Текст книги "The Moon Dwellers"
Автор книги: David Estes
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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 18 страниц)
“My dad,” I say, pulling to a stop. Tristan stops, too, and we reverse our course. My dad sees us coming and slows up. He isn’t about to let us do all the fighting for him.
He turns just as we reach him. The guards are upon us. Five on three. Tasers and whips again fists and feet and spirit—oh, and Tristan’s sword, too. So who has the advantage? I’ll give you a hint: it isn’t the guards.
A Taser lances out toward my father’s legs, but is blocked by a quick thrust of Tristan’s sword. A whip snaps at my head, but I duck and charge. I’m not full of rage anymore, but I do feel confident. Next to my father I feel invincible. He is my teacher. The best fighter I’ve ever known. Although I’ve never seen him fight anyone for real, I’ve always believed he is unbeatable.
I leap at the guard who missed me with the whip, kick him in the head, knock him over. Glance to my right.
My dad clotheslines two of the other guards, his heavy arms catching them in the neck and forcing them to the stone. Flopping on the ground, they gasp for air. Tristan has another one at sword point. Rather than finishing him off, he uses his forearm to send a shiver through the guy’s skull, knocking him senseless.
There is only one guard on his feet. The new odds: three on one. He runs, dropping his whip and Taser and pride in a heap on the stone.
We run in the other direction. I let Tristan lead this time. I want to keep an eye on my dad. I can’t believe it was that easy—almost too easy. It turns out it’s not.
A barrage of bullets keens past us and, instinctively, I duck and throw my arms over my head, as if mere flesh and bone will stop the hot metal pellets from hurting me. In front of me, Tristan yells out sharply and stumbles, clutching at his leg, which is slick and red. He’s been hit. The rest of us will be soon. It must not be bad, because Tristan manages to keep running, albeit less gracefully, with us in tow.
We reach the gap in the wall. The air is thick and heavy and smells of war. The bullets have stopped temporarily, presumably as our pursuers reload.
Tawni, Roc, and Elsey are waiting for us. We’ve led the danger right to them.
I look back, expecting a dozen guards armed to the teeth. One guy is running toward us, frantically trying to release an expired clip from his automatic weapon. It’s the guy who ran away before. He had time to get his gun but not the rest of his friends.
“Anyonegotanythingwecanshoot?” I ask in one breath. The guy’s gun will be loaded soon and we’ll be dead.
Tristan, cringing in pain, says, “Roc, did we pack anything other than swords?”
“Sorry, no,” Roc says, glancing warily at the guy with the gun. He’s getting closer. The old clip falls away behind him and he pulls a new one from his pocket.
“What about a slingshot?” Elsey says.
My eyes dart across to my sister. I am amazed when I see her. She’s standing there so calmly, even though I see her glancing between me and my dad, as if she’s deciding which of us to run to once the crisis is averted.
“That’s perfect,” I say. “Give it here.”
She reaches in a deep pocket in the back of her tunic, one I haven’t noticed before, and extracts a gleaming metal slingshot, fitted with a thick rubber band. It’s a really nice weapon.
“Ranna gave it to me,” Elsey says by way of explanation.
Frankly, I don’t care where she got it from. Not now anyway. I snatch it from her outstretched hand and start looking for a good rock to use, when I notice the handle. Cut into the wide hilt is a slot, which I flip open with my thumb, holding my breath. Eureka! Inside is what I hoped for: round metal pellets—my ammunition.
Considering the lack of entertainment in the Moon Realm, I shot plenty of slingshots as a kid and got pretty good. I’ve never shot a human before, but it’s no different than a tin can or a rock post. In one swift motion I extend my arm, load a pellet, and stretch the band back toward me. Rotating my torso, I locate our pursuer in my sight.
Despite all his bumbling, he’s finally managed to snap the new clip into his gun, and he’s just bringing the nozzle up to a firing position. I have maybe two seconds to get him before he gets us. I make an incremental adjustment to my aim as I zero in on his forehead. He stops, his gun aimed right at us. One second.
I fire, releasing the band with a dull thwap! and hoping it doesn’t misfire. To the human eye, the pellet moves as fast as any bullet, disappearing into the empty air as if it never existed at all. The only evidence of my shot is the groan from the guy as his head snaps back and he crumples to the ground, his gun landing on top of him, having not been fired.
