Scavenger's Mission (The SkyRyders Book 1)

by Liza O'Connor

  Scavenger’s Mission

  By

  Liza O’Connor

  All Rights Reserved

  Any copying or recording is forbidden without the written permission of the author reproduction of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying, electronic except that allowed by Amazon.

  In other words: if you buy this book anywhere other than Amazon, it’s a pirated copy. Please support Authors instead of Pirates.

  We are much nicer.

  All characters in this book come from the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names, titles or professions. They are not based on or inspired by any known individual and any resemblance to a person living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  All Rights Reserved

  Table of Contents

  A Note on Punctuation:

  Blurb

  Prologue:

  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

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  OTHER BOOKS BY LIZA O’CONNOR

  A Note on Punctuation:

  Long ago when colonists of the New World got their first printing press, it was evidently a piece of crap. To make the wooden blocks fit better, the operator of the printing press decided all fragile punctuation (periods and commas) would remain within the tall dialogue tags for ease of printing. And thus began the U.S. illogical punctuation rule. Convenience ruled over logic. I understand.

  What I don’t understand is why, in the digital world, we cling to this archaic illogical rule instead of returning to the logical British rule that decides the location of dialogue tags by where it logically resides.

  I’m happy to say, some U.S. e-publishers are returning to the British rule of logic in this matter, and so shall I. Here forth, logical dialogue punctuation will be willfully and purposefully used in my novels. It’s not a mistake or ignorance on my part. It’s a rebellion against illogical rules of the past. I encourage all authors and publishers to overthrow silly habits of the past.

  Blurb

  Meet Alisha: A young woman who refuses to live the life her parents want.

  In a single month, Alisha Kane has gone from a wealthy debutante to street girl to scavenger. While testing her new flying skills in the Cully Canyon, Alisha incurs a near-death crash landing. She’s “rescued” by a colonel of the SkyRyders and her life changes forever.

  Meet Logan: A SkyRyder colonel in charge of a sleepy fort with little to do other than arresting the occasional scavenger.

  For the first time in his life, Logan’s attracted to a young woman, only she’s probably a scavenger and he’ll have to arrest her. But first he offers her a shower and food while he checks on his crew. His videographer has captured her extraordinary flight through the Cully and her flying is astounding!

  He forgoes arresting her and puts his career at risk by asking MAC to assess her skills and integrity as a potential SkyRyder. If he can get Alisha into the SkyRyders, it will be his greatest contribution to the Corps.

  Meet MAC: The Artificial Intelligence that runs the SkyRyders Corps.

  Upon seeing her arrival, MAC upgrades Alisha’s test. Her flying skills are not just excellent; they exceed what was previously thought possible. MAC classifies her as its #1 asset and soon she proves her value.

  But…The SkyRyders remain a male-dominated Corps where Alisha’s sense of right and wrong often clashes with her superiors. How long can a rebellious young woman survive in a regimented Corps?

  Prologue:

  Wars are nothing new for the people of Earth. We’ve been killing each other since we first arrived. However, our last war altered our world beyond comprehension.

  The Terror Wars were begun by angry, disaffected people all around the world, who in former lives would have had no voice or way to create serious havoc. Now, with the black internet, not only did they have a voice, but they could wage coordinated acts of violence beyond our imagination. Joined as a loose net of lunatics bent upon destroying the foundation of civilization, they fought to control or annihilate not just a neighboring country, but the entire world. In a single day, their loose net detonated and destroyed every oil site not under their control.

  Naturally, the countries with nuclear weapons replied by obliterating the lands the terrorists controlled and their oil sites, since they did not dare allow them to be the only ones with fuel to fly planes. By the end of the war, no oil was extractable anywhere on Earth.

  While the war killed billions of people, the damage had a far wider reach.

  The people of each continent had to survive on their own. No longer could products or produce be shipped around the world. Huge waves tossed about sailing ships about as if they were toys. The sea levels also rose, reducing the land available for humans and isolating each continent to itself. The United States, Canada, and the small portion of Mexico remaining formed into a single entity called the Americas.

  Due to the holocaust wreaked upon the planet, strange new wind patterns developed around the world, rather like giant stationary hurricanes. While initially damaging to homes and buildings, the winds were harnessed by giant wind farms to provide an ample source of power to give the Americas electricity and heat. Like the creative first Americans, they made use of the changes, rebuilt their buildings to withstand the winds, and reclaimed their country.

