by Jen Crane
Also by Jen Crane
Descended of Dragons Series
Rare Form
Origin Exposed
Betrayal Foretold
Descended of Dragons 3-Book Box Set
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Subterranean Series
Sunscorched
Terminal Combustion
Sunscorched
Subterranean Series, Book 1
Jen Crane
Dedication
To Brock, Eden, Lou and Hannah-
the suns in my orbit.
Copyright Warning
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to or downloaded from file sharing sites, or distributed in any other way via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000 (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/).
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
* * *
Published by Carpe Noctem Publishing LLC
Cover Design by Cary Smith
Sunscorched (Subterranean Series, Book 1)
Copyright © 2018 Jen Crane
All rights reserved.
First electronic publication: October 2018
First print publication: October 2018
Digital ISBN: 9780996575676
Print ISBN: 9780996575683
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.
T.S. Eliot, The Hollow Men
1
Shadows in the Night
Home of Ana and Norman Chisholm
Ralston, Missouri
United States of America - Or What’s Left of It
Latitude: 37° North
Standing beneath the stars in the warm night air, Nori felt almost normal. Her face and hands were healing and she’d regained most of her strength in the weeks since she’d last been burned. If there’d been people in the streets around her, she could’ve been any girl, every girl.
But she wasn’t just any girl. Stuck inside her parents’ house, some days she thought she would claw from her own skin. Though they meant well, her parents smothered her. Sure, her condition made her health a bit fragile, but she wasn’t fragile. She powered through. She had grit.
Closing her eyes on a soul-deep inhale, Nori rolled her neck. Night was her sanctuary, the only time she could let her guard down and relax without fear of the agony sunlight delivered. Too soon, the obnoxious press of time squeezed her chest and she opened her eyes. A few hours of darkness each night weren’t enough. She’d take them, though, and wring every last minute from them.
“Running again tonight?”
“Mm-hmm.” Nori twisted her dark hair into a loose bun before turning to her mother.
“It’s good to see you up and about again,” her mother said.
“It feels good to be up and about again.”
“You sure you don’t want me or your father to come with you? We worry, you know.”
Nori bent to tighten the laces of her sneakers. “I know. But I’m fine. Really. No one’s ever out but me, and honestly I need the headspace.”
Her mother took a tentative step toward her. “Running in the dark, though… It’s dangerous. I’ve heard talk of revolts breaking out up north.”
Nori looked up at her mother’s face, lovely despite the strain. “Nothing ever happens here, Mom,” she said. “It’s Ralston. And I can see perfectly well at night. You know that.”
“I know, but I just don’t understand it. Why is it only you, and not me or Dad—or anyone else we know? Why are you so badly affected by the sun? And this night vision…I wish we had some answers. Is it really the same?”
Nori straightened, closed her eyes, and gathered her patience. It wasn’t the first time they’d discussed her unusual condition, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. She didn’t blame her mother for worrying, but there was nothing to be done. Nori had learned to live with her…disability. She wished they would, too. “When I go out at night,” she said, “it isn’t the staticky green of night vision goggles in movies, but…well…an overall saturation of light, you know? Like, a lightening of shadows and a depth to highlights. It’s different.” She shrugged. “But it’s okay. Does that make sense?”
“No.” Her mother’s laugh was laced with years of uncertainty and fear. “It never has made sense. Just be careful. And mind the time, for God’s sake. It scares us when you cut it so close.”
It scared Nori, too, but if she could only leave the stifling confines of her house for a few dark hours a day, there was no way she was relinquishing a minute of her time.
“I promise,” she said to mollify her mother.
Nori closed her eyes as her mother ran feather-light fingers over the faint pink scars of her cheek. “I love you, Nori Chisholm.”
She leaned into the tender palm. “I love you, too. Be home in two hours, tops.”
Over the last few months, Nori had mapped a course through the center of Ralston. She’d built her endurance bit by bit, and it was the first time she’d attempt to run the course in its entirety. Standing at the starting line she’d made with a strip of rusted tin, she stretched first her legs, then her back, pulling her arms over her head clasping her fingers together.
“On your mark,” she whispered releasing her arms and pushed a leg behind her. “Get set.” She fisted her hands, preparing to pump her arms, and bent the other knee. “Go.”
Nori shot forward, rounding the first corner of the course in a matter of seconds. The burn of her muscles as she picked up speed was cathartic, and the wind in her face wiped away another dreary day spent inside. As she ran, bits of worry about an uncertain future cracked and fell onto the street. The tension in her neck from near-constant fear, both of the sun and of the widespread devastation of another sunscorch eased and she rolled her shoulders to let it all go.
In the moonlit window of a hardware store, Nori caught her reflection. She straightened her posture and took a better look at the girl staring back. Her dark hair and round blue eyes only emphasized a too pale face. She pressed fingertips to the tender, splotchy skin of her cheeks and looked away. Time. She’d heal with time.