“Yes!” I hear a few voices say behind me.
When I turn back to my friends and family, stoic Elsey is a little girl again, running toward my dad. “Oh, Father!” she exclaims, jumping into his arms, not unlike the way I did earlier.
“Are you okay?” Tawni says, directing the question at all of us.
“Fine,” I say quickly. “But Tristan’s been hit.”
“It’s nothing,” he says. “It grazed me—looks worse than it is.” The red blood is swarming over his leg and we’ll have to stop the bleeding, but not here, not now.
“We’ve got to keep moving,” I say.
“The bombs are hitting everywhere,” Tawni says. “They’re very close.”
“We have no choice. We’ll be caught if we stay here.”
My dad puts Elsey down, but she continues to cling to his waist. “Adele’s right,” he says. “Reinforcements will be sent to subdue the prisoners. Believe me, they will. Then they’ll search for us—plenty of guards witnessed our escape.”
“We’ll make it,” Tristan says. “We have to make it.” There is a strange confidence in his voice. Not cockiness—he doesn’t seem like that kind of guy. Nor is it a statement made by someone who’s gotten everything he ever wanted since the day he was born—although he has. It sounds almost like a prediction. Sort of philosophical; sort of mystical. And the way Tristan glances at Roc—intense, knowing—it’s like there’s something they know, or think they know, that they aren’t telling us. Something important. Something life changing.
When I became a mind reader, I don’t know. I am probably just imagining things.
My dad pulls away from Elsey’s grip and holds her hand, pulls her toward the exit. “Let’s go,” he says.
We creep through the rubble together. An explosion erupts somewhere nearby, sending dust and chunks of stone into the air. Another bomb hits further down the street, blasting the middle of a tall building. Weakened, the upper half teeters, leans, and then tumbles away, crashing across the road and into the next building, which crumbles under the weight. Beneath the buildings, people run out, frantically trying to escape the world that is caving in on them.
None of them make it. Not a single one. There are at least ten souls destroyed—five crushed under the weight of the massive hunks of rock falling from above, the other five killed by a second missile landing in the center of their escape route. Like so many others from the last few days, the memory of our horrific flight through the subchapter 26 warzone is being tattooed into my brain.
We flee down a street that hasn’t been hit yet. Bombs are going off all around us. The smell of death is in the air. The smoke chokes my lungs and burns my eyes. Elsey is screaming so much that my dad eventually just picks her up and carries her in his strong arms.
We pass through a deserted intersection filled with rubble. My mouth is dry from running and shouting and fighting. My legs are burning. I stumble on a broken stone, feel myself falling. And then a strong arm is there, grabbing me, keeping me on my feet. An electric touch: Tristan. Not grinning anymore. Lips pursed, serious. But also determined. I feel safe with him. He is badly injured, but still strong.
Roc, who seems to have a good idea of the city layout, leads us to the left, down a side street that is relatively unscathed. In fact, all the streets in this direction haven’t been bombed.
We soon find out why.
Chapter Twenty-One
Adele
Abruptly, Roc ducks into an alley. We follow him, mimicking his movements, flattening ourselves against the wall. I want to ask what we are doing, but Roc’s finger is on his lips—for some reason, complete silence is important now.
Roc has good hearing, because I don’t hear anything for at least another minute. But then I hear it: the sound of marching feet. Hundreds of them, maybe more. It sounds like a parade. If the thumping feet are the beat of the snare drums, the periodic bomb blasts are the bass drums. The feet are getting closer. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Directly in sync with the beating of my heart.
When the first line of troops passes us I hold my breath. When I realize the soldiers are so focused straight ahead that they aren’t going to see us, I slowly release the air in my lungs.
At least a thousand soldiers march by, each wearing a star patch on their shoulders. Star dweller troops. Although their sky-blue uniforms are old and frayed, they seem to be professionals, well-organized and confident. A little ragtag, yes, but deadly. Pissed off to the point of killing anyone who gets in their way.
When the last line of soldiers tramps past us and the drumbeat fades into the distance, we finally relax. Shoulders slump, deep breaths are taken, hearts slow.
