Intrepid
Page 30
I tried to be understanding. Patient. He didn’t yet know the Vagabond language— the clues we dropped or the signals that gave people easy outs. Life on the Tracks was cruel enough, so we avoided being blunt when possible. We danced around awkward moments by laying the right clues, but there were certain people dynamics to learn before being able to pick up on their cues. Sometimes, camping with others happened out of convenience, or we’d go the same direction with someone we’d crossed paths with for a little while. Sooner or later, it always happened. The time would come when separate ways was optimal and the vibes were subtly lain. I never thought it’d be that way with Xavi, and I forced the awkward conversation. For reasons beyond me, I couldn’t let him off the hook that easily.
This boy, though, he just didn’t know better. I tried to tell myself that as he grew bigger in my perspective. The lighting painted different features on the boy’s shape as he approached. Smooth skin the color of soft chocolate. Grey-green eyes, like marbled counter-tops. The hair that had reminded me of Brillo-pads in the shadows softened in the sun, and they were perfectly curly rather than haphazard.
“Hi.” He grinned.
I didn’t answer and turned into the forest. Despite the sun, the temperature didn’t rise much. The sweat and river water that kneaded into my skin under my armpits and bra chilled me now that I’d stopped running. All the heat of adrenaline still did not make up for the temperature dipping down below comfortable. This drop irked me, seeing as morning usually meant the sun would burn off the freeze, but the fact that it was getting colder meant more ominous weather news as I entered the shade of the trees.
It felt counterintuitive, but we hiked a mile in, back in the direction we came on the tracks. Exhaustion tugged at me, and I tripped a few times. I felt my alertness slipping away, and I knew I needed to stop. Besides, it’d take too long to find my way out of the forest if I mislaid a marker.
Xavi always called this the “Hansel and Gretel.” It was a forgotten tale his mother had told him, and he morphed his voice as he mapped out a story about two kids, an evil step-mother, and a witch who wanted to eat them. They’d tried to lay a trail of breadcrumbs to get back home, but birds ate them. Our markers were supposed to be subtler, but stronger than bread: a broken branch up high (or as high as I could reach), a scraped off part on a tree so that the flesh was wet and white, or a kicked up root. Anything that looked like wind, weather, or animals did it better served the purpose of a hidden trail. It was only necessary when we needed to retrace steps, and I very much wanted to find my way back to the tracks later.
In the twenty minutes it took to walk, there was a rumble in the sky. I swore at our luck, but that was the way of the north. Within the blink of an eye, storm clouds became contiguous with open sky. It’s why the world took on so many shades of summer-green— the sky was constantly crying.
“Storms make their own train sounds,” the boy commented. “They sound pretty beautiful if you think on it.” His voice was a reminder that he was still with me— a fact I’d been trying to block out during the hike.
“You won’t think so when the rain comes.” I yanked off my pack and unhooked the tent from the bottom of it. It was Xavi’s tent. He felt guilty enough about leaving that he made me take it. Besides, Legs had her own they could share.
The tent was green in ways the forest could never be and small in ways I never understood fit Xavi’s big body. I hadn’t slept in it alone yet. He had always been with me when we had to use it, and when the weather was nice, we’d opt out of the trouble. It was always easier to run if we didn’t need to deconstruct camp, but, in the rain, the tent saved a whole lot of drama.
“One-one-thousand. Two-one-thousand. Three-one-thousand.”
“You realize that’s a stupid way to time me,” I growled.
“Nope. Stop concentrating on me and concentrate on the task at hand,” Xavi retorted.
I shook out the ground-tarp and fanned it out over the ground. “Then count in your head. It’s annoying.”
“Your face is annoying.”
“Your big-toe is annoying.” The insults fired back and forth as I unrolled the tent over the tarp. I grabbed the pile of metallic poles and began piecing them together so that short grew into long. They criss-crossed over the tent as I popped them into each hole on each corner. “It’s not going to work like that!” Xavi hooted.
“Watch me.” I knew he hated being inefficient, but I knew the heart of every success only happened from experimentation. He always focused on one cross-section of the pole first, making sure one catty-corner was secured before concentrating on the other. I wanted to see what would happen if I focused on one side of the tent first, then one catty-corner. I had a theory it’d shave off a few seconds. It did. The cross-section was up in the air quicker than quick, and I clipped the tent’s fabric into it. The only thing left was the rainfly.
“Done! Booo-yah!” I shouted into the air.
“Now. Deconstruct.”
“What?”
“That had to have taken longer than a minute and a half. I wouldn’t know. Someone stopped me from counting.”
“Xavi!”
I unzipped the door and climbed in. The leech followed suit. “Hey! Out.” I tried to keep my voice firm, but it cracked in indignation.
He frowned. “Come on! It’s going to rain. You’re really going to make me wait out the storm outside?”
“Yes.”
Shadows shifted across his face. The calculating look that flickered in his eyes made me realize he could always just push me out and take the tent for himself. He was bigger than me and stronger than me. It made me realize that none of my supplies were safe. He had none— not even a water-bladder. His voice was scratchy from thirst, meaning he’d had no water when I’d had a few water breaks already. I wondered if he’d do anything to survive? After all, he’d blown up an entire train.
