VOLITION (Perception Trilogy, book 2)

by Strauss, Lee

  Against my better judgment I followed him out of the house, grabbing a jacket and wrapping my arms around my body against the cold. Wind blew at my hair and snowflakes landed on my eyelashes. I wondered as he dragged me through the forest in the middle of the night if I’d somehow end up fighting for my life, and I wished I’d been able to snag my gun before I was whisked away.

  Turned out I didn’t need to worry for my life yet. We reached the back side of the shed and good ol’ Finn removed a mat covered in wet leaves, and opened a hatch. I followed him down steep cement steps into a dimly lit musky room—an underground bunker. I could hardly contain my surprise.

  A place like this would be handy in case of catastrophic events, such as a nuclear war fall out. Or a hideout from a humanoid invasion. I expected to see rows of narrow bunk beds and shelves of canned food and bottled water.

  I didn’t expect this.

  Chapter 8

  A table along the front wall had an old-style, plastic encased laptop sitting on it. It was booted up, so Finn was obviously online. Beside it sat a high-tech printer and other electronic gadgets. A glass cabinet on the wall housed ammunition. A crap load of guns.

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” I said.

  Finn’s ginger eyebrows jumped. “Surprised?”

  The word hypocrite came to mind.

  “I don’t get it.” I shoved my hands into my pockets. “What’s with all the pacifist talk? Isn’t gadgetry of the devil?”

  Finn grinned sheepishly. “It’s time for me to make my confession. It started with Rebecca. She’s got a condition, you see, and she was going to die. I just couldn’t let that happen. So I, uh, found a science kid—the kids are the smartest with these things—to help me.

  He pointed to the elaborate printer system. “I pour in the ingredients, turn it on, and it prints the medication. I put it in her breakfast juice. She doesn’t even know.”

  My father would’ve done anything for me when he was alive, so I could understand how Finn would bend his own rules to save his daughter. Still, it felt a little extreme.

  “What about all this other stuff?” I asked.

  “It kind of grew over time,” Finn said. “Rebecca’s needs changed as she grew and the science kid needed to email for the updates on the medications.”

  Finn grabbed his suspenders. “Then I got hooked on reading the news.”

  I stared at him suspiciously. “Why are you showing me this?”

  “Because, I know who you are, Noah Brody. I read your blog.”

  He read my blog?

  “There’s more than one Noah Brody in the world,” I said. It was true. Like most people, I’d web searched my own name.

  Finn rolled on his heels. “Maybe so, but this Noah Brody hasn’t posted since you got here.”

  “Coincidence.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  I shifted my weight and eyed him cautiously. “So, let’s say, hypothetically, I’m Noah Brody and that’s my blog. What of it?”

  “I want you to keep posting. Hypothetically.”

  I shook my head. “Why?”

  “Technology is taking over the world in an evil way. GAPs are the devil’s spawn. Humanoids are tools of the Antichrist and are becoming common place.”

  I pointed to the rack of guns. They weren’t all ordinary guns you used bullets with. There were at least four military laser-rifles. “What about these? I heard you arguing with Ike. This doesn’t look like you’re a serious pacifist.”

  “I’m a family man, Noah. I’ll do what I have to protect mine if it comes down to it. I pray it doesn’t come down to it.”

  “Why don’t you let Ike in on your secret? He’d be a lot happier if he knew.”

  “Ike’s a loose cannon. If he knew about this—” he waved to the guns, “—he’d be storming every store and household in Marley that had a humanoid working for them. Trust me, it’s better if he believes what I tell him.”

  I ran a hand through my hair, still unable to digest what I was seeing and hearing. “We’re leaving first thing in the morning, y’know.”

  “I know that. Which is why I had to wake you up and bring you here tonight. You need to get at least one more blog in. Encourage the people to keep up the fight.”

  “At least one more?”

  “Who knows how things will go for you where you’re headed.”

  It wasn’t very comforting that Brother Finn didn’t have high hopes for my future. But I really did itch to get online.