Shaking off the tendrils of self-pity attempting to snake their way in, Nori ran until her lungs seized and her calves screamed. She ran until she thought she couldn’t go on, and then ran some more.
Rounding one of the last blocks of her course, Nori caught movement from the corner of her eye. She craned her head for a better look. Nothing. A pained cry echoed down a nearby alley and though her heart was already pounding from the run, it thundered harder as fear-tinged adrenaline poured into her bloodstream.
Nori lifted a foot to run in the opposite direction, to run home. But that sound… It was a cry for help. Her father’s voice rang in her head. “Times are tough,” he often said. “Nobody makes it alone in a sunscorched world. Community is crucial.”
Taking a last deep breath, Nori ran toward the cry.
The buildings surrounding the alley obscured the moonlight, but that was no problem for Nori. At first, she saw nothing, heard nothing. Holding her breath and searching the shadows, she took a tentative step into the alley. Silence. Another step. All clear. On the third step, her heel met a piece of old wire, which clanged and cut into the silence. A figure sprang from the darkness, running in quick, jerky move
ments. Running for his life.
“Hey,” Nori called. “Are you o—”
Before she could finish the sentence, someone chased after the fleeing man. The second figure was massive, the kind of body that should’ve been slowed by the bulky weight of muscle, but wasn’t. He chased the first runner like a cheetah after its prey. Nori wasn’t sure the prey was a good guy, but she knew the predator wasn’t. Darkness crept into her bones at the sight of him and her instincts screamed to get far, far away.
She didn’t. She couldn’t. The runner was in trouble. If she tucked her tail and ran home to her parents, she would never forgive herself. She would lie awake in that stifling house wondering if he made it, cursing herself for being so gutless.
Nori clenched her teeth, powering through her fear, and ran to the next alley. She stopped before reaching the corner and peeked around the brick facade of the building. No movement. Not even the air stirred.
Then she saw him. The runner squatted, hiding behind a tower of trash. His face was steeled and determined, though his hands betrayed him with the slightest of tremors.
A shift in the shadows caught Nori’s eye. The predator approached the pile of rubble, sneaking closer and closer. The runner couldn’t see him, and there was no way to get his attention without making her own presence known. She was fast, but could she outrun the agile giant?
Nori backed away from the alley and leaned her head against the brick wall. Her breaths came hard and fast. She tried to slow them, to think. She needed a plan to help the runner. She needed to not get herself killed.
Only one idea came to her and there wasn’t time for brainstorming. She closed her eyes and nodded. She could do this. Taking off her backpack and fishing for a book from its depths, Nori offered a silent apology for the literary sin she was about to commit.
She peeked around the corner again and froze. The predator was nearly on top of him. One more step and the runner’s hiding place would be completely exposed. Nori brought the thick book behind her head and threw it as hard and far as she could. The heavy thump of the bound pages striking a dumpster drew the attention of the predator, who abandoned the trash pile and pursued the noise.
Nori glanced back to the runner. He’d spotted her, and the vicious look in his eyes scared her, too. She didn’t wait around to see who was more dangerous. She didn’t think. Didn’t look back. She ran.
Backtracking her earlier course, Nori ran for her life this time, instead of release. Fear drove her faster and faster, but her feet couldn’t keep up with the pace of her legs. She faltered, scraping her knees on the rough concrete. She caught herself before she fell completely down, though, and pushed back up into a run.
Even through the thunder of blood pumping through her veins, Nori heard footfalls behind her. They were uneven but light. And quicker than hers. She turned to see who was chasing her. The runner was limping, but he was fast.
Sweat-soaked hair stuck to his face, which was drawn in pain. He held a hand out toward her and called, “Wait,” just before the whites of his eyes shone like tiny beacons and rolled back in his head. He dropped to the street unconscious, incapable of softening his fall. The sound his head made when it hit the concrete sent Nori’s stomach lurching. She slowed, concern overriding her good sense, but jogged around the block.
Bent at the waist and hands on her knees, Nori worked to catch her breath. She listened, but nothing moved. Gathering the nerve to peek around the corner, she saw the runner still lay in the middle of the street. He was out cold. Nori threw her head back and groaned. She didn’t owe this guy anything else. She’d already endangered herself by sticking around and creating a distraction. He had escaped. Her job was done.
So why couldn’t she shake the feeling she should help him again?
“Fine,” Nori whispered to the unconscious figure in the street. “But if I get killed helping you—again—I’m coming back to haunt you, grimy or not.”
She sprinted toward him, her lip curling in distaste when she neared. He didn’t smell bad, but was covered from head to toe in a grayish-black grime. His clothes were probably dirty, too, but he wore all black so she couldn’t tell. Working quickly, Nori arranged his arms over his head and used them to drag him out of the street. She stopped twice to wipe her hands because he kept slipping from her fingers.
