by SF Benson
Alliance: the rebel organization in opposition to the New Order
AR: American Republic, the name of the former United States.
CHA: Centers for Human Advancement, run by the government
Hybrid: a multi-ethnic person living in the AR
Purebred: a person of single ethnicity
Network: a splinter unit of the Alliance
New Order: the technocratic government of the AR
Resistance: what the New Order is calling rebels
For another memorable dystopian couple,
check out Kat and Reynan in
Finding North
by Allyson Gottlieb
Sometimes you have to lose everything to find what you’ve really been looking for.
Kat and Tyler were childhood sweethearts, inseparable in all things. When he was drafted into the Alliance army, it was only natural that she would join up, too. Then he dies in battle, and Kat is left adrift, with her heart shattered but her life still tied to the Alliance. Going through the motions and fulfilling her obligations is all she has left, until the day her unit gets caught by the enemy.
When Reynan Caverly saves Kat from military prison, the only thing she knows is that his father started the civil war that caused Tyler’s death. Kat is shocked when Reynan takes her to his Las Vegas home, a lavish place in contrast to her impoverished upbringing. Vegas has become a playground for the military elite, and as much of a danger zone as the battlefield. The only way she can stay safe is to rely on Reynan.
As animosity fades and affections grow, Kat and Reynan realize that they have more in common than they first assumed. But in a country decimated by disease and divided by war, nothing comes without a price.
CHAPTER ONE
Katherine
“Up, Kat.” Jeremy nudged my shoulder with his knee. “Break’s over. Time to get going again.”
I groaned, rubbing my temples and keeping my eyes trained on the ground. “I’m tired…”
“We have to keep moving. You know that.” He gave me a sympathetic look, holding out his hand to help pull me to my feet.
“Do you have any more water?” I asked as I stood up from the large rock, reaching back to tighten my ponytail. “I drank all of mine.”
He sighed, pulling out a half-full bottle from his backpack. I murmured a soft “Thank you” before twisting off the cap and taking a long swallow.
“Nordby, Zova, stop dawdling!”
Jeremy shot me a glance as we both quickened our pace, dead leaves and sticks crunching under our feet. The trees we marched through were short and sparse, casting unusual shadow patterns in the piercing sunlight. My calves screamed at me for a moment when we started walking again, but slowly the pain in my leg muscles faded into a more manageable, steady ache. I still wasn’t used to all this exercise, and my body was having its revenge.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said after a while, when we were no longer trailing behind the rest of the group. Jeremy had always looked out for me like an older brother, but in the last few weeks I’d noticed him hovering around me more than usual, like he thought I needed a safety net.
“What else was I going to do? I couldn’t sit around base anymore, where everything reminded me of him…” I tensed, hands curling into fists at my sides. “I had to do something,” I said finally.
“You’re a medic,” Jeremy said patiently. “You don’t have enough physical training. And you’re small—”
I shot him a glare that stopped him cold.
“It’s dangerous out here,” he finished instead. “I’m just worried about you.”
“So it’s okay for all of you to risk your lives, but not me? It was okay for Tyler to risk his life?” When I realized what I’d said, I inhaled sharply, my lungs tightening as though someone had knocked the wind out of me.
After a moment, Jeremy placed a hand on my shoulder. “He loved that you were strong. But he would have wanted you to be safe.”
I turned to look him in the eye, feeling a heaviness in my chest like there was a lead weight sitting on it. “We’re at war, Jer. No one’s safe.”
He shook his head sadly, then turned away and kept walking.
I sighed, uncurling my fists. My nails had left bright red half-moon-shaped grooves in my palms, but I didn’t feel them. I hadn’t felt a thing in almost three weeks, like loss had turned me numb, hollowed me out from the inside.
It was the inescapable reality of being a solider that you would have to see people you cared about die. I’d known what I was getting into, had weathered loss before, but this one was different. This death hurt like I’d lost a part of my soul.
I felt aimless, like someone had cut the strings tethering me to the earth—and was enjoying watching me struggle to find my balance again. Guilt, sorrow, and rage churned inside me in a bitter and potent combination, each emotion fighting for dominance, making me unstable and my moods unpredictable.
That was why I was here, sweating and aching under the relentless sun and putting up with Jeremy’s patronizing comments. The longer I sat around doing nothing, the worse I felt, so when I heard Commander Matthews was looking for a medic for his recon mission, I was the first to volunteer. I’d hoped that the danger and physical exertion would help get my mind off Tyler.
Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be working.
My thoughts slipped to my family. There was at least a two-hour time difference from here to Ohio, so Corinne was probably finishing her homework, or maybe starting dinner. She would have likely gone to the market on her way home, since we tried not to use our refrigerator during the week to save money on the electric bill. Both our moms were probably working late again, so she’d invite Tyler’s siblings over when it was time to eat.
