INFILTRATION
Infiltration Series (Book 1)
SUSANNA ROGERS
Bucher & Reid
About INFILTRATION
2120: A world ravaged by a devastating virus. Those healthy enough to live in New Nation lead a sanitized, orderly life where everything is tightly guarded by a brutal government. Lives, thoughts, information and emotions are all strictly controlled.
Now: Seventeen-year-old elite soldier Nicola Gray is sent back in time for an important assignment. She alone will stop the virus before it takes over the world – her mission, to gather intelligence, find the cause and stop the threat, whatever it takes.
She is trained to kill.
But the past is not what Nicola is expecting. Overwhelmed by an alien world, she discovers feelings she can’t handle and a world with immense personal freedom and people who care for each other. She wants to stay. She wants to live. She wants a lot of things she can't have...
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Copyright © Susanna Rogers 2017
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All rights reserved. This publication (or any part of it) may not be reproduced or transmitted, copies, stored, distributed or otherwise made available by any person or entity, in any form (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical) or by any means (photocopying, recording, scanning or otherwise) without prior written permission from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Bucher & Reid
Cover by Amygdala Book Design
978-0-6481868-0-9
Dedicated to my buddy, James
because you’re the best
Table of Contents
Opening
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
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Acknowledgements
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INFILTRATION
It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. I was lying on something soft but prickly, something that felt a lot like grass. Smelled like grass too. Propping my head up, I looked around and saw trees, garden beds, a bench and a small playground. This was all wrong. I wasn’t in bed…and I was naked.
The sun was low, the air crisp, almost as if it was an ordinary morning. I’d been told that between the distance and the time, the trip would take it out of me and it had, but I couldn’t let that hold me back.
Sucking in deep breaths, I surveyed my surroundings and took stock of the situation. The distinct lack of clothing was a problem and I still had to work out where I was and make my way to my new home, hopefully not too many obstacles.
Then I noticed a newspaper on the bench. An actual newspaper. I stumbled to my feet, my eyes riveted to the paper as I walked across and picked it up. I’d made it!
Things were going my way after all. The park looked familiar now that I’d had a chance to get my bearings. Having already checked out the general area using satellite footage, I was reasonably sure this place wasn’t far from my new home.
And sheets of newspaper could double as clothing or provide some sort of coverage or I’d be spotted in an instant. I screwed up a sheet in each hand, trying to cover the front of my body as best I could. It was better than nothing. Or maybe not.
A high-pitched yelp cut through the air. Made me jump. I’d let my guard down. Then I saw him approaching, coming closer, scampering toward me. Sure, he looked like a white terrier puppy chasing a ball onto the grass but he might actually be an enemy scout. At the very least, he had an owner who might see me and that was bad, very bad.
I had to get out of there, and quick, so I dropped the newspaper and ran to hide in some bushes. Strange organic smells wafted to my nostrils, like those of mulch and greenery, or perhaps that wasn’t so strange given my location. Meanwhile the puppy picked up the tennis ball in his mouth and raced toward me, dropping the ball at my feet. He barked again.
“Ssshhh, little fella,” I whispered, ruffling his silky fur. I picked up the ball and threw it across the front of the park so it landed further down the road, then hid back in the bushes.
The terrier scooted on down the street, closely followed by his owner, a middle-aged man wearing headphones. Crouched in position, I breathed a sigh of relief and waited until they passed. I hadn’t been seen, after all. Time for my getaway. I eyed the crumpled newspaper on the bench, wondering if I should I cover myself or run. Run.
I sprinted in the other direction – past houses with front gardens and cars parked on the street, past all these things that looked normal, only none of this was normal.
My new house finally in sight, I ran faster than I’d ever run before, across the front yard and down the side path. By the time I reached the back door, my lungs were burning from exertion. I doubled over and caught my breath.
When I tried the door, I found it was locked – something else that wasn’t supposed to happen. I couldn’t even kick the stupid thing in for fear of making too much noise, so I tiptoed back down the side path and climbed the tree that was wedged between the house and the neighbor’s. Hopefully it would get me to my bedroom. Talk about undignified. Naked tree climbing was definitely not a good start to the day.
The window was open and a second after I jumped inside, there was a knock at my bedroom door.
Things were about to get more complicated.
Chapter One
“You’re running late, Nicola honey.”
Honey? Did people really say that around here?
As if waking up naked in the park wasn’t bad enough, now I was going to be late for my first day. I was organized. I was used to military precision. Hey, I liked military precision.