“What’s going on?” my father asks. Other than hearing the bombs and listening to prisoner gossip, he wouldn’t have any idea what has been happening while he’s been stuck in prison.
“Soon,” I promise. “Let’s make for the reservoir.”
Once more, Roc leads the way. Although the bombing has finally stopped, I don’t feel safe. At any moment another contingent of rebels could happen upon us. They will shoot first, ask questions later.
Despite my fears, we reach the stream safely. Out of the city it is darker, but much less scary. There won’t be soldiers or bombs here.
“We need to talk,” my father says.
“I know,” I reply. “But first Tristan’s leg.”
“All over it,” Tawni says, removing a spare tunic from her bag. “You talk while I do this.”
“As quickly as you can, tell me everything.”
While Tawni tears off strips of cloth and bandages Tristan’s leg, I tell my dad everything. In bullet point form, I give him a download of the past few days of my life. Meeting Tawni and Cole. Our escape amidst the bombing. The news stories. Rivet. Our flight through the caves. The train ride. Cole’s death. By the end my hands are shaking so hard I have to clasp them together behind me.
My dad folds me into his arms and I expect my tears to flow freely. They don’t. I am numb, in shock from everything that happened. There are so many emotions inside me that I don’t know which to focus on, which is the most important.
“Adele, it’s okay now. You’ve done so well,” my dad says.
“She’s done even better than you know,” Tristan says.
My dad looks up, as if he forgot the others are here. When I told our story, I left out Tristan and Roc, didn’t mention their injuries, which are written all over their faces. I don’t know how my dad will react to having sun dwellers in our midst.
“Why are you here, Tristan?” my dad asks.
He recognizes him. I wasn’t sure if he did. I hoped he wouldn’t. When he asks the question, his voice is even, unreadable.
I half-turn, still in my father’s arms, making eye contact with Tristan. He takes a deep breath, as if preparing to say something important. I have no idea what he’s about to say.
“I have feelings for your daughter,” he says.
Finally, my body has an emotion to push to the top. Surprise, bewilderment, shock—all wrapped around a feeling of elation, bubbling up inside me, filling my heart, my soul. All of these feelings for just a boy? I still have no clue what it all means.
“Wait. You’re saying you’ve done all this because you have feelings for me?” I ask incredulously. Even as I say it, I know it is true. I have feelings for him, too, have felt the same desire to find Tristan.
He shrugs. “I hope it doesn’t sound stalkerish,” he says, “but that’s the truth. I just saw you and…”
“Couldn’t get you out of his head,” Roc finishes.
“But it wasn’t just that…I was worried about you, too. I saw how that big guy in the Pen was giving you a hard time, and I thought he might have hurt you.”
“What guy?” my dad asks.
“Just an idiot with a big mouth,” I say. “I took care of him.”
My dad laughs. “That’s my girl. And Tristan, I know it might sound impossible, but I was a boy once, too. I hope your intentions for my daughter are…noble.”
“Yes. I mean, yes, sir. Of course they are. Noble, I mean. I want to get to know her. You know, take things slow. If she wants to, that is.” He looks embarrassed, his face slightly pink. He is rambling. All because of me?
The conversation is heading in the wrong direction. We don’t have time for relationships, or crushes, or anything else normal. We have to think, to strategize. I know there is more to Tristan’s presence here than just me.
“Why else are you here?” I ask.
Roc looks at Tawni. “Tell ’em,” he says.
I stare at Tawni. Why does she know something I don’t? Tristan is looking at Roc the same way—evidently he isn’t in the loop either.
“Roc and I talked while you were rescuing your dad,” Tawni says. “Elsey, too,” she adds, which makes Elsey smile. “Although Tristan and Roc ran away to find you, Adele, there’s more to it. They’re different from other sun dwellers.”
“We’ve had enough of it all,” Roc says. Tristan nods in agreement.
“They don’t want to be a part of it anymore. They’ve decided to help do something about it.”
“We have?” Tristan says, smirking.
“Yes, we have,” Roc says, grinning back. “I just haven’t told you yet. Tristan’s going to use whatever influence he has to convince the moon dwellers to join the star dwellers, not fight them.”
Mine and Tristan’s eyebrows rise at the same time. Roc plows on. “Everything is such a mess. The Moon and Star Realms are going to destroy each other, making the Sun Realm even more powerful. We have to do this. It’s the only option.”
