New World Ashes

by Jennifer Wilson

  For one second the world stopped.

  A shadow broke away from the rest of the darkness. There was a glint of gunmetal in its hand. I lunged and collided with the attacker. Our bodies rolled in a jumble of punching limbs and flashing weapons. The assailant’s hand never left the gun, wielding it like a club. It wasn’t until we stopped that I saw why.

  We rolled out of the shadows and into the eerie light of the hindered moon. There was a mask covering my attacker’s face, but it was plain to see she was female and only had one hand. We froze, panting for breath. I sat over her lean body, pinning her to the ground, my knife at her throat, the barrel of her gun pressed to my chest.

  Then she spoke. “Phoenix?”

  Without removing my knife, I yanked the mask over her head. Curly dark hair spilled out of the mask, surrounding a face I never thought I would see again.

  “Archer—” I gaped at her. Our weapons fell wayward as I helped her to her feet. She beamed at me like a long-lost sister. Before I could react she threw her arm around me in a tight embrace. To my own surprise, I hugged her back.

  “We thought you were dead.” She said pulling away.

  “We thought the same about you.” I flashed back to watching her fight Ravagers in a blood-soaked alley as Maddox dragged me away.

  “If you two are done trying to kill each other, we have more important matters at hand.” Triven said. He strolled casually across the roof holding Mouse’s hand.

  Archer pushed passed me with a small cry and embraced her friend. Tears welled in her eyes as she hugged Triven. Then quick as a whip, she pulled back and slapped him across the face. Triven looked stunned.

  “That is for making me mourn you.” She said pointedly. Before he could find words, Archer turned and swung Mouse up onto her back. The little girl clung to her in delight.

  A lanky young man with dark hair and chocolate eyes walked up behind Triven. A gun hung loosely across his back. I recognized him at once. He was one of the Subversive’s best gunmen.

  “Baxter.” I nodded to him.

  “Damn, if you three aren’t a sight for sore eyes.” His returning smile was dazzling as he slapped Triven on the back. There was a mischievous glint in his eye. “I would like to point out that Triven and I didn’t need to roll around throwing punches like two lunatics in order to recognize our friends.”

  Archer punched him in the shoulder, hard, but he just laughed. An echoing rumble of laughter rolled through the group. Archer was the first to sober up.

  “The others?” She asked without any real hope.

  Triven placed a hand on her shoulder as I shook my head. Closing her eyes, she nodded. She had been expecting that answer.

  “And you? The Subversive?” Triven asked, his voice tense.

  Our friends exchanged glances. With great care, Archer slid Mouse off her back and pushed her toward Triven. In a terrifyingly compassionate gesture, she pressed her hand to his shoulder in comfort. “There were some attacks. Arstid is still alive, but we have suffered many loses since you left. There is something—”

  Archer’s next words were lost in an explosion of fire and glass.

  Triven curled protectively around Mouse, as the rest of us turned, guns ready, toward the blast. The air around us vibrated as the second story windows of a building a block down from us blew out. Loose gravel skittered by our feet as the building we stood on quivered beneath us. Shards of glass twinkled to the streets below like falling constellations as an undulating cloud of flames exploded from the windows before imploding and sucking back inside. Brilliant fire leapt inside the now shattered windows illuminating the surrounding buildings.

  “Adroits.” I muttered watching the flames consume the building.

  Eyes wide, Archer lowered her gun. “We should get moving.”

  “I think that’s a fine idea.” Baxter pulled his rifle into his hands and began checking the weapon.

  “There is a safe house not far from here if we need to hold up for a while,” I said. Triven and I exchanged a glance. “But we must get back to the Subversive—as soon as possible. There is a lot you need to know and time is short.”

  The same lingering unease still hung in the air between Baxter and Archer.

  “And apparently you have a lot to tell us as well.” Triven’s shrewd eyes watched his friends. I could see the leader in him reemerging in the presence of his people. I had not been the only one lost in The Sanctuary.

  Baxter inclined his head, encouraging Archer.

  “The Subversive has been compromised. We believe there is a traitor in our mix. It’s not safe anymore.” Archer warned. Her keen eyes swept the rooftops around us. “But this is not the place to speak openly.”