Opening the door a few inches, I stuck my head around the edge. “I’ll get dressed now, Mother.”
“Mother? Since when did you become so formal?” Her brow furrowed. “You haven’t even had a shower yet. And don’t forget your robe.”
How did she know? I closed the door and grabbed the pink toweling robe hanging on a hook. Pink? I was definitely not the sort of delicate feminine creature who liked pink. Someone had got that part wrong.
After taking the world’s quickest shower in the bathroom down the hallway, I threw on my school uniform, a blue skirt and white top that were the perfect camouflage for the day. Fumbling through the shoes piled at the bottom of the closet, I had trouble finding anything decent until I noticed a pair of fu
nctional black leather lace-ups. They’d do.
Downstairs, Mother was fussing in the kitchen while a man sat at the table, his head over a newspaper, a cup of coffee in his hand. Father. He was slightly overweight, hairline receding, his brown hair cropped short. Lifting his gaze, a smile lit up his face and his blue eyes sparkled.
“Don’t I get a good morning from my girl?” he asked.
“Morning,” I said in the brightest voice I could muster, adding heartily, “Dad.”
He took a sip of his coffee. “That wasn’t too hard now, was it?”
He had no idea.
I glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’ve got to get going.”
Getting to his feet, he leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. Stunned, I wasn’t sure what to do so I thought about everything I’d been taught and returned his kiss. I had to be careful. Little things like this could give me away.
Mother swept the car keys from the table. “I’ll drive you.”
“Really?”
“Come on,” she said over her shoulder, walking out of the door.
“Hey!” Father called out as I followed.
He tossed a granola bar to me. Breakfast. I couldn’t believe it. These people were really taking care of me.
In the car, I glanced at my 'mother' while I chewed on the bar. She had a friendly face with a warm smile, pale eyes and shoulder-length brown hair several shades darker than mine, which made her a good match for me with my blue eyes and light brown hair.
The drive to school felt surreal. The houses were mostly bungalows, hardly surprising since this was California. Some were Spanish style, some more contemporary, though to me they all looked dated. I’d seen photos of the area before my arrival, yet they didn’t come close to capturing the atmosphere and quaintness of the neighborhood. The quality of light was so different here, so crisp and clear it made the world seem brighter.
“You’re very quiet,” Mother said.
“Could you drop me off around the corner?” That’d give me time to observe what was going on before the start of the school day.
“Sure, honey.” She pulled over. “Don’t worry, you’ll make friends and fit in just fine.”
They were two things I had to do.
Then there was number three.
Raising her hands as if in a truce, she added, “I won’t try to kiss you while it’s humanly possible anyone might see.”
I smiled wanly and got out of the car, closing the door behind me. It wasn’t her words that got to me so much as the tone of familiarity and the way she looked at me, the affection in her eyes. I wasn’t used to all this warmth and encouragement, and it threw me.
Altabena High School lay ahead. A group of girls slightly younger than me walked past, giggling and staring. More specifically, they were laughing at me, though at what, I didn’t know.
As I looked at them, I noticed they all wore their navy skirts much shorter than mine, just under their butts, in fact. Uniforms had been introduced across the country by the Bartley government to give a sense of unity, yet these young women were trying to bend the rules. How strange.
Still, if that was the case, then I had to do the same in order to fit in. I stopped and hitched my skirt up by folding it over at the waist, left my white shirt untucked the way the other girls had, and got on my way.
Opposite the school, I stopped at the edge of a large group of students waiting to cross the road. They wore various sorts of sneakers: Converse, Nike, Adidas. I’d read about those brands and would have to wear something similar tomorrow but for now I was stuck with sensible black leather school shoes.
The students appeared to be making their way to school except for two young men ahead of me who were having an argument. One of them had curly hair that had obviously been bleached, the dark roots obvious, all of which made a mockery of his school uniform. The other was a little older, probably not a student at Altabena High, and he wore a leather jacket and jeans. This was exactly the reason I had to be careful.
A girl with blond stripes in her brown hair came closer as we crossed the road. I wasn’t sure what the style was called – foils, perhaps – whereas I knew what my hairstyle was called. A ponytail.
She screwed up her nose. “Are you new or something?”
I nodded. “Very. This is my first day.”
“Well, with those shoes it looks like it’s your first day on the planet.”
An astute observation. She wasn’t far from wrong.
“Are you a senior?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She tilted her head and frowned. “Because you look really familiar. Have we…?”
“We have definitely not met before.” I extended my arm to shake her hand. “Nice to meet you, I’m Nicola Gray.”
