Welcome to this week’s M9B Friday Reveal!This week, we are revealing the first chapter ofTemper (Lifer #2) by Beck Nicholasan upcoming Month9Books title!Be sure to enter the giveaway found at the end of the post!
FREEDOM COMES WITH A PRICE.Free from the spaceship and reunited with Samuai, Asher should be happy. But thoughts of her dead family weigh heavily on her mind.Things worsen when temper problems in camp lead to a murder. When Asher volunteers to get the drug need to calm people down, tension ignites.Loyalties are questioned.Jealousy rears its head. Sparks fly.And when rumor of a second ship hits close to home, all bets are off.Have the aliens returned? Is this the end of everything Asher has ever known?
Temper (Lifer #2) by Beck NicholasPublication Date: Feb. 23, 2015
Publisher: Month9Books
I always wanted to write. I’ve worked as a lab assistant, a pizza delivery driver and a high school teacher but I always pursued my first dream of creating stories. Now, I live with my family near Adelaide, halfway between the city and the sea, and am lucky to spend my days (and nights) writing young adult fiction.Connect with the Author: Website | Twitter | Facebook | Pinterest | Tumblr |Instagram
Complete the Rafflecopter for a chance to win!
a Rafflecopter giveaway
They come for me at nighttime.They gather around in the darkness, cold and emptyand begging me to feel something. I welcome them, the ghosts ofthose who’ve died for my freedom. A freedom I thought wouldsolve everything, or at the very least be better than the Lifersentence I’d been destined to live out before the revolution andthe truth of our incarceration.In my head, Mother is loudest, demanding answers for theloss of her son. If I can find out exactly what happened to mybrother, Zed, maybe I’ll find peace.
As I sit alone, guarding the rocky outcrop above the fieldwhere the rabbits we brought over the mountains are penned,a part of me longs for the Pelican and the safety of the world Iknew on board the ship. My world might have sucked, but therewas comfort in the known. Comfort in the certainty of my placein the order of things.
The splat of the first drops of water on my makeshift shelterhas my fingers tightening on the Q I hold. I’m on my feet beforethe shine of drops on the foliage around me registers in my sleepdeprivedbrain. It’s nothing but rain. Simple, brilliant rain. Amarvel after a lifetime inside. It’s not the Company attack we’vebeen expecting since we set up camp here on the other side of theUpheaval Mountains. But understanding doesn’t let me relax. I’drather fight—it’s the waiting that has us all on edge.
Single drops become a patter, and the plump rabbits belowmove to huddle in the shelter of the overhang on which I perch.I step out and lift my face to the cloud-filled sky, letting the waterrun over my cheeks and down my neck to dampen the ship-issuedsinglet I still wear. If Samuai recognizes it as his that his mothergave me when I thought he was dead, he hasn’t said anything.Once we would have talked about it because we talked and kissedevery chance we could. Not now. Since he returned, everythingthat happened while he was gone has built a mountain betweenus too big for young love to overcome.
I open my mouth, and water drops fall on my tongue, freshand clean, and missing the faint plastic taint everything had onthe ship. A taste I learned now not integral in the liquid itself,but rather a product of the recycling method used. Or worse, aresult of whatever it is they did to us to make us immune to theweapon that still has some of our allies in a Q-induced coma,fighting for life.
While most of us sleep in simple tents, one of the few intactbuildings at the settlement site is used as a hospital. The setup isbasic, but the equipment is a collection of the best of what wecould remove from the medical bay of the ship, and the greenrobes’ own supplies from their former hideout.
Once, it would have moved me to see families sitting in vigilnext to their loved ones. But I have nothing left for them now.The Company took everything from me when they killed mybrother and mother. All that is left in me is the hope of revenge.
I sense, rather than see, the small shape moving through thebushes below. A flash of white eyes and a blur of brown. Timefor guard duty. I steady the Q and aim for a rock in front of thecreature. The weapon that once only worked on living things isnow more useful. A press of the button and what was a bouldernow becomes chunks of gravel. Undeterred, the creature slinkslow onto its belly, ribs clear even from this distance. It’s ignoringthe threat of me above, its starving hunter’s instincts focused ona plump rabbit.