  “You probably guessed this, but we’re running from people. I can’t chance being tracked here.”

  Finn tapped the table with a dirty fingernail. “It’s secure. Science kid guaranteed it.”

  I wasn’t eager to blog again, but I did want to check in on my brothers. “Okay.” I sat on the chair in front of the screen and shot Finn a look over my shoulder. I didn’t want him standing there, watching.

  “I’m going to wait here,” he said pointing to a more comfortable-looking chair. He sunk into the worn fabric and closed his eyes and started snoring softly in two seconds flat.

  It felt weird to log in again. I let my fingers hover over the archaic, plastic keyboard. Not surprisingly, my last post on the senator garnered a boat-load of comments that I didn’t have time or energy to respond to. Finn wanted a new post, and I’d better give him one if I hoped to eat breakfast in the morning.

  Hey, fellow GAP dissenters. I’m alive, but due to circumstances beyond my control I had to go into hiding. It may or may not have been due to the last post (ha). Stay true to the cause. Email your officials, organize your own peaceful protests. Start your own blogs. Let your voices be heard.

  Two minutes later, the comments column started filling up.

  Freedom Fighter 689:Seriously, you’ve had death threats, man?

  GAPhater88: The time for peaceful protest is over. Let’s storm the GAP City gates!

  Peaceatanycost: Brody, you’re our leader. Just tell us what to do!

  My blood surged. This was exactly what I didn’t want.

  I typed: It’s not time to respond with violence. Patience my fellow troopers.

  GAPhater88: You’re getting soft, Brody

  Peaceatanycost: Shut up GAPhater. Violence isn’t the answer.

  I closed the blog. My heart stammered. I’d leave them to sort it out for themselves. I wasn’t responsible for the actions of every radical who read my blog.

  I quickly wrote an e-mail home to Skye, letting her know we were okay, but deleted it before I sent it. Too dangerous. I still couldn’t believe how fast they’d tracked us last-time. I’d have to find a way to contact her in the future, but I couldn’t deal with that now.

  Instead I clicked on a news site and entered Zoe Vanderveen into the search.

  A groan rose up from my gut. Three full pages. Lots of speculation on what could’ve happened to her. She’d drowned. She’d been kidnapped. No surprise, Noah Brody was still the prime subject of interest. My picture came up at least a dozen times.

  Each story recapped with the unfortunate and suspicious death of Zoe’s brother Liam just three weeks earlier, and wondered if the two events were connected.

  Bad luck for the Senator’s only two grandchildren.

  Knowing that we were still big news out there made me even itchier to get back on the road. I was afraid we’d stayed here too long already.

  I logged off and turned to Finn to report my efforts, but he was still sawing logs. I slipped by him and back up the cement steps and breathed in deeply of the cold, fresh air. The night sky was beginning to lighten and I hadn’t had any sleep yet. I followed the path from the woods to the house and entered quietly.

  Mercifully, sleep came immediately after my head touched my pillow. I awoke in what felt like mere minutes later to the rising of the guys for chores.

  Because there wasn’t any electricity and therefore no artificial lighting, everyone went to bed early and woke up early—like, at the crack of dawn—which meant n
o slipping out for me and Zoe. I hated awkward good-byes.

  I pushed back at the fatigue, counting on adrenaline to get me through the day. A jittery restlessness buzzed through me as I dressed.

  The other guys were shuffling into their pants—homemade trousers with button up flies. No belts. Suspenders were the fashion accessory of choice.

  Taylor put his hand on my arm. “I heard Finn come for you last night. I hope he wasn’t too hard on you.” My gaze landed on his hand as I shifted away. I spotted a small white scar along the fleshy part between his thumb and forefinger.

  Taylor caught me staring and swiftly shoved his hands into his pockets.

  The weight of what I’d just seen hit hard. Once upon a time Taylor Blake had had a chip. That meant he hadn’t been born and raised within this religious group. Finn had told us up front that Taylor and his sister Hannah were adopted by the Galloways, but from where and why? I was suddenly very curious about the Blake siblings’ past.