She looked down at my hand as though it were poisoned, so I pulled it back. Maybe teenagers didn’t shake hands here.
“I’m Lauren Wilson.” She pointed at my feet as we walked. “You’ll definitely have to lose the shoes.”
Lose the shoes? It didn’t make sense. If I lost something on purpose, it wouldn’t be lost. It’d be thrown away. Then it came to me. “They’re too square, aren’t they?”
“Square?” Lauren stared at me as if I was a moron. What had I said?
Suddenly, the young man with curly bleached hair and ridiculous dark roots careered into the side of me. He’d been pushed and I’d let myself get distracted. My first mistake. I wasn’t making another.
I dropped my bag, glancing across at the guy in the leather jacket. He was sneering, his eyes on the other fellow, ready to throw a big punch, a haymaker. Such an amateur.
I stepped between the two of them, blocked the punch and scooped it away. Too easy. The hard part was stopping myself from hitting him back.
He stared, took a step back. “What the…?”
I looked him in the eye. “That wasn’t a good idea.”
He laughed. “Lucky for you I don’t hit girls. You are a girl, aren’t you?”
Before I could answer, he stabbed his finger in the air at bleached-hair-boy. “You’ll get yours, pal.” Then he turned and left.
The fellow with the terrible dark roots put his hands out and announced to the crowd who’d been watching, “Show’s over.”
The students moved on. Meanwhile he couldn’t stop grinning as he gave me a friendly whack on the shoulder before leaving and said, “That was wild. Thanks heaps.”
Lauren handed me my bag. “Where’d you learn to do that?”
My mouth dropped open. I should’ve had a good answer but couldn’t think of anything.
“Forget it.” In a complete mood change, her eyes widened. “What the hell were you thinking? You don’t mess with dudes like that. The guy with the leather jacket isn’t exactly Snow White. He’s the local dealer.”
I wondered if she meant firearms, weapons or artillery. “An arms dealer? Here at school?”
“No, stupid, a drug dealer!” She shook her head. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“That’s it, I was kidding.” After some consideration, I asked, “Shouldn’t we call the police?”
“What? And snitch?” Exasperated, Lauren threw her hands up. “We should get to class.”
I nodded. “Yes, that was a heavy scene.”
She screwed up her face. “Are you shitting me? Where’d you learn to talk like that?”
I couldn’t tell her the answer and even if I could, she wouldn’t believe me. I’d watched lots of old movies in an effort to gauge the language of the time but maybe I hadn’t nailed the right era.
“I’d better report to the office,” I said in a small voice.
“Yeah, you do that. See you later.” She turned to leave.
“See you,” I said, emulating her speech pattern.
Lauren stopped and hesitated, then pulled a cell phone from her pocket. “Look, if you need anything, call me.”
I fumbled in my bag for my phone, then had trouble navigating the icons and worki
ng out what to do.
Lauren frowned. “What now?”
“It’s an old phone,” I said by way of explanation.
“No way.” She leaned over to look at the item in my hand. “That’s the latest G-Phone. They’re so cool.”
Cool. That was a word I recognized from my research. At least my phone was cool, even if I wasn’t.
“I mean, it’s new,” I said. “And I’ve barely had a chance to use it yet.”
“Those new models are fab. So intuitive to use.”
I stopped myself from saying anything. The technology was ancient by my standards.
“Look,” she said. “Give me your number and I’ll text you so you’ve got my details.”
I reeled it off. Luckily, I was good with numbers. It was people who were harder to work out. For one thing, Lauren was going out of her way to be kind when she didn’t have to, especially since she seemed to think I was a bit weird. I wasn’t used to all this…kindness.
At the front office, I spoke to the receptionist who scanned her computer, looking for the necessary information.
“What was your name again?” she asked.
“Nicola Gray.”
I’d kept my first name and taken on the surname of my new family. This had all been organized well in advance so my name had to be on the school system. I felt a pinch of discomfort nonetheless.
“Nicola Gray…seventeen years old…we’ve already sighted your birth certificate.” She read the words off the screen, then told me to take a seat.
While I waited, she shuffled through papers, checked out something on her computer and printed off a timetable for me.
As it turned out, I only caught the final ten minutes of my first class and I’d never been so grateful to be late. Home economics. Sewing, no less. Such a frivolous and feminine class was not for me and I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
During the break that followed, I placed some books in my locker and wandered around trying to get my bearings and learn the lay of the land. I also took careful note of my fellow students, listening to the way they talked and observing their gestures and mannerisms.
Infiltration (Infiltration Book 1) Page 1