afford to hold colonies like India. They planned to grant independence, but ignored India’s religious divide. Most were Hindu or Sikh, but a quarter were Muslim. Under British rule, Muslims were protected, but independence sparked fears of Hindu persecution.”

She clicks to another image: bloodied streets, burning homes. “Fear turned to hatred. In 1946, the Great Calcutta Killing erupted. Thousands were slaughtered in days; hundreds of thousands fled. Look at these vultures eating the dead. I know it’s horrific, but you must see how fast things spiral. You may face such atrocities in your lifetime.” Eileen frowns. “People were dumb back then. That wouldn’t happen here. Aren’t we awakening?” Alisha’s gaze hardens. “The 20th century taught us much, but don’t be naive. These horrors persist globally—genocide, displacement. Complacency blinds you. Smart people warn it could happen here.”

She continues, “The violence forced Britain to act. In 1947, they partitioned India: Pakistan for Muslims, India for Hindus and others. It didn’t stop the fighting. Muslims in India faced persecution, fleeing to Pakistan; Hindus in Pakistan fled to India. Tens of millions were displaced. Disease and violence killed a million. My father’s family, in what became Pakistan, had to flee to India, abandoning everything. My great-grandfather’s foresight saved them—a ‘bug-out bag’ with survival essentials. They avoided cities and refugee camps, where starvation and violence raged, trekking through farmlands to safety.”

Alisha pauses, meeting their eyes. “Today, Melanie will teach you to prepare a bug-out bag. And we have a surprise: since there’s no school this week, we’re spending it on a beach.” “The beach!” the girls shout, their gloom lifting. “Which beach?” Eileen asks, eyes bright. Melanie smiles. “A remote South Pacific island—white sand, clear water, palm trees. It’s uninhabited, with no buildings, perfect for survival training. You’ll learn to fish, cook, find edible plants, and avoid poisonous ones. You can swim and play, but these skills could save your life if things go bad.”

“Navy survival specialists will set up tents and guide you,” she adds. “Parents are welcome if they can take off work. Alisha’s coming.” “How do we get there?” Roxana asks. “It’s a trek,” Melanie says. “We’ll fly to San Diego, then take a helicopter to a Navy ship. From there, a boat to the island. We’ll have radio contact—no Gilligan’s Island mishaps.” “Who’s Gilligan?” Roxana asks. “An old TV show about people stuck on an island,” Ella says. “It’s dumb.” “Helana, you’re quiet,” Melanie says. “What do you think?” Helana smiles faintly. “I’m happy with my people. It sounds fun. I’m ready.” “Is there Wi-Fi?” Roxana asks. “No internet, radio, or TV,” Melanie says. “Bring your phones for music or photos to upload later. We’ll teach you to set up solar chargers. Instructors will have satellite phones for emergencies.”

The South Pacific island is a paradox of beauty and challenge: turquoise waves lap at white sand, but the dense jungle hums with insects. The girls, in cargo shorts and Navy-issued tees, stand ankle-deep in surf, their faces flushed from the sun. Alisha watches from a makeshift camp, where Navy tents dot the beach. “What’s Roxana screaming about?” Alisha asks, shading her eyes. Ella, gutting a fish with a practiced hand, laughs. “Fish guts fell on her foot, and she lost it. Roxana’s not cut out for this. If we’re ever lost for real, just hug her goodbye—she’s not coming home.” “Don’t be harsh,” Alisha says. “She’ll step up when it counts. It takes time.”

After a meal of fried fish and MREs—meals ready-to-eat, tasting of cardboard and salt—the girls gather around Agent Rodgers, a grizzled Navy survivalist. He hefts four large backpacks, unzipping one to reveal its contents. “These aren’t hiking packs,” Rodgers says, his voice rough. “They’re bug-out bags, for when you flee home fast—storms, quakes, or worse. I’ll show you each item’s purpose and use. This isn’t military crash-site survival with just a knife. It’s civilian preparedness.”

He pulls out a tool strapped to the pack’s side. “This is a Pulaski axe, for chopping wood or clearing debris. Strapped beside it is a machete, in a sheath—sharp enough to hack through underbrush. Both can be weapons if needed, but that’s not their main use.” “I think Eileen’s got weapon skills covered,” Ella says, smirking. Rodgers ignores her, holding up a small bottle. “Potassium iodide tablets. These protect against radioactive iodine from nuclear accidents—like Fukushima, Three Mile Island, or Chernobyl—not just bombs. Radioactive iodine collects in your thyroid, risking cancer. These fill your thyroid with safe iodine, blocking the bad stuff. Take them *before* exposure; after, it’s too late. They won’t save you from a blast, so avoid cities or bases if one’s coming.”

He lifts a red pouch. “American Red Cross first aid kit: antibiotic ointment, antiseptic wipes, gauze, bandages, cold compresses, thermometer, scissors, more. Critical if you’re hurt. Check it regularly—replace anything used at home. You won’t have time during a crisis.” “Roxana used to steal band-aids and stick them all over herself,” Eileen says, grinning. “Her mom was furious.” “Shut up, Eileen,” Roxana mutters, blushing. Rodgers continues, holding up a coil. “Starter rope—strong, like lawnmower pull cords. Use it to hang food in trees, make a hammock, snare game, or a hundred other tasks. Don’t forget rope.”

He shows coffee filters and a Clorox bottle. “Water’s heavy—you can’t carry enough for days. Filter debris with these, then add a few drops of Clorox per gallon to kill bacteria, fungi, parasites. You can make coffee too, if you brought grounds.” Next, a compact tent and sleeping bag. “This single-person tent sets up fast, fits in the pack. The sleeping bag’s thin but warm, with a mylar lining to reflect body heat. A mylar emergency blanket adds insulation or wraps around you. Sleep under stars if you want, but cold ground’s no joke.”

Over the week, Rodgers demonstrates each item, guiding the girls through fishing, fire-building, and foraging. At first, they resist—grumbling about early mornings and sore muscles—but the island’s rhythm captivates them. They spear fish, roast roots, and laugh under starlit skies, their skills sharpening faster than they expected.

Back in Ella’s bedroom, the familiar scent of lavender and books is a comfort after the island’s wildness. Exhausted but restless, she opens her diary, the week’s lessons heavy in her mind.

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NEXT >> Chapter 22
Prophecy

Four teenage girls meet with one of their fathers at a restaurant, where Helana—a time traveler from 500 million years in the future—reveals that a mid-century global conflict will nearly wipe out 95% of life on Earth, but her three friends will become key figures in humanity's resistance and eventual rebuilding. Later that night, as the girls have a sleepover, Helana confides her fears about forgetting her origins and not knowing her role in the changed timeline, while Ella encourages her to focus on living day by day rather than worrying about predetermined futures.

<< PREVIOUS Chapter 20
20

Four teenage girls with telepathic abilities are recruited by the Navy to use their psychic powers to locate the source of mysterious cries for help in Cincinnati, Ohio. Their investigation leads to the discovery of a horrific pedophile trafficking ring involving children from Earth and other planets who are being exploited as `pleasure children` for criminal adults.

FIRST Chapter 0 Sleep Over

Thirteen-year-old Ella and her best friends Eileen and Roxana encounter an interdimensional being named Helana during a sleepover, who appears as different benevolent figures to each girl and reveals glimpses of their legendary futures. When Helana tries to leave after accidentally revealing herself and disrupting their timelines, Ella cleverly traps the entity by claiming authority over her domain, forcing Helana to stay as their `genie in a bottle` despite her pleas to return home.