  “Is it true you’re leaving today?” Taylor asked.

  “That’s the plan,” I said.

  Which didn’t happen. The fact that I could see my breath in the freezing coldness of the room should’ve been my first clue. I shivered and begrudgingly put the long sleeve shirt on that they’d made me wear. I heard the windows whistling but it wasn’t just a windstorm this time. The white stuff was falling hard and thick.

  “It’s September,” I said.

  “Yeah,” Taylor acknowledged. “It’s what they call a freak snowstorm.”

  “Is that what they call it?” I couldn’t be more annoyed. At loverboy or at the weather. My car was built to run in California’s climate. It wasn’t winterized, and that meant we were stuck here until the storm blew over.

  Damn.

  The women were already busy in the kitchen, and I wondered if Zoe would survive another day being forced to develop her domestic skills. I hated that we couldn’t spend more time together. The last thing our fraying relationship needed right now was a further breakdown in communication.

  I tagged along to the barn, putting on the winter jacket Simon threw at me and pressed head first into the wind. I wasn’t much help and admitted I didn’t know anything about milking cows. I stood back warily, not wanting to get kicked or thrashed by a tail.

  “Why don’t you gather the eggs then,” Taylor said. “Or do birds frighten you as well?”

  I gave him a dirty look and headed for the chicken coop. Truth be told, birds did frighten me. Especially ones with pointy-sharp beaks and weren’t afraid to use them. Was I supposed to actually stick my hand under their feathery butts and steal their babies without them drawing my blood?

  Instead I waved my hands and shooed them all off their perches. Loud cackling, and manic wing-flapping ensued, filling the small coop with feathers and dried chicken crap dust.

  I plucked the eggs out of the nests and placed them in the basket I’d found up by the door as gently as I could in the chaotic environment.

  I headed straight to the back door that led to the kitchen. Zoe took the basket from me.

  “Get in here before you freeze to death.”

  I shook off the snow. “What’s with this weather?”

  “I don’t know, but it means another day on the set of Little House on the Prairie, doesn’t it?”

  A joke. That was awesome. Zoe was alive in that nun’s outfit somewhere.

  “Patience, my dear.”

  “I’m not sure what that is.”

  I reached for her hand and peeled back the new bandage Taylor had applied. “It’s looking better,” I said.

  “Yeah, I still feel naked without it.”

  Another voice interrupted. “Naked without what?”

  Rebecca had been watching our exchange. I pressed the bandage back down. “Are you eavesdropping?” I said, ignoring her question.

  “You’re in the kitchen. It’s not intended for private conversations.”

  “Zoe?” Dorothy called, giving me a look that said, Get out. “We could use those eggs over here.”

  Zoe scowled. “You said one day.”

  Chapter 9

  In the afternoon I helped Philip Ranger knock icicles off the buildings.

  He had light red hair like his father, but the finer facial features of his mother. He was slight in build but strong, and I had to work to keep up with him.

  “Why aren’t you in school?” I asked. “You know, when you’re not snowed in.”

  It was almost the end of September, well into the school year. Zoe would’ve been a senior at her school in Sol City if I hadn’t stolen her away.

  “Don’t need schooling past eighth grade,” Philip said. “Before that, I was homeschooled.”

  “Why don’t you need schooling past eighth grade? Everyone else goes to twelfth grade at least.”

  Philip ducked as a cluster of icicles crashed to the ground. “Once you can read and got your numbers, what else do you need? As long as you can read the bible and build a barn or a fence, you’re good.”

  “What about history, or science?”

  “We got all the history we need to know about in the bible. Science isn’t necessary to survival. All that evolution stuff they teach is just a bunch of lies.”

  “I’ve read the bible, you know,” I said.

  Philip stopped and stared at me with surprise.

  “I don’t think you have to reject science to believe what you read there,” I added.

  He scoffed. “Tell that to my mother.”