A fear I had not felt in a long time— not since that first night when my whole world readjusted so that my old life could no longer include me in it— came up into my throat. My heartbeat skidded, accelerated, sputtered, and accelerated again. Danger.
“I won’t hurt you,” the boy promised, as if he could read my mind. “You’ve done so much already, but if you could just help me a little bit more.” He clambered into the tent before I could agree, so I gave up protesting. It was his dehydrated voice that made me feel bad. Sometimes kindness did more good than harm when stuck in a situation, so I put my pack between us. The hose to the water-bladder rested along one of the straps, and I picked it up.
“You put it in your mouth, like this, and bite down on it. When you suck, the water will come out.” I pushed the pack closer to him. “Small sips. Conserve it. Swish the water in your mouth before you swallow. It’ll help with the dry mouth.” I don’t know why I did it. I guess it was that I’d been thirsty many times over, and no one deserves that achy feeling. Whether or not he planned on harming me, maybe he wouldn’t if I helped.
He followed my directions, and I watched him drink. It drove me crazy not to know if I should be afraid of him, and I wished there was some beacon attached to everyone that warned of danger.
I’d been running for who knew how long. The Militia was combing the woods for me, but I still managed to escape. I didn’t know how I’d done it. I was just a kid, after all. A fifteen-year-old shouldn’t have been able to escape what felt like an entire army.
I didn’t even have the right shoes on. Thin flats. All the girls at school were wearing them, but now, I cursed ever trying to keep up with fashion trends. It wasn’t like anything ever looked good on me anyways. My jeans were equally lacking warmth, and I had no way to pull back my hair. It fell in my face in waves of brown-red.
I’d finally found a way to make myself stop running. The decision went back and forth in my head until logic won out. Every part, in and out of my body, burned by the time I realized if they found me, they found me, and at least it’d all be over. Even if they didn’
t find me, I’d still probably die. Either way, I was in trouble. So I let the tears come. They needed to escape because they were breaking my heart in half, speeding it up even faster than light. I crumpled in on the tears, and they crumpled in on me.
“You okay?” It was the first time I ever heard Xavi’s voice. It was tender and harsh at the same time. Eventually, I’d learn that Xavi was full of contradictions in everything he did.
“Oh. I’m fantastic. Just. Fantastic. Do I look okay?” It was a response neither of us expected. I guess I was just glad he wasn’t a soldier, and sarcasm replaced relief.
“You look just peachy. Everyone needs a good cry every now and then. I hear it’s good for your skin.” He laughed. Even his laugh held sadness— a sadness that may have even trumped mine. He neared me like a trapped animal, slow and cautious. “You look cold.” He shrugged off his jacket. Under it, he wore one of those thermal vests— the puffy kind stuffed with synth-e-down. It looked worn and dirty— the way the jacket smelled as he draped it over me, but I was instantaneously warmer and the smell no longer mattered. “I’m Xavi.” The way he said it sounded like laughter. The HA sound collapsed into the V sound. It rose and fell in my ears, and I wondered what his name would feel like in my mouth when I had to say it out loud for the first time. It was such a strange name.
“Nikomedes.”
“Ah. From 18?” He asked like he didn’t know. Of course I was from the 18th Colony. I thought about being sarcastic again, but instead I nodded. “Interesting,” he said in a way that told me the story wasn’t interesting at all. “You’re a long way from the 18th, huh? I can help you find your way back if you like?” Everything he said was like a question, like he realized he could do nothing but put himself in danger if he tried to help.
“I can’t go back. They’re all dead,” I whispered. Saying it out loud made it real. It took everything out of the realm of bad dreams and vivid imaginations.
“Oh?” Xavi breathed.
Available on Amazon
http://www.amazon.com/Vagabond-J-D-Brewer-ebook/dp/B00K6ZTZDM/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1417652812&sr=8-1&keywords=j.d.+brewer+vagabond
Intrepid’s Officially Unofficial Soundtrack
I know I’m not the only author who feels that music plays a vital role in their writing. Music has always inspired. It’s the muse that often got my fingers tap-dancing against the keyboard. Although these artists in no official capacity endorse my novel, I would like to thank them for giving me the energy to write Intrepid.
Please support these artists by purchasing their music to create your very own Intrepid Soundtrack Playlist as you read.
Prologue— An Atlas to Follow: Wild Sweet Orange
Texi
Ch. 1— Pure Imagination: Fiona Apple
Ch. 2— Smile: Mikky Ekko
Ch. 3— Gently: You + Me
Ch. 4— Sedated: Mikky Ekko
Ch. 5— Wait— Get Set Go
Liam
Ch. 6— Location: Freelance Whales
Ch. 7— Danse Caribe: Andrew Bird
Ch. 8— Girl’s Not Grey: A.F.I.
Texi
Ch. 9— I Hear the Bells: Mike Dougherty
Ch. 10— Happy: Nelson Nathaniel, Jr.