I could almost picture it now, all of them huddled around the little table in the fading summer sunlight, smiles on their faces as they laughed and joked with each other. Zova and Vaughn families blended, like it had been seemingly since the beginning of time.
I wondered if they knew yet.
Probably not. News takes time to travel from the front. They might not find out for weeks yet. Weeks where he’ll be rotting in the cold, hard ground…
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, blurring my vision, and I harshly wiped them away, refusing to let anyone see me cry.
If I couldn’t sweat out my feelings, I would have to exorcise them in some other way.
The blade sliced through the air with a sound like the snap of a whip, embedding itself in the tree trunk with a sharp thwack.
“Hey, Evan,” I said, pulling the knife out of the tree and walking it back over to where he sat a good six feet away.
Celery-green eyes looked up at me in curiosity. “You need something, Kitty-Kat?”
I rolled my eyes. Evan Wilder was a goofball and a flirt, but he was a good guy through and through. I’d worried it would be awkward, being the only one without a Y chromosome in my unit, but my fears quickly evaporated once I got to know the guys. Now they were as much like family as my mother and sister.
“Actually yeah, I do.” I could feel Jeremy’s eyes on me across the clearing and studiously ignored him. “Can you teach me how to use that?”
The playful smile slid off of Evan’s face. “What do you want to be throwing knives for?” he asked, his expression guarded.
He tried to hide it, but I saw the way he looked at me—like I was a piece of fragile glass he worried might break. The same look all the guys had been giving me since Tyler’s death. I was so goddamn sick of it.
My hands began to tremble with the pent-up emotion, and I squeezed them into fists to hide it, keeping my voice light. “For self-defense. If I’m going to be out here, I want to be prepared.”
“But you have a weapon, don’t you?” He nodded to the handgun tucked into the holster of my belt. “I thought every medic learns basic weapons and self-defense. Besides, you’ve got all of us to protect you, Kitty-Kat.”
I huffed out a bre
ath, feeling the uneasiness start to build in my blood. I needed some kind of release for these feelings—the anger and sorrow and guilt—before they ripped me apart.
I couldn’t fall to pieces in front of the guys. I just couldn’t.
“Please, Evan,” I pleaded, lowering my voice. “Show me what to do?”
Evan sighed. “Fine. I must be crazy for agreeing to this, but all right.”
I exhaled, my shoulders slumping with visible relief.
He got to his feet and steered me away from the others. Before he handed me the slim silver blade, he showed me how to carefully position my fingers in the right way around the handle. They were sweaty with anxiety, and I felt my grip slip slightly.
Evan noticed and called me out on it. “Not like that, or you’ll nick yourself when you let go. Like this.” His hand covered mine and moved them back in the right place. “Better. Okay. You did target shooting in basic, right?”
I nodded.
“Same idea. Fix your mind on the target, aim, and fire. You might want to take a step forward to counterbalance the release. And keep your wrist absolutely stiff. Otherwise when you let go, you’ll be in a hell of a lot of pain.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re giving me the briefest crash course ever?” I asked, preparing myself as best I could with the information he’d given me. The rest of the world seemed to fall away as I readied myself to throw the knife, the intensity of my focus blocking out everything but the sound of Evan’s voice.
“Because I really don’t think you’re in the right state of mind to be doing this.”
I glared at him, while secretly wondering if he was right.
“But you seem so determined to try it, so go on. Try and hit that.” He pointed to a tree some five feet away, the only one in the clearing with a somewhat fat trunk.
I rolled my eyes then snapped my wrist back and released the knife with barely a second’s pause, imagining the tree trunk was Alistair Caverly’s head. It flew through the air and bounced against the trunk before falling to the ground.
“You need more power if you want it to stick. But not bad. Try again.”
“I’ll show you more power,” I grumbled under my breath, heading over to pick up the knife. Evan’s chuckle died off abruptly, and the skin on the back of my neck started to prickle with a sense of uneasiness.
Behind me came the unmistakable click of a gun being cocked.
I froze.
“Drop the knife, little girl, and keep your hands where I can see them.” The voice was low, rough, and brooked no opposition.
Fuck…
I did as I was told, my heart hammering against my chest. Slowly, bringing my hands up to my head, I turned around to stare down the barrel of a gun. Not a little one like the one at my waist. This was a full-on machine gun, the kind that was bigger than my arm and could probably kill us all with one round.
Not good…
“Turn around and walk. And don’t even think of trying anything funny,” the man with the gun ordered. He was dressed in all black with a hood pulled over his head, like some kind of twisted Grim Reaper.