I look at Tristan. He looks at me. “Okay,” he says.
“Okay?” I ask.
“Yeah. I want to make a difference. Do the right thing. Stop my father.”
“What about me?” I say.
“You’ll come, too. We could use a bit of muscle on our side,” he says, smiling.
I smile back, excited about something for the first time in a long time. Traveling with Tristan, by his side, fighting for good—
“She has another mission,” my dad says, cutting off my thoughts.
“Wha…what?”
“Adele…” my dad starts slowly, his eyes tired and apologetic, “you’ve been through so much, I can’t even imagine…”
“What, Dad?” I say, urging him to get to the point.
“I need you to find your mother.”
“Mom?” I haven’t forgotten about her, not really. She is in the back of my mind somewhere, but it is just that we don’t know where she is and I’ve been so focused on rescuing my dad, and not dying, and Tristan, and everything, that I’ve kind of pushed her to the back. My dad nods. “Where is she?” I say.
“The Star Realm.”
“But how…?”
“They wanted to separate us, so they took her below,” he says, pointing down at the ground. “There’s only one place they would’ve taken her.”
“The Max,” I say, understanding now. The maximum security prison in the Star Realm. The same Max that I would’ve been transferred to on my eighteenth birthday had we not escaped. Unbelievable to think how different things could have gone. That I would have found my mom had I just left things alone. But then my dad would still be in prison. And Elsey still in that awful orphanage.
I am so tired. Emotionally, physically, mentally. All I want is to go with Tristan, to help him, to maybe get to know him, possibly hold his hand some more, maybe even kiss him at some point. And yet I say, “I’ll do it.”
“Then I’m coming with you,” Tristan says immediately.
“No,” I say, not wanting to say it.
“We’ll find your mother first, then we can talk to the moon dwellers.”
“There isn’t time,” I say. “Plus, the star dwellers will kill you if they catch you down there.”
“They’ll kill…you, too,” Tristan says, his words catching in his throat slightly as he says kill.
“No, they won’t. Not if I tell them I’m joining their rebellion. That’s what they want, isn’t it? For all the moon dwellers to join them? But they won’t accept that a sun dweller wants to betray his own people. Especially not you.” My words are firm, my logic sound. Inside, my stomach is in knots, my heart crumbling beneath the power of my brain’s logic. Why are you saying this? Let him come with you! Someone else can talk to the moon dwellers.
Tristan is shaking his head, his mouth tight and grim. His eyes look misty. When he looks away from me I feel tears well up. I barely know him, and yet…my feelings for him are so real. My soul aches. I blink away the tears.
My dad leans in close to me. His voice is hoarse, merely a whisper. “I’m so sorry, honey. I want to come with you, want to protect you, but I can’t…I can’t come with you, Adele,” my dad says. I already know he can’t. Elsey needs a father now more than ever. Plus, my dad can help open up lines of communication between the moon dweller leaders and Tristan.
Selfishly, I want him to come with me. I’ve been on my own for so long now, I just want my dad to be there, to tell me what to do, to protect me, to be my rock, like he’s always been. I’ve come so far. So far.
I see my dad’s face. I’ve never seen such pain in his eyes before. They are wet and red and tired. I have to be strong for him.
I hug him again. “It’s okay, Dad,” I find myself saying. At first I think I am just trying to act tough again. Then I realize it isn’t an act. The last six months, though hard, have chiseled me into a different person. I am the same, but different. I am no longer reliant on my father to protect me. I am tough. A survivor. “I’ll be fine,” I say firmly.
My dad tilts my chin to look at me. His eyes are wet. “I know you will, Adele. You are an incredible young woman, courageous and strong. I’m so proud of you. Be safe.”
“Do you have any advice?” I ask, hoping for some of my dad’s usual pearls of wisdom.
“Do what’s in your heart. And please, come back to me.” He kisses my forehead, holds his lips to my skin for a moment, his dark and tangled beard blocking my vision.
After all the crying I’ve done lately, I expect to be bawling now. But I’m not. Other than the few tears I blinked away, I feel strong, resilient. The fighter my father raised me to be.
I release my dad and turn to Elsey. “Take care of Dad for me, will ya?”