I aim closer, fire again. A rock explodes right in front of thedog’s nose. A yelp pierces the air. “Get away,” I shout. I don’twant another death on my conscience.
I breathe again when it disappears into the undergrowth. Itwill be back, I’m sure, but hopefully not while I’m here.
There’s movement on the path a few feet below. I straightenand try to see through the gloom. Something strides over thecrumbling rock with ease, sending no cascade of rocks and gravelbehind. Too big to be another wild dog. Too early to be the changeoverfor the next watch. My blood sings. Confrontation at last.
I lift my weapon, prepare to attack. “Don’t move.”
The shape ignores my barked command and continuestoward me. My muscles tighten, ready to spring.
“I thought I’d find you here,” Davyd says, stepping into asmall clearing at the top of the cliff. There’s something intimateabout the way he speaks, as though we have some kind ofconnection. Like he knows me.
I exhale, but don’t relax my stance. It shouldn’t be lightenough to see him clearly, but I do. I see the details of lean hipsin training pants and the singlet fitted to every hard muscle andmeet eyes I know are ice gray.
“That’s hardly a brilliant deduction,” I snap. “It’s my watch.The schedule is posted on the board where anyone can see.”
“But last night wasn’t supposed to be your watch.” His pauseis deliberate. “Or the night before.”
Only he would notice I’ve been volunteering for extra nightshifts protecting the animals we brought from the ship from straydogs running around our new settlement. Anything to avoid thecommunity that feels as much like a cage as the spaceship everdid. Only the bars are of my guilt and regret and the questions Ican’t bring myself to ask.
“It’s no secret,” I say, trying for casual but unable to hide thestrain in my voice. I hate the way he makes everything I mean tosay come out all wrong.
His mouth kicks up at the corner but he remains silent. Therain has made his blond hair dark, and if I squint, I can almostsee Samuai, his brother and the boy I thought I’d love forever.The boy I last saw laughing at dinner a few hours ago with hisgreen robe friends. The boy I have been avoiding for the weekswe’ve been here.
I fold my arms. Davyd’s no longer my master. In this new ageof freedom, those who were once superior Fishie and lowly Liferare now equals in the war against the Company who tricked usall.
“What do you want?” I spit the question.
“You.”
My traitorous body heats at the intensity in the single word.
“No chance in hell.”
“But there is a chance? Hell, huh?” He lifts his hands in theair, his eyes making a sweep of the jagged, barren rock exposedby the earthquakes that were part of the Upheaval all those yearsago. It’s as though in unspeakable agony the very earth has triedto push out its insides. “Does this qualify?”
I breathe in. The scent of rain on the rich soil where we keepthe rabbits fills my lungs. It should be heaven to be able to farmlike I always wanted, but the darkness inside me makes enjoyingit impossible. I shake myself free of might-have-beens. It is whatit is. All I can do is move forward, move on. “Go away. I don’twant to play your games.”
“That’s not what you said back at the ship.” He steps closer,uncaring that my body tenses. “It might have been weeks ago butI only need close my eyes and the memory is right there. You andme … I’m sure you haven’t forgotten the night of the ball?”
“The night of the rebellion when we Lifers gained our rightfulplace as free people. People who are no longer forced to serve youFishies to pay for our ancestor’s sins.”
“You know that’s not what I mean.”
I do. Damn him, I do. Before the fighting and the fire and theshock of Samuai’s return from the dead, there was the ball andthe dress and his arms around my waist and his tongue teasingbetween my parted lips.
“Admit it,” he says softly. “You’ve been thinking about it.”
My vision blurs. All I can see is the smug smile on his face.Like always, goading me, trying to make me break. “It meantnothing.” I don’t recognize the voice that scrapes from my tight,raw throat. “Nothing.”
“Really?”
“Really. It was an act.” I let my lip curl. “Surely you couldtell.”
His mouth twitches.
Did I hit a nerve? A moment later his mask of assurance isback. “So you’ve talked about it with my brother? That kiss weshared, the intimate press of our bodies. Sought out some timealone to clear the air and get back to how things were beforebetween you two.”