This was the first time I’d ever seen the enemy soldiers, but I still recognized them. It was impossible not to.
I tasted something sour in the back of my throat, vaguely recognizing it as fear. Jeremy was right—I shouldn’t have been on this mission.
I wasn’t ready to die.
The gunman led Evan and me back to the clearing where the others were gathered. More of the black-dressed men surrounded them, all holding weapons of the same caliber and technology. One man whose muscles nearly bulged out of his uniform stood in the center, presiding over a pile of our weapons.
“Oh look, a pair of lovebirds,” he remarked. “Thought you could sneak off for a little lover’s tryst and get away, did you?”
The man laughed cruelly. He seemed to be the enemy’s commander, though he wore the same black gear as the rest of them with no ornamentations. Another rifle was slung across his back in addition to the one he held in his hand.
He fixed his eyes on me in a way that made my skin crawl. “She’s a pretty little thing. Makes up for the rest of you. I wouldn’t mind taking her for a ride myself.”
“You take that back,” Evan growled. He lunged forward.
Bang!
A gunshot echoed through the dead woods and Evan fell face-first to the ground, blood dripping from a hole in the back of his head.
I let out a gasp without thinking, my eyes nearly bulging out of my head as I clasped a hand over my mouth. Every cell in my body was screaming at me to run, but I knew if I took so much as one step out of line, I would end up just like Evan.
Oh God, Evan…
Tears sprung to my eyes. One minute he was joking around, teaching me how to throw knives, and now he was dead.
This is war. People die. It happens. Pull yourself together.
“Anyone else care to join him?” There was a sinister smile on the man’s face as he cocked his gun, waving it through the air.
“Now, now, no need to get trigger-happy.”
Another man dressed in black pushed his way to the front. He was the only one of them not wearing a hood, but his hair was jet-black and his face turned away from me. Though he looked and sounded younger than the man I’d thought led the group, the enemy soldiers seemed to defer to him.
“What did I say earlier? No killing unless it’s in self defense.” His voice was calm yet firm as he addressed his men—and I was now sure that was what they were—turning to look at each of them in turn. “We won’t know until we’ve talked to them whether these soldiers will be useful to us.”
“I could find a use for the girl in my tent.”
I couldn’t tell which one of them said that, but the laughter and jeering catcalls that followed came from them all. Revulsion crashed over me with an intensity that made me want to vomit.
“Enough!”
If I’d had any doubts about his ability to command a group of soldiers, they were erased when I saw how quickly the laughter died off. His was a different kind of authority than that of the man who’d smiled while Evan died, but no less compelling.
He scrutinized our group, his cool stare seeming to assess us for all our worth. It wasn’t the same way the others looked at us, though, like they were itching to use us as target practice. His gaze seemed more…humane.
Finally, he turned in my direction, giving me a good look at his face—sharp and angular, and definitely younger than the rest of the enemy men. I felt a jolt like an electric shock sizzle up my spine as his blue eyes looked me over, flickering briefly with something unreadable.
“Take them back to the safe house and put them in the basement for interrogation,” he said, turning back to give the order to his men.
“Whatever you say, Commander Caverly.”
My eyes widened. Every member of the Restoration Alliance’s army knew that name.
Alistair Caverly, the man who started a civil war when the population could barely support a single army.
But he looks so young… How can that be him?
“Except for the girl.”
My heart stopped as he pointed his gun toward me. A million horrible things ran through my mind, bringing back the urge to vomit more strongly than before.
“Take her to my room.”
Finding North is now available in ebook and in print
First of all, I thank my family for their continued patience and support. I especially appreciate my daughter’s work as my assistant.
My critique partners—Allyson, Susan, Neeny, and Cherry! You taught me so much with this book.
A special thank you to KD Wood. Girlfriend, if it weren’t for you the Alliance Chronicles wouldn’t exist. You helped me name it, and recognized its promise.
My copy editor, Maria Pease—You’re brilliant! You continue to teach me and help me improve.
I thank my cover designer/artist, Regina Wamba. You are so gifted. Wh
en we started this journey, I only had an idea stuck in my head. You’ve given that idea life and it looks so good.
I thank my formatting team, Cover Me Darling and Athena Interior.
Mom and Dad… thank you for your continued support.
SF Benson, a Michigan native, resides in Georgia with her husband, a human daughter, and a couple of miniature fur kids (two female short-haired guinea pigs). At one time she wrangled a household which included three Samoyeds, saltwater fish, a hamster, and three guinea pigs. She’s an avid bookworm who appreciates a well-written book regardless of genre. SF prefers writing stories about strong, diverse protagonists set in dystopian, science fiction, or paranormal worlds.
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