Rook: Allie's War, Book One
By JC Andrijeski
Published By
White Sun Press
28-year-old San Francisco native,
Allie Taylor, at least thought she was human. But when she meets her first real
seer, a race of human-like beings discovered in the 1900s, he tells her that
not only is she a seer, like him, but that all the other seers believe she's
going to end the world. Unfortunately, no matter what she does, everything that
happens after that only seems to prove him right.
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EXCERPT
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I stared out the dirty
window of the bottle-green Plymouth, watching trees and coast slide by. We were
still on Highway 1, nearing where it merged with 101, not far from the Oregon
border.
I hadn’t been on that
stretch of road since I was a kid. What took minutes on Highway 5, or even 101
from San Francisco to Eureka, took hours along Highway 1, making the twisting
two-lane road hugging the rocky coastline feel endless. But Revik wanted us off
the main highway, at least until we crossed state lines. Even within seaside
towns, he took side streets, avoiding the main “strips,” if they could be
called that in towns that maybe had four bars, a salt-eaten motel, a greasy
spoon, a church, a head shop and one drive-through coffee stand.
Somewhere near Fort
Bragg, he uncuffed me from the door. I suppose I should’ve been grateful for
that, but as my hands and ankles remained bound, my gratitude was limited. I
watched the sun slink into the Pacific as pelicans skimmed by, beating long
wingspans.
I felt him looking at me.
When he didn’t stop after a few minutes, I exhaled sharply, facing him.
“What?”
He turned the wheel of
the Plymouth, sliding behind the main street of another seaside village whose
name I didn’t know. We passed a few bars and an auto shop. His pale eyes shone
in the neon signs.
“We are low on gas. Can
I trust you?”
“Dehgo...whatever your
name is...”
“Revik.”
“Right. Are you going to tell me? What
that guy meant about me ending the world?”
He exhaled. “Terian was
trying to unbalance you. But it is true that they...” He amended, “...We believe you to be someone
important.”
“Important how?”
“Allie, can I trust
you, if I—”
“Revik, important how?”
Clicking to himself, he
pulled into a nearby Arco station. Stopping in front of a pump, he turned off
the ignition. When an attendant walked right up to the window, I realized with
some surprise that we must be in Oregon. Revik rolled down the window, which
stuck a few times. He gave me a last warning glance.
“Hey! Cool car, man!
What can she do on the freeway...?”
The boy’s words
trailed, just before his eyes filmed over.
Revik sat up to tug the
clip from his back pocket, handing through a few bills of paper money. I
noticed the attendant’s eyes didn’t look at me as he took the folded paper.
They also didn’t glance at the rust-colored stains on Revik’s shirt, or the
slash of the same on his pale neck.
“Revik...”
Frowning, he glanced at
me, then at the rearview mirror. I watched as he licked his fingers, rubbing at
the dark stain on his neck. Then he leaned over my lap and pulled open the
glove box. Taking out an oil rag, he poured some water in it from a plastic
bottle and rubbed it over his neck, erasing the mark completely.
“Revik, I’m hungry. I’m
thirsty, too.”
Instead of answering,
he handed me the half-full bottle.
I tilted it over my
mouth, drinking.
His tone remained
neutral. “Like I told you...historical periods have beginnings, middles and
ends,” he said. “At the end, the dominant species has an opportunity to
evolve...in several possible directions. We seers call these opportunities
Displacements.” In the mirrors, he watched the boy hook the pump to the tank.
His fingers gripped the wheel, green in the florescent light.
“…In some human
mythology, this is called ‘Apocalypse.’ Do you know this word?”
I rolled my eyes.
“Yeah. I might have heard it on one or two heavy metal albums.” I watched the
blond kid in the dingy overalls enter the convenience store. He walked to one
of the coolers in the back, pulled out a large bottle of water.
“...So you understand,”
Revik said. “This will, of necessity, affect all of the species, not just
humans. The elders have seen signs of the human displacement approaching. Some
of these signs relate to developments in the natural world. Others have to do
with—”
“Okay,” I said, still
watching the boy. “...So you’re paranoid. What does any of that have to do with
me?” I watched the blond kid pull two plastic-sealed sandwiches out of a
cooler, two apples, a bag of chips...
“Burrito,” I blurted.
“Get me a frozen burrito...he can throw it in the microwave, right?”
A hint of revulsion
grew visible in the set of Revik’s mouth, but when I looked back at the store,
the blond kid was stuffing a plastic-covered burrito into a industrial
microwave and twisting the grease-covered dial. When I glanced over, Revik was
watching me again, his eyes narrow.
He said, “The Bridge
ushers in the Displacement. They are the catalyst. They are also what we call
an intermediary being...one of the first. Historically, they gather three
friends—”
“Let me guess...the
four of us, we all ride horses, right?” I propped my cuffed hands on the
armrest. “I do read, you know.”
I leaned my head on the
glass. Glancing in the side mirror, I winced. I looked like I’d escaped from a
mental hospital, then got beaten up and thrown in a dumpster.
I saw him watching me,
eyes narrow.
“Trust me to attract
crazies even among the seers,” I said. “...Jon will love this.”
Revik rolled down his
window, accepting the receipt from the blond in the dirty coveralls. The blue
and white patch on his breast labeled him “Jerry.” Jerry handed a paper bag
through the window that Revik placed on my lap, where its warmth soaked through
my waitressing uniform skirt.
“The Bridge is the
catalyst,” Revik repeated, like I hadn’t spoken. “They have their place, like
any of the intermediary beings.” He turned the key, and the GTX’s engine
rumbled to life. “You need to understand your importance. Not in terms of ego,
but of role. It is a responsibility, Allie.”
I looked up from the
bag. “So, just to be clear. You're saying I am going to end the world...at
least as we know it. And that this is a job that I should take seriously...and
do really, really well.” I tilted my head at him. “Did I get that right?”
I watched him think.
“Yes,” he said. “That is right. Simplistic, but ultimately correct.” Before I
could speak, or even laugh, I saw his eyes click back into focus. “You will
meet Vash. Then you will understand.”
“Did you just read my
mind?” I said.
“Yes.”
“Is that absolutely
fucking necessary?” I said.
He thought about this
also, glancing at me.
“Yes,” he said.
About the Author
Shorter:
JC Andrijeski is a bestselling
author who has published novels, novellas, serials, graphic novels and short
stories, as well as nonfiction essays and articles. Her short fiction runs from
humorous to apocalyptic, and her nonfiction articles cover subjects from
graffiti art, meditation, psychology, journalism, politics and history. Her
short works have been published in numerous anthologies, online literary, art and
fiction magazines as well as print venues such as NY Press newspaper and holistic health magazines. JC currently
lives and writes full time in Sidhpur, India, at the foot of the Himalayas in
Himachal Pradesh, a location she drew on a fair bit in writing the Allie's War books.
Please visit JC Andrijeski's website at: jcandrijeski.com or her blog at jcandrijeski.blogspot.com
Please visit JC Andrijeski's website at: jcandrijeski.com or her blog at jcandrijeski.blogspot.com