Ch. 11— Summer: Hayden Calnin
Liam
Ch. 12— Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay: Ottis Redding
Ch. 13— Blue Lips: Regina Spektor
Texi
Ch. 14— No Good: Future Us
Ch. 15— Dark Blue: Jack’s Mannequin
Ch. 16— The Nothing: Freelance Whales
Ch. 17— Extraordinary Machine- Fiona Apple
Liam
Ch. 18— Clutter: Ronald Jenkees
Ch. 19— Hear You Me: Jimmy Eat World
Texi
Ch. 20— Grow: Fauntella Crow
Ch. 21— Let it Be: The Beatles
Ch. 22— La Grange: ZZ Top
Liam
Ch. 23— Mourning Doves: Mikky Ekko
Texi
Ch. 24— Across the Universe: The Beatles (and Fiona Apple)
Ch. 25— Suddenly Everything has Changed: The Postal Service
Liam
Ch. 26— I’m Not Your Hero: Tegan and Sara
Ch. 27— For the Widows in Paradise, For the Fathers in Ypsilanti: Sufjan Stevens
Ch. 28— Time and Space (A Refutation Of): Digable Planets
Ch. 29— Sway: The Perishers
Texi
Ch. 30— Death of Seasons: A.F.I.
Ch. 31— First Breath After Coma: Explosions in the Sky
Ch. 32— Kids: Mikky Ekko
Ch. 33— Get it Faster: Jimmy Eat World
Liam
Ch. 34— Left Hand Free: Alt J
Ch. 35— The Struggle: Grizfolk
Ch. 36— Wearing Thin: Minipop
Texi
Ch. 37— Lost in my Mind: The Head and the Heart
Ch. 38— Aeolus: Freelance Whales
Ch. 39— My Father’s Father: The Civil Wars
Liam
Ch. 40— For my Help: Hayden Calnin
Ch. 41— The Scientist: Cold Play
Texi
Ch. 42— Your Ex-Lover is Dead: Stars
Ch. 43— Bad Moon Rising— Mourning Ritual
Emory
Epilogue— Sad Sad City: Ghostland Observatory
With Sincere Gratitude
To the Readers
Thank you for giving Intrepid a chance. My stories would just be words on a page without your imaginations to bring them to life. I am so thrilled that you spent time with my characters and their adventures. If you enjoyed Intrepid, please spread the word.
Of Science and Philosophy
Science and philosophy have given me a platform with which to create worlds. I’ve fictionalized scientific possibility, technology, and philosophical history to fit the needs of my plot line. I encourage all of you to research the concepts I’ve put in here and dig out the nuggets of truth within them. Then, I encourage you to find inspiration to create: whether it’s your own story or the technology I’ve dreamed of. The genre of Science Fiction is all about inspiration, and I hope that Intrepid has done this for you.
Leave Reviews and Follow me Online:
When you have a moment, don’t forget to check out Vagabond (available on Amazon) as well as leave an Amazon and Goodreads review! Be sure to follow me online for updates on upcoming projects and stories. Feel free to contact me if you have suggestions on how to improve my craft. I love feedback because I want to continue creating stories you enjoy.
Online Info:
www.jdbrewerbooks.com
Twitter: @JDBrewerBooks
www.twitter.com/jdbrewerbooks
www.facebook.com/jdbrewerbooks
www.goodreads.com/jdbrewerbooks
To Taylor Heard
You’ve spent months living with a zombie. You’ve come home from work only to find me here, but not here. You’ve waited until I finished a thought before kissing me on the forehead and telling me about your day. You’ve taught me how to shoot guns and the difference between magazines and clips. And you’ve made me eat whenever I forgot to because I was glued to the computer.
You are the most patient man I’ve ever met, and I’m so lucky that you accept me for all my quirky ways. You are a true partner in crime, and I cannot wait to marry you. I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again. I would not be able to pursue my dreams if it weren’t for your unwavering support and belief in me. I love you.
To Jackie and Artax
These are the forever puppies who helped me write Intrepid. They’ve snuggled with me when I needed comfort, romped when I needed laughter, and have snuck in edits when I wasn’t looking. They are the best dogs a girl could ever ask for.
To my Friends and Family
Thank you for being patient and supportive through this entire process. I know that I’m not always present when I’m in the drafting and editing stage, but I am thankful that you don’t take off
ense when I miss a bar-b-q or a night out. I wouldn’t be who I am or where I am without the love and support of each and every one of you.
To Laura Beasley Ottensman
Your artwork is stunning, and I still can’t believe you agreed to paint the book covers for the Intrepid series! You seriously went above and beyond anything I could have imagined. You’ve given me such a gift, and I will never be able to thank you enough for your time and talent. You truly are a sister to me, and I love you terribly much!
To Matthew Stensland-Bos
You’ve done an amazing job proofreading Intrepid and Vagabond. You have an eye for the nitty-gritty, and you’ve taught me so much about my own strange writing habits. I’ll seriously never be able to look at an em dash the same after what we’ve gone through.
Seriously. I am so lucky to have stumbled upon you in this world.
I encourage anyone who needs an editor to visit Mathew at:
www.wordswithmatthew.com
This man does a variety of different editing and writing services, and he’s amazing!