  I’d worked up a full sweat by the time we’d finished and undid the top buttons of my coat. Philip left for the barn, and I followed him, uncertain about what I should do next. I veered toward the shed to check on the car. It was cold and I wanted to make sure it still started. I stopped to rest on a hay bale, and scooped up a handful of snow to quench my thirst.

  That was when I spotted Zoe leaving the house. She skated along the icy surface of the walkway, and tilted her head back to catch snowflakes with her tongue. Taylor’s blond head popped out from behind a tree. He didn’t see me, but he sure saw her. His gaze followed her as she played and a wry grin tugged at his lips. He gathered snow, pressing it into a ball and threw it, hitting her squarely on the back.

  I was about to rise to her defense when I heard her laughter echo across the snow. She obviously wasn’t upset by the attack.

  Taylor’s mischievous grin grew bolder and he formed another snowball. He threw it toward Zoe, just missing.

  “Hey!” she said. A smiled pulled up crookedly on her face.

  If they had looked around at all they would’ve seen me, but their eyes were zeroed in on each other.

  My fingers curled into fists at my sides.

  Taylor bent down to gather more snow.

  She scooped some up and shaped her own snowball.

  She’s going to engage him in a fight?

  A flare of anger crept up my neck. I wanted her to tell him where to go and to leave her alone. I wanted her to do it, but she didn’t.

  She threw her snowball hard and hit Taylor right on the side of his head. I grinned a little.

  Taylor’s eyes widened and then he sprinted toward her.

  She yelled and headed for the barn, laughing loudly. My lips drew downward into a deeper frown.

  “No, you don’t,” Taylor said. His hands grabbed her shoulders and he spun her around. They fell together into the snow bank, his nose inches away from hers.

  It was like watching a train wreck as it was happening. I couldn’t pull my eyes away.

  Taylor’s hand was full of snow and he held it up as if he were about to mush it into her face.

  “You wouldn’t dare,” Zoe said, grinning. Her voice carried over the snow like it would over water.

  Taylor’s hand fell to his side, but his eyes never left Zoe’s face. “Is Noah Brody courting you, Miss Morgan?”

  My heart stopped as I waited for her answer. The silence of the forest echoed over the field, through the tr
ees, enveloping the farm. Finally her lips moved.

  “No, we’re just friends.”

  My throat seized up. Anger boiled in my gut, a hot wave about to crash to shore. Where was my Zoe? I didn’t know this girl anymore.

  I waited for her to push Taylor away. Time froze with the weather. She didn’t move. He narrowed the distance between their lips until they touched.

  I shouted, “Zoe!”

  Her head jerked to the side. She scrambled out from underneath him, smoothing her coat, and straightening her wool cap.

  Her hand flew to her mouth as she glanced back at Taylor. He tipped an invisible hat and left us alone.

  Chapter 10

  Shards of anger, hurt, and regret, all twisting erratically and drawing blood, sheared my heart and soul. I spun back to the shed, and kicked the door as I went in.

  I couldn’t believe her!

  My legs quivered as I pressed against the car, needing it to hold me up. My heart skipped and jumped and skydived over a cliff. I crossed my arms tightly across my chest as if that could hold it in.

  She stood in the doorway in her overly big winter coat, her long, cotton dress dragging on the shed floor. I glared at her.

  She stared back, her eyes glistening, the light streaming in from a small window reflected in her pupils.

  “I’m sorry, Noah.”

  “You kissed him.”

  She wrung her hands. “I don’t know what got into me. I just got swept up in the moment.”

  “Swept up in the moment?” I huffed with disbelief. “You put yourself in the moment, Zoe. I saw you.”

  She stepped closer. “Noah, please. I’m really, really sorry. I messed up, I know. I’m just confused.”

  I ground my teeth and shook my head. I’d made a mistake by taking Zoe from her family. A huge, freaking enormous mistake. I should’ve left her alone, left her with Alison and Paul and Jackson. She was one of them. She deserved them.

  “I’m an idiot for thinking I could fix you,” I said in a low, strained voice. “You don’t remember us.”

  Pain filled her eyes at my words and for a moment I was glad. I wanted to hurt her like she’d hurt me.