Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Epilogue
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About the Author
Divided
by
Taitrina Falcon
Book One of
Divided Destiny
Divided by Taitrina Falcon © 2016
The moral right of Taitrina Falcon to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act, 1998.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy or any information storage and retrieval system without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments or locales is entirely coincidental.
Published by Taicon Publishing
PO Box 206, Dereham NR19 9ED
United Kingdom
www.taitrinafalcon.com
[email protected]
Cover by Rebecca Frank
Editing by Thomas Shutt at Main Line Editing
ISBN 978-1-911154-01-3
Dedicated to my Mother.
You are my strength.
Thanks for always believing in me.
Chapter One
New York was the city that never slept, and they certainly didn’t seem to rest. Staff Sergeant Leon ‘Leo’ Frasier was currently enjoying a rare vacation. His unit had been deployed overseas fighting insurgents in the Middle East for months. They had landed state-side last month; after the debriefing, they were allowed leave to visit family or otherwise do as they wished.
Leo was planning on visiting his parents down in Florida, just not yet. He wanted to enjoy his freedom first. He’d decided on this trip when he’d realized he’d seen more places outside of his country than inside. He lived for his job, but he was twenty-seven, and his days on the frontline as special forces wouldn’t last forever.
He had found a small hole in the wall diner for cake and coffee while he people-watched. There was an endless stream of people bustling past the window, hurrying in both directions, their eyes firmly on their destination and not the world around them. His hazel eyes drank in the motion, relishing the rare peace of just being able to sit still. There was nowhere he needed to be, nothing he needed to do today.
Leo had a booth to himself, which allowed him to stretch out his long, six-foot-four frame. He was lanky and lean, his strength deceptive, as he didn’t have the bulging muscles a lot of his comrades sported.
Suddenly, the peace was broken. There was a thunderous crash, similar to what a storm would bring, but the noise seemed to be everywhere equally, not just rumbling in the distance. Leo tensed, immediately alert, mentally shifting from the tourist back to the marine he would always be. Every sense he had was screaming that this wasn’t natural, that something was about to happen.
He was right.
The constant flow of people paused as everyone stopped walking and instead waited for the noise to stop. Everyone was doing the same, looking at the person next to them with a questioning look and an answering shrug. No one knew what was happening. The loud, rolling thunder stopped, having succeeded in capturing everyone’s attention.
Then, a booming voice echoed from the heavens. Instinctively, Leo looked up, but he couldn’t see much through the window. Quickly, he reached into his pocket and threw some dollar bills on the table. Grim-faced, he dashed out of the diner. His view was still obstructed due to all the tall buildings, but he should be able to see something. However, there was nothing; the sky was clear.
“People of Earth, rejoice, for you have been chosen. From this day forth, you will serve us, for we are your gods. Bow down in worship or die!” the booming voice declared.
Silence fell. Leo wanted to shrug off what had just happened as a prank—it was too weird, too melodramatic. However, he couldn’t quite shake the icy feeling of dread. That level of sound…it hadn’t been a guy in a helicopter with a megaphone. It was a whole level beyond anything he’d encountered before.
The show was over. Around him, the silence was brought to a swift end as the crowd started murmuring, chatting to the strangers next to them, a rare display of spirit for the notoriously anti-social New Yorkers.
“Somebody’s been watching a few too many movies,” the young man next to Leo joked.
Leo nodded briefly and forced a faint smile; a few others around him laughed. Judging by some of the worried expressions around him, he wasn’t the only one who was still concerned. However, people didn’t want to be scared, and the admiration for a clever gimmick was spreading. A theory that it was promotion for a new film was catching on, but Leo didn’t agree. His gut said there was more to this.
He began to shove his way through the crowd, his eyes scanning the area. There was a bar at the end of the block; hopefully that would have a television that he could tune to the news. He wanted to know how large an area that message had covered and where the hell it had come from. Leo pulled his cellphone out of his pocket, but it wasn’t time to call headquarters yet. First he needed to get confirmation that it was something more than a Hollywood stunt.
The bar was a dive, but it had a television for sports. Leo strode up to the bar and pointed at the screen. “Put the news on,” he demanded.
The barman just stared at him; he couldn’t have been more than a kid, barely of legal age to drink himself. Leo sighed. Perhaps he had overdone the intimidation. He was, after all, a large marine intent on his goal. “Please?” Leo added, trying to soften his countenance.
“Sure,” the barman agreed after a moment. He reached for the remote, changed the channel, and increased the volume.
Leo’s heart sank, and his blood ran cold, as the last fleeting hope he’d had that this wasn’t going to be a problem disappeared. The news station was showing a feed of a huge floating object, one that wasn’t too far from the imaginings of Hollywood in terms of what a spaceship might look like. It was hovering above Washington, D.C.