I swallow. My hands grip the rock behind me. I didn’t realizeI’d backed up, but I revel in the sharp edge; feel the sting of fleshbreaking and press harder. What I really want to do is close thedistance between us and punish him.
“We will talk. Relocating from the spaceship hasn’t left a lotof time for deep and meaningful conversations.” I don’t intendto explain anything to him, but the defense slips out and hangslamely between us. The same lie I’ve been telling myself.The truth is, Samuai and I haven’t spoken properly since theaftermath of the fight outside the Pelican; I’ve done everything Ican to avoid him. If we speak, he’ll know what I’ve become. Orworse, he’ll think I’m the same.
“But I’ve found you,” says Davyd. “We’re all alone withplenty of opportunity for talking … or other things.”
He’s laughing at me again. Damn him. Would it be so hardfor him to leave me alone for once with the stories I tell myselfthat allow me to keep going?
Anger surges up inside me, claws at my throat, wanting toget out. It’s not like I want Samuai to choose me over his newfriends. I have nothing for him now. The love that once flowedthrough me isn’t so much gone than blasted out. I’m not the girlhe left behind.
“Why do you do this?”
“Come and talk to you?” He frowns. “We’re old friends fromthe ship. We have to stick together.”
“We have never been friends.”
“Allies?” He moves even closer, and I arch back hard againstthe rock, just to keep himmountains?”
He ignores my jab. “They do now. We need to fight, and weneed to make plans.”
The urgency in his voice sparks something inside me. Aflicker of drive where for weeks there’s been only emptiness.“from touching me. “I’m here because you know this isn’t happilyever after. Nothing is resolved, and we can’t do anything about ituntil you admit there’s something wrong.”
“With Samuai?”
A pulse throbs in his jaw. “Forget my brother. He’s too busybuddying up to the green robes, and he’s forgotten the realenemy.”
“The Company?”
“Yes. They locked us up, lied to us, experimented on us,and what have we done in return? Killed a few officers and thenscurried like rats to hide in the mountains.”
“Do rats even hide in Attack the Company?”
He ignores my sneer. “Why not? Those of us from the ship areimpervious to their great weapon. We have strength and speed.They’ve made us strong. I say we use the way they’ve enhancedus against them.”
No wonder Davyd is never lonely for female company. Ihate him and yet find it hard not to get caught up in his desire.His voice, his energy, echoes the need for revenge that keeps meawake at night. But inside me lingers the voice of reason, too.
“We need to establish a secure base.”
“You mean give them time to organize an attack?”
“Maybe they’re not. We escaped them before. They could becutting their losses.”
“Do you really believe that?”
I push past him to stand at the edge of the cliff. From here Ican see the settlement off in the distance, glowing with light inthe darkness. Filled with the green robes who’ve been resistingthe Company for years and with the people the Company werebreeding for battle.
“They’re not going to take the loss of decades of investmentin their little spaceship program well,” I admit eventually.“They’re going to come for their property. I don’t intend to besitting waiting for collection when they do.”He’s including himself. Back on the ship he was importantas the head Official, Fishie’s, son. Out here he’s just anotherspecimen with no idea what the Company has done to him.We’ve all been violated, and we don’t even know how.
“What’s your plan?”
He runs a hand through his wet hair, scattering water drops.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. If I go to the councilas a lone voice then they’ll shoot me down; but together we couldpresent a case for action.”
“Why me?”
“Apart from this special connection we have?”
In a few swift steps my hand is around his throat. “Don’tpush me.”
“Look at you, taking any excuse to touch me. It’s almostromantic,” he squeaks.
The rain has cleared, and the clouds thin, letting the moonlight up his perfect, mocking face.
My fingers tighten. I’m squeezing, feeling the muscles andtendons give way to my pressure; his airway begins to cut off. Theanger inside me glories in the way his eyes bulge and his lips partin a desperate gasp for oxygen.
He doesn’t move to defend himself.
I hold his hateful gaze for one second, two. Now I have all thepower. It spreads hot tendrils through me, giving me strength.My vision blurs, and spots appear in front of my eyes. I couldshut him up forever.