Elsey’s eyes widen. “I will,” she says solemnly. “Thank you for rescuing me.” She rushes to me and throws her arms around me. She’s not being overly dramatic this time—the situation warrants it. I hold her fiercely.
“I will never forget you, Elsey,” I say, speaking her language.
“Nor I you,” she replies. I kiss both her cheeks and then turn to Tawni.
Although I desperately want to, I can’t ask her to come with me. She has done too much already, and the road ahead will be too dangerous. “Goodb—”
“I’m coming with you,” she says, interrupting my farewell speech before it ever really gets started. I burst into a huge smile, hug her. I don’t argue. Like before, I know she won’t take no for an answer, and I don’t want her to.
I go to shake Roc’s hand, but he gives me a hug instead. I don’t know him that well, but he seems like a good person. “Take care,” I say.
“Till we meet again,” he says.
Finally, I turn toward Tristan. He is still frowning, his lips still tight.
“But I just found you,” he says.
Oh, how his words make my heart ache. I don’t fully understand how I feel about him, but I know I care for him. I have to be strong, have to stand on my own two feet. My body shivering slightly, I put my arms around him, hug him.
Under any other circumstances I would be embarrassed to hug a guy in public—other than my dad, of course, and Roc, who seems so brotherly—but now I don’t care. I need to feel his heat against me, the warm buzzing of his amazing magnetism, just one more time. I need it to remember him by, to get me through whatever is coming.
I raise my chin and look up at him. A single tear creeps from his eye and meanders down his cheek. I wipe it away with the edge of my hand. Once more, I have the urge to kiss him. I grit my teeth and ignore the feeling, pull him close for a final squeeze. It isn’t out of embarrassment that I choose not to kiss him, nor because I am inexperienced, having never kissed a guy before; rather, it is because I don’t want our first kiss to be our last, too.
I release Tristan and immediately feel the electricity leave my body. I feel numb again, unfeeling. “Where will you go?” he says.
Honestly, I don’t know. I’ve never been to the Star Realm, have no idea how to get there. I look at Tawni. She shrugs. A good team we are going to be.
Roc chuckles as he unzips his pack. “Here, take these,” he says, handing me a packet of maps. “Your complete guide to the Star Realm. I recommend following the reservoir around the city to the north”—he points in the direction we should take—“and then hang a right through the inter-realm tunnel. Typically you’d need clearance to get through it, but I expect no one is manning it because of everything that’s happening.”
I nod. “Thank you. For everything.”
I can’t bear to drag out the goodbyes any longer. I’ve just brought three-quarters of my family back together, and yet I have to leave them to find my mom. The last quarter.
I will find her—of that I am certain.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Tristan
She is gone. I watch her long, black hair fade into obscurity, becoming one with the dark cavern walls. When I turn away, I find her father looking at me seriously.
“She’s my little girl,” he says. I sense a protective undercurrent to his words.
“I’m not like my father.”
“You already told me that,” he says. “Now you have to show me.”
“I will,” I promise. I stride to him, extend my hand. “I’m Tristan. Tristan Nailin.”
He takes my hand, squeezes hard, crushes my fingers. A test, maybe. Although it hurts like hell, I control my face, don’t cry out. “I’m Adele’s father,” he says sternly. I raise my eyebrows, intimidated by the serious man before me. My judge. My jury. Without his approval, I surely won’t get Adele’s.
He surprises me by breaking into a huge smile, chuckling under his beard. “Just kidding,” he says. “I’m not really that tough. Unless you do something to hurt my daughter, of course. Then I’m your worst nightmare. Name’s Ben. Ben Rose.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Rose,” I say.
“Just Ben is fine.”
“Thanks. And I won’t do anything to hurt your daughter—that’s a promise.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” he says, leaving me and going to Roc and Elsey, who are dangling their feet in the reservoir.
I crouch down, put a hand on the stone. I imagine that I can feel small vibrations through the ground, the soft patter of her footsteps in the distance. I close my eyes and picture her green eyes looking up at me, her soft lips slightly parted. It had felt like she was about to kiss me—God knows I wanted her to—but then she didn’t.
I hope I will get the chance to ask her why.