  Having no more fuel to fly planes, the army decided their pilots would fly the winds in converted parachutes. While the winds tended to be only fifty miles an hour at ground level, their speed increased higher up, reaching one to two hundred miles an hour. These circular winds rotated in massive stationary hurricanes all over the Americas.

  Needless to say, quite a few soldiers died while they worked out how to fly these massive winds. Eventually they developed a “catcher” that would allow them to take off and fly with the wind, rather like a plastic bag sailing across the horizon. The flyers could convert forward wind into lift by altering the tilt of the flexible yet strong fabrics of the catcher, only in this case it was the win
d that moved and lifted the flier.

  The flier could descend in a controlled manner by flattening the panels, reducing its lift to a negative value. And given that the winds rotated in a large circle, the army could reach anywhere in their cities.

  Still, it was a dangerous job, and soldiers died frequently, sometimes from a sniper on the ground but more often from a defective catcher. If a single panel ripped open in flight, it would cause a cascading failure of panels, resulting in the flyer’s death.

  However, given the lack of jobs, the SkyRyder Corps had no shortage of those wishing to enter its ranks, but it needed quality fliers, which were much harder to find. To entice higher-quality Ryders, the job came with excellent healthcare, something the middle-class could no longer afford. Even better, the Corps covered not just the Ryder, but his family as well, as long as the Ryder remained a soldier in good standing. Most didn’t realize a young cadet only had a thirty percent chance of living through their first three years.

  Naturally, the Corps preferred young, strong men from the middle-class, but they did allow a small percentage of young women to join. To say life was harsh for the female SkyRyders would be an understatement…as our little scavenger is about to learn.

  Chapter 1

  Alisha soared into the canyon of Cully River. Rocky cliffs, over a thousand feet high, stood on each side. Farther above, the walls widened, reducing the wind speed, but here, near the water, her windcatcher traveled at exhilarating speeds reaching nearly two hundred miles per hour due to the narrow wind channel.

  Her newly designed slats enabled her to fly just above the water. Previously, at these speeds, without the slats, the smallest snag of her toe against the river’s surface would have sent her rolling to her death.

  As she approached the canyon bend, she shifted the angle of her slats so their front tips pressed against her stomach. A moment later, she tugged ever so lightly on the two front panels of her windcatcher, increasing their lift capability. Her body soared upward as if an invisible hand had reached down and tugged her to a safer level, where the winds were only a hundred miles per hour, so she could survive the deadly bend in the Cully River Canyon.

  With a single hard tug on the right toggle, she turned within the wider canyon walls. She smiled, pleased with her modifications to her catcher. She recalled the first time she had run the Cully at night. She’d come within inches of crashing into the granite wall at this bend.

  The near-death experience had scared her into avoiding the cliffs for several days while she modified her windcatcher to be more responsive to turning. Now, with her latest improvements, she possessed such control that next time she planned to take the bend at water level.

  Even the idea sent chills down her back. To fly the Cully at night was dangerous, but to take its bend so close to the river…unthinkable! Yet these dances with the impossible made her only more determined to enhance her equipment and improve her flying. Anything could be done with the right equipment and flying skill.

  She adjusted the toggles, sending herself higher, and soared to five thousand feet before the canyon ended. The flatland of Broadtown had a Ryders’ compound, and Ryders believed the air was their domain alone. However, at this height, they’d never see her or her catcher flying above. And even on the slim chance they did, they’d never be able to catch her.

  Here, the canyons stopped and the river broadened to a section almost a quarter-mile wide. She stared down upon the twinkling lights of town and wondered about the residents of Broadtown. Were they cutthroat and deadly like those in the Capital, or desperate and mean like the men and women of Doakstown? Perhaps they were something entirely different.

  Their homes were certainly different—small, self-contained houses made of concrete and brick. The Capital consisted of crowded steel caverns. And Doakstown… Well, a “home” in Doakstown hardly qualified as shelter.

  Feeling a sudden change in the wind, Alisha stopped her woolgathering and focused on flying. To her surprise, her windcatcher deflated before her eyes. She assessed her situation calmly. A frontwind must be coming from the east. A quick glance at her altimeter watch showed she was now at four thousand feet and falling fast. The standard response to a stalled wind was to re-inflate the windcatcher the moment she fell beneath it and float it down like a parachute. Unfortunately, if she did that, she’d land in the water beneath her, which held large meat-eaters that some called freshwater sharks. She’d be torn apart the moment she hit the water.