Squeeze a little tighter.
It would be so easy. All I need to do is …Nothing. I drop my hand and crumble to my knees, pressingmy forehead to the rocky ground. Shudders wrack my body as Irock back and forth.
What have I become?Somewhere above me he sucks in a shaky breath. “Temper,temper,” he says softly.
My eyes sting, but no tears will fall. “Leave me alone.”
“Until the rage inside you overtakes everything else? Untilyou do something you can’t undo?”
“I warned you not to push me.” I grasp hold of that fact. Idid warn him. He drove me to act, goaded me until I didn’t havea choice.
But did his teasing deserve death?
I block out the voice in my head. But I can’t ignore the onea few feet away.
“This isn’t grief making you act this way,” he says, kneeling infront of me. “And you’re not the only one who’s losing control.”
“Don’t make excuses.”
“I’m not.”
His hand brushes the top of my head where my hair hasgrown into soft fuzz. It’s been weeks since Lifer regulations ofshaved heads have been left behind. Electricity skitters acrossmy skin when he touches my forehead, and it dampens the ragewithin. As the anger in me cools, I find the strength to lift myhead. “I’m guessing you have a theory?”
His mouth curves. “I would say ‘that’s my girl’ since youworked it out so fast, but I don’t have a death wish. I suspect youdon’t belong to anyone.”
Against all reason, I smile at the hint of admiration in hisvoice. I curl up and wrap my hands around my knees. I let myselflook up at him, relieved when the marks on his neck are alreadyfading. “There are others?”
“You’re the first who’s actually tried to kill me, but surelyyou’ve noticed the fights in food lines? The shoving over showeruse? The extra injuries in the practice fights that go too far?”
Guilt nibbles at the back of my mind. Why didn’t I noticeany of this? “I haven’t been around much.”“Believe me, it’s only a matter of time before someone fromthe ship loses control. Probably a Lifer.”
“Because we’re less sophisticated.”
His eyes don’t quite meet mine. “Because whatever it isthey’ve done, I believe they’ve done it to you more. The hardshipsyou’ve faced as a group, it’s made you … stronger for lack of abetter word.”
I want to argue but I remember too well how easily I couldhave crushed his throat. Only weeks ago when we fought in thelow gravity training rooms on the ship, he could overpower mewithout breaking a sweat. “Something’s changed.”
“But I can’t work out what.”
The rain begins to fall again. I close my eyes and let it coolmy skin. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to water falling from thesky. I’ve been too long in an artificial environment where everymolecule I’ve ingested came from a particular source.
I jump to my feet. “The ship.”
Davyd blinks up at me. “What about it?”
“They had control of our food and water.” I pace aroundhim as I think aloud. “What if they were drugging us to keep uspliable? Now, without the drug, the changes they’ve made haveno check, nothing to keep control.”
“But we brought the majority of the food and waterproduction with us.”
“It’s the Nauts.” In my urgency, I slip back to calling ourleaders by the old name from when we thought those in the graysuits were piloting us in space. It takes a beat before I correctmyself. “The Company added it themselves to the water, ormaybe the very air we breathed. Don’t you see? It’s a part of themhaving control over the experiment. We have our own inbuiltself-destruct sequence. We’ll all turn on each other before we canpossibly rise against them.”
“They’re the only ones who can save us.”
“But they want to destroy us.”“We’ll take the fight to them, there must be a way.” Anythingelse Davyd might have said is cut off by a bang from the directionof the settlement.
“Did you hear that?” I ask.
But he’s already running. “Come on.”
“But I’m supposed to be on guard.”
He spares me a glance over his broad shoulder. A look thatshines through the darkness and the drizzle and slices through tomy soul. “You play babysitter for some rabbits if you want to. I’mgoing to fight.”
I hesitate a beat. Long enough for him to disappear down thetrail. This time his hurried steps send rock and gravel tumbling,and the sound echoes over distant shouts. The sound of a battle.
My longing to be alone wars with the need to know what’shappening, and the fact that no matter how much I want to, Ican’t sever all links with those who came with me from the ship.
Q tight in my hand, I run.