He was larger than she’d first thought. Probably around six feet. He’d seemed so much smaller than the monster chasing him, and as she struggled to drag him to a nearby building, she wished he was smaller. Much of Ralston was barren; abandoned after years of abuse from the elements. The building Nori drug him into had long been empty, its foyer and outer doors unlocked. Perfect for emergency shelter. Nori left the man to prop open one of the doors, and struggled to pull him inside. Just as she bent to remove the door prop, she sensed, more than heard, someone nearby. A slimy darkness skittered across her spine. Quick and quiet as a mouse, she shut the solid foyer door…locking herself in with the stranger.
Nori had faced physical challenges her whole life. By now, she was used to scurrying out of the sun, or lying with her eyes and body covered in cool cloths when she didn’t make it to cover in time. Her life had never been typical or easy, and she was okay with that because what she lacked in physical capability, she made up for with instinct and common sense. It was instinct that told her the man at her feet was the lesser of two evils.
2
It's Alive
A trail of blood disappeared beyond the door of the small foyer. The man Nori rescued lay face-up, the knot near his temple swelling fast. His leg oozed blood, the scarlet pool closing in on the tiny corner of space Nori occupied. When she found the wound—and the gaping tear in his leather riding pants—dread settled in her gut. The bleeding would have to be stopped if he was going to survive, which meant she had to do it.
Nori groaned and scrubbed her eyes, then set to work. She sifted through her backpack for something to tie around his wound, finding both a pocketknife and the thick, sun-blocking canvas she always kept nearby. She ripped a long strip of the fabric and wrapped it several times around the man’s injured thigh.
“Probably a good thing you can’t feel this,” she said to his unconscious form and, catching another look at the knot on his head, grimaced. “You’re gonna have a pretty bad headache, too.”
After tying the two ends together, Nori sat back to admire her work. Blood had soaked through most of the bandage, but it wasn’t seeping onto the floor anymore, at least.
Mom and Dad are probably freaking out by now, Nori thought. Curled in the corner of the foyer farthest from the man, she sat with arms wrapped around bent knees. The man outside hadn’t made a sound. Maybe he hadn’t seen her. Maybe he’d left. Or maybe he was waiting just outside the door.
Nori rocked back and forth, forehead pressed to her knees. Finally, she let out a long breath and stretched her legs. She was leaving. She’d saved the stranger. Twice. He was hidden in the foyer, and when he came to, he could find his own way back to safety.
Bracing herself on the wall to stand, she kept as far as possible from the unconscious body between her and the door. Stretching over him to reach the door, she extended one leg, straddling him only a moment until she lifted the other to join it. But as she raised her back foot, the front one was knocked from under her, sending her roughly down onto her butt. She yelped and looked wildly around, scurrying back to the foyer wall. Hands in front of her face, she prepared to defend herself as best she could.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. His voice was deep, but not threatening. “Where are we?”
Nori flattened her palms to the wall, pushing herself against it to stand again. She didn’t answer.
The steely eyes from the alley focused on her face. He surveyed her hair, her shoes, and her clothes before finding her eyes.
“What did you throw?” he asked.
The question caught her off guard. “Wh-what?”
“What did you throw? To distract h
im?”
“A book.”
“A book?”
Nori nodded as she edged toward the door—and the street.
“What were you doing with a book?” he asked.
“Reading,” she said, pinning him with a look that seriously doubted his intelligence.
Dark eyebrows lowered over narrowed eyes. “In the dark?”
Nori bit the inside of her cheek. “Of course not,” she said. She’d been running in the dark, not reading, though she often did. But he didn’t have to know that. “It was in my backpack from earlier today.”
He squinted, as if he didn’t quite believe her. “What happened to your face?”
She reflexively touched the pink patches, a fresh new layer where sun-damaged skin had peeled away. The pink was fading, but not entirely healed.
“Sunburn,” she said. “Stayed out too long.”
“That happen a lot?”
“What business is it of yours?” she snapped. “And you can say ‘thanks for saving me’ anytime.”
His eyes shot down for a moment before he lifted them to meet her gaze. “Thank you.” His voice was quieter, sincere. “I know you put your own life at risk. Thank you for saving me.”
“Twice,” she said. “I saved you twice. Once with the book, and the other by hauling you in here when you were unconscious to bandage your leg. Technically, I guess that’s three times.”
“All right.” His lips twitched. “I owe you one. Or three.” As if he hadn’t noticed it before, he looked down at his thigh and then back to Nori. “First time to make a tourniquet?”
She lifted her head. “You were bleeding all over the floor. I did the best I could with what I had. What happened to you, anyway? You must’ve lost a lot of blood to pass out like that.”