In this day and age, fighter jets were always scrambled near the capital, so it was no surprise that a squadron soon burst onto the feed, firing missiles. The missiles flew towards the ship. In a flash of light, they impacted and exploded before they reached the ship, hitting instead what could only be described as an honest-to-God energy shield. In response, beams of light started firing from somewhere on the ship; Leo couldn’t see anything resembling what he would think of as a gun turret. The fighter jets tried to evade, but they couldn’t move faster than the speed of light. All the planes were destroyed.
“My god,” the barman muttered, eyes wide as he stared at the news screen. “What the hell is that thing?”
“I don’t know,” Leo replied quietly.
He scrolled through his phone contacts, hitting the number for the base command. They
were going to call everyone in for this, and he needed to know what they wanted him to do. He was in New York, on the other side of the country from Camp Pendleton, where his unit was based. The chaos was going to be huge; traveling that far was going to be next to impossible. The government would likely ground all civilian flights. That would force everyone onto the roads, gridlock would ensue, and no one would get anywhere.
The phone rang, but at least it had connected. Leo could see everyone in the bar had reached for their phones after catching sight of the television. It wouldn’t be long before the phone networks were completely overloaded as everyone tried to get hold of their loved ones. Several bar patrons had already abandoned their stools, pushing past him for the door. They wanted to get home, to their families. It was a primal instinct to make sure they were safe.
“This is Staff Sergeant Frasier,” Leo said calmly as soon as someone picked up his call. He reeled off his authentication code and social security number, which doubled as his service number. “I’m currently in New York. What do you want me to do?”
“Stand by,” was the cool response.
Leo shifted nervously. He felt sick. He was in the wrong place; he needed to be with his squad, with his unit on the frontline. Intellectually, he knew he was as entitled to vacation time as anyone else, but right now he wanted nothing more than to be on base. He wanted to be surrounded by professionals, people who were calm even in the face of absolute chaos. It was going to be a mad scramble, and he was out of position.
“Staff Sergeant, head for McGuire, the joint base down in Jersey. It’s a straight shot down I-95, about ninety minutes’ trip if you can beat the rush.”
“Yes sir, on my way.” Leo hung up the phone and shoved it back into his jeans pocket.
He left the bar and started to scan the street again. His first problem with getting to McGuire was that he didn’t have a car. Only an idiot drove in New York if it wasn’t necessary, so he hadn’t bothered to hire one at the airport. Instead, he had taken a taxi and then hopped on the subway to get around the city.
Leo frowned, considering his options, which really were down to just one. He didn’t have time to hire a car; he would never beat the panicked masses fleeing the city that way. He also didn’t know anyone in New York; there was no one he could borrow a car from, which meant he had to steal one.
It was rather ironic, in a way, that he had learned how to hotwire a car as a marine. It was something taught as part of the survival skillset for special forces. The problem was that the street was packed, and he really didn’t want to waste time on a confrontation. There was no possibility of discreetly commandeering a vehicle here. Shaking his head, Leo stepped into the street and broke into a jog. It was easier to avoid cars than weave through a sidewalk full of pedestrians.
He might not have been in the heart of downtown—he had avoided the expensive tourist traps—but this was still not a residential district. It was evening, but that just meant more people were on the streets. The working day had finished, but rush hour was not yet over. Driving out of the city was going to be hard enough given the daily gridlock; he really needed to hurry before panic set in as everyone realized that the voiceover was not a Hollywood stunt. At the moment, most people hadn’t seen the news, but fear was contagious and would spread fast.
The lump in his throat grew and his hand itched. He wanted to reach for his cellphone and call his mom and dad. If he had chosen to order his vacation differently, then he would have been there with them. He hadn’t seen them in over a year due to his overseas tour. Over a year since his mother had had to reach onto tip-toes to hug him. Over a year since he’d shared a beer with his father and bickered over their differing favored football teams.
Finally, the crowds started to thin and possibilities presented themselves. Leo slowed to a fast walk; he needed a fast car, but one that looked to be in good working order. It also couldn’t be too new, as he needed one without the newer security measures designed to prevent exactly what he wanted to do. He wouldn’t know until he started it how much gas it had, but hopefully he’d hit upon one with a reasonably full tank with his first attempt.
The five-year-old sedan halfway down the left side of the street looked like the best option. Barely breaking stride, Leo leaned down and scooped up a rock. He paused outside the passenger door and looked around before he smashed the rock against the window. It shattered, glass falling all over the seat. He reached in and unlocked the car, then jogged around to the driver’s side.