  “I agree.” Triven’s voice was flat with strain. This was not the welcome home we had been expecting. Honestly, I’m not sure what we had been expecting.

  Archer sidled up to me as we checked our weapons in preparation to move out. “Why do I get the feeling you’re going to try and get us all killed again?”

  Lying would have been a kindness, but she deserved the truth.

  “We’re bringing a war to your doorstep.”

  She looked past me to the burning building. A humorless laugh broke from her lips. “Phoenix, it’s already here.”

  I could see the raging fire reflecting in her dark eyes. A stray piece of ash floated onto my forearm.

  “So it is.”

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  AS WITH MY first book, I must start with thanks to the people who make bearing my soul worth it. You, my readers. So many wonderful and compelling stories are never heard, but now — in this day and age — Indie Authors are finally getting a voice. And that is because of fan support. Without your overwhelmingly loving posts, blogs and social media support, Phoenix would never have a story to tell. So, I thank you.

  Writing is so much more than putting words on a page. It is putting a little bit of yourself into every syllable written, every emotion expressed and every character’s innate flaws — I am every bit a part of this story as it is a part of me. So thank you for letting me share a piece of myself with you. As before, I ask one more favor of you. While passion consumes me to write, I am still human and thus make mistakes. If you find errors in my book, please contact me so I can correct them. No one is perfect.

  To the book bloggers who support my books, I am eternally indebted to you. Every post you put on your blogs, every video on your YouTube channels and every image on your Instagram accounts were life-altering for me. The web so often jostles and pushes us Indie Authors to the side, and you made my words heard. You inspire people to read, you speak your mind and you bravely put yourself out there for the world to see. You are the trendsetters, the voices of a new generation and soul mates to every author striving to be heard. Thank you for your amazing amount of support, honesty and energy. I am inspired by you.

  I cannot express enough gratitude to my Oftomes family. I am overwhelmed with joy to have such a supportive and talented group of authors/people in my life. You are all amazing and inspire me every day. It is an honor to be published along side each of you. Xina, you are a champion with the eyes of an eagle! Thank you for catching everything my tired eyes couldn’t see and helping to bring this book one step closer to perfection. And Ben! What can I say? Thank you, not for just taking me under your wing, but for also flying me higher than I could have ever done on my own. Your enthusiasm, support and charisma are unending. Thank you for helping to bring the New World out of the shadows and into the hearts of readers.

  To my confidants, editors and beta-readers: Diane Schultz, Auston Wilson, Cameron Walker, Kimberly Karli, Cerri Norris, Amie Bergeson and Annette Meyerkord. What can I say that could truly express my gratitude? You have taken this long road with Phoenix and me, and your support and time is utterly invaluable. You may get to read the books first, but you also have to trudge through the edits and storyline changes that would make most people crazy. Thank you for your time, energy, hon
esty, opinions and support. Pieces of each of you have been woven into these books as well. You are forever immortalized within the pages and always cherished in my heart.

  Nana, thank you for being a strong woman beyond your years and teaching me to speak my mind. I do so frequently. Papa, thank you for your creative genes, I knew it wasn’t just your blue eyes I got. Mum and Granddad, thank you for exposing me to the arts and always encouraging me to read. Both helped mold the person I am today.

  Mom and Dad, there are so many things to thank you both for. Mom, the endless late-night Face Time sessions editing, talking plot, and rewording sentences were never-ending, but you never complained. I couldn’t have done this without you. Really. Dad, thank you for letting me steal your wife for hours on end and then always managing to sweep in at the right moment with the perfect word. For a man who claims not to love syntax so much, you have quite the arsenal of words hidden in that mind of yours. I love you both to no end.

  Auston, there are not enough words in the world to express what you mean to me. What your support means to me. I couldn’t have done any of this without you. I could tell you that everyday and it still wouldn’t be said enough. You believe in me when I have a hard time believing in myself. You have let me be selfish and come to bed late, and you do so without ever complaining. You are an amazing man and I count my blessings for you every day. You’re brave, kind, generous, and loving. You amaze me.