  Seeking a better alternative, she noticed farther up that the river narrowed significantly, making its shoreline her best shot. Instead of re-inflating her windcatcher immediately, she leaned into the tips of her slats until they pressed against her stomach and aimed toward the left bank. To ensure she would reach her target, she collapsed her catcher completely so it wouldn’t cause as much drag. Taking advantage of her large, baggy suit, she spread her arms wide and glided down toward the bank, knowing this narrow section of the river had to be deep, which would make it a favorite spot for the meat-eaters.

  The wind pounded against her body and roared in her ears. Standard flying with a windcatcher produced no wind in her face, only a slight breeze from the back as it pulled her along a mere second slower than the wind. However, with a collapsed catcher, gravity became the key force as she dived toward the earth.

  She targeted the marshlands at the edge of the river, but at her current speed and angle, she feared a lethal crash-landing if her windcatcher didn’t open on command. She considered reopening it early so she’d have a chance for a second try, but her trajectory was too close to the river’s edge. If she opened her catcher too early, she’d land ten feet in the river. Ten feet from the shoreline would be just as deadly as landing in the middle.

  She focused on her desired landing site, estimating her speed and mentally calculating the time she’d need to open the chute. Trusting her intuition, fifteen feet above land she pulled the toggles to reopen the catcher.

  Within less than a second, she felt the jerk of the harness as the chute opened and slowed her descent. Unfortunately, the catcher was pulling her back toward the river.

  Damn it! I opened it too soon.

  Collapsing it again, she stretched toward the shore and hit hard on the thick, marshy edge of grass.

  The grasses softened her impact, but it still took a few moments to regain her senses. She lay precariously on the riverbank with her feet dangling over the edge. Careful not to wiggle her legs or feet, lest she entice a meat-eater to jump from the water for a tasty morsel, she reached out, grabbed the bottom stalks of the tough river grass, and slowly pulled her body forward.

  ***

  “Flyer in trouble,” the old toll-taker yelled, pointing into the air. “One of yours?”

  “Damn well better not be,” Logan said as he watched the flyer with a collapsed catcher soar at an angle over the Cully River, heading toward the left bank. Logan saw no way this would end well. Yet through some incredible manipulation of the collapsed catcher, the flyer actually landed on the edge of the bank. Unfortunately, his legs dangled over the water.

  “Poor fool,” Logan muttered, knowing the inevitable tragedy about to occur. At the first wiggle of those legs, the meat-eaters prowling this section of the river would break the surface and pull him under.

  Logan watched in amazement as the flyer slowly pulled himself onto the bank without seeming to move at all. Only when his legs were two yards inland did the flyer stand and move father away. Once a safe distance from the meat-eaters, he stared across the water. Logan followed the direction of the flyer’s stare and saw his catcher had fallen on the east side of the river.

  “Damn lucky fool,” Logan declared as he hurried to the catcher.

  Chapter 2

  Once Alisha moved fifteen feet from the shoreline, she looked across the water to see where her windcatcher had fallen. She sighed with relief when she spotted it on the east bank. If the catcher had landed in the water, the meat-eaters wou
ld have torn it to shreds. She couldn’t afford a new catcher. She still owed her friend Denny a bundle for this one.

  She spotted a small footbridge just a hundred feet downstream. If she could create sufficient tension to keep her lines above the water, she could walk across the bridge and retrieve her catcher. The trick would be not pulling so hard that her catcher slid off the bank.

  She was gently testing the lines to see how securely the catcher rested on the bank when she noticed the silhouette of a large man approaching it. She unlatched her harness and stepped out of the bindings.

  Given the value of a catcher, she thought it very probable the man intended to steal it. She suspected he’d prefer the current owner in the Cully as fish bait, rather than alive on the bank objecting to the theft. If she remained in her harness, one sharp tug on the tension ropes could send her to her death.

  ***

  When Logan reached the catcher, he gathered up the tethers. He cursed when he realized the damn fool on the other side of the river still wore his harness. He tried yelling, but the noise from the rapids made any attempt at communication futile. He tried to raise the cadet on his comm unit. When he didn’t get a response, he realized the flyer wasn’t a SkyRyder.