Leo jumped into the driver’s seat and reached under the dash. He’d always found this tricky, especially as he was so tall. It was hard to see what he was doing. However, a moment later, the car rumbled to life and Leo smiled in relief. Fortune was smiling on him with a full gas tank.
With a screech of tires, he pulled away. Step one was now complete: he had a car. Step two was to get the hell out of the city. Easier said than done, given he wasn’t exactly familiar with New York and was reliant on signs. However, he was on his way, and the movement was soothing. It eased the frustration that had rapidly built during his search for a vehicle. Soon he would be back on a military base where he belonged. Then he could take some real action.
Leo turned the radio on. It hissed nothing but static.
“Oh come on.” Leo swore and hit the steering wheel. He switched the radio back off; he must have damaged the connection when he hotwired the car. Keeping one hand on the wheel, he pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and hit speed dial.
“Young,” Sergeant Donald ‘Don’ Young answered, his voice tight with worry.
“You’ve seen the news, then,” Leo commented, ignoring the chorus of blaring horns as he weaved in and out of cars, overtaking on both sides and cutting ahead through traffic by more than one driver at a time.
“Kinda hard to miss with that booming announcement,” Don said darkly. “Just give me a minute.”
*****
Don put Leo on hold and turned back to his mother. Unlike his best friend, he had gone straight home after they had been granted leave.
“Mom, I have to go,” Don told her.
She nodded understandingly, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. “I know. Just promise me you will be careful.”
“Always,” Don promised.
He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. He took in a deep breath, memorizing the slight trace of her floral aroma that was hidden beneath the scent of baked goods. His mother was always cooking, the house overflowing with wondrous smells of fresh food. It was like nirvana after being overseas, existing off MRE ration packs.
After a long moment, he stepped back. His mother turned and bustled into the kitchen. She never did want him to see her cry when he left. Don shifted and looked into the living room, where his brother was huddled on the couch, watching the sinister hovering ship on the news. He was a high school senior, but he looked so much younger, more vulnerable, at that moment. Don wanted to stay. He wanted to bar the door and take care of them both.
“Hey, you watch yourself. Take care of Mom, and I’ll be back. Alright, little brother?” Don told him with false cheer. It was the same thing he said every time he left, pretending like this was just any other day.
“I will.” His brother nodded, but the usual eye-rolling and false bravado was missing.
He had to leave now or he never would. With quick strides, Don stepped out the front door. After sparing one last glance, he pulled the door closed. As he headed down the sidewalk towards his parked car, he couldn’t stop himself from looking back. He could still see his mother and his younger brother through the window. They were both glued to the television; he supposed they were waiting to see if the world was going to end.
He raised the phone to his ear again.
*****
“Hey, buddy, sorry,” Don said, clearing his throat from the clogged emotion.
“Don’t worry about it,” Leo muttered. He could hear Don get in his own car, and he gave him
a few moments to get himself together. “Do you have your orders?”
“Report to Pendleton. At least some of us are still in the right state,” Don teased halfheartedly. “Where are you heading?”
“McGuire.” Leo heaved a sigh of relief as the exit for the interstate appeared up ahead. He had paid no regard to the speed limit, and thankfully it seemed the cops had better things to do than stop him. He had made the city limits in good time despite it being the tail end of rush hour.
“We’ll probably be shipped out there anyway, if that ship stays on the East Coast,” Don pointed out.
“Then I will hopefully see you soon.” Leo hung up, not bothering with the normal pleasantries.
There was nothing more to be said, and he had another call to make. Leo hit another number on speed dial, but this time there was no ringing sound; the call just failed. He swore and tried again, but still it didn’t connect. The phone network had become overwhelmed. He had known it would happen, but he had still hoped he had time for one more call.
He had needed to call Don, needed to see what was happening with the rest of his squad. They fought as a team, and he was their leader. However, he needed to call his parents, too, just like the rest of the world, hence why he couldn’t get through. Leo swore again and pushed his phone back into his pocket, resisting the urge to keep re-dialing over and over.
He was a marine, and he knew better than that. They really should keep the lines as clear as possible for emergency services. He would try again later; perhaps he would have better luck with a landline. Both his parents had been in the military, and that provided some reassurance. They could take care of themselves. They would be okay.
The world was going to be chaotic and hysterical. An alien mothership? It was science fiction; it was a movie plot. It wasn’t real life. However, this was real life, and as bizarre as it was, that mothership was gut-wrenchingly real. Leo had always believed that there was intelligent life out there somewhere. It was the height of arrogance to believe otherwise. The universe was infinite, there had always been a high probability this would happen one day.
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