I fear for her. The caverns are a dangerous place, and get more dangerous the deeper you go. Cannibals, marauding gangs of thieves, and now legions of star dweller troops roam the depths, preying on the weak. Adele is not weak—she’s proved that every step of the way with her fighting, with the slingshot—but she’s also not invincible. Like when I started this adventure, I hope I will see her again.
I still don’t know what our feelings are for each other, or why they feel so strong, but I want to find out. She is like no one I have ever met before. So strong and capable—but tender and compassionate, too. At least that is my first impression.
My only regret: I didn’t tell her what I know. It just never felt like the right time. I vow to tell her the next time I see her. Until then, she’ll live in my dreams, like my mom.
I kiss the tips of my fingers, touch them to the ground. “Farewell, Adele Rose,” I whisper.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Adele
My dad says that the purest love is that which is unlived. I am beginning to understand what he means by that. I don’t think I am in love with Tristan. At least, not yet. I mean, how can I be? We just met. But whatever we have, it is certainly pure, unscarred by the filth of the world we live in.
I hope I won’t regret having not kissed him.
The tunnel is right where Roc said it would be. He is wrong about there not being any guards, though, but they are both dead, lying awkwardly at the bottom of the stone staircase leading to the tunnel entrance. They’ve been shot and thrown down the stairs. I try not to look at their faces as we step over them.
We reach the top of the steps and I pause, looking back over the city. Thick smoke roils over the crumbling rooftops. A cheer rises up in the distance. The star dwellers have taken subchapter 26.
“Thanks for coming with me,” I say to Tawni.
“I didn’t have anything better to do,” she says.
I laugh. “You know, you’re not like your parents at all.”
Her face lights up, her gray eyes shining slightly under the glow of the overhead cavern lights. “That means a lot,” she says, tearing up. “Cole said the same…” She can’t get the rest of the words out as she stifles a sob with the back of her hand.
“I know,” I say. “Cole said the same thing. Because it’s true. He would’ve come with us, too. I know it.”
Tawni hugs me once, still afraid to speak, and turns to the cave mouth. A year ago it would’ve looked ominous, like the mouth of a monster, the stalactites hanging from above its teeth, ready to eat us alive. But now it just looks like a cave. Another challenge.
And I am ready.
###
Keep reading for a peek into the exciting sequel, The Star Dwellers, which will be published in September 2012.
Acknowledgements
Oh wow, where do I start? Unlike The Evolution Trilogy where I mostly did things on my own, The Moon Dwellers was a team effort. First, I’d like to thank my wife, Adele, for letting me use her name and for always supporting me and saving me from myself. You’re the best thing in my life and you always will be. Also, I’d like to thank my parents, of course, who read everything I send them (which is A LOT).
To my editor, Christine LePorte, for helping me turn my rough-cut gemstone into something sparkling and beautiful, and for your patience in my many technical shortcomings.
To my marketing team at shareAread, particularly Nicole Passante and Karla Calzada, who have been instrumental in helping connect my words with your eyes.
Thanks to my incredible team of beta readers who gave me so much positive feedback to keep me optimistic, while slipping in those precious nuggets of constructive criticism that allowed The Moon Dwellers to transform into something beyond what I was capable of on my own. So thank you Laurie Love, Alexandria Nicole, Christina Maness, Christie Rich, Danielle Dundas, Kayleigh-Marie Gore, Nicole Marie Passante, Kerri Hughes, Terri Thomas, Krystle Jones, Lynne Chattaway, and Tamika Dartnell-Moore.
Next up are my incredible cover artists/designers at Winkipop Designs. Thank you for all your hard work and for giving my story the absolute best first impression I could ever ask for. I can’t wait to see what you come up with for the second book!
To all my friends on Goodreads, I am a better person and writer from having met you. You make me laugh, blush, dance, sing, read, and write. I will never forget any of you.
And most importantly I’d like to thank all my readers who took a chance on me with this book or with Angel Evolution. Without you, my work would just be words on a page. You are the reason I write.
Discover other books by David Estes available through the author’s official website:
http://davidestes100.blogspot.com
or through select online retailers including BarnesAndNoble.com.
The Evolution Trilogy by David Estes:
Book One—Angel Evolution
Book Two—Demon Evolution
Book Three—Archangel Evolution
Connect with David Estes Online
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/David-Estes/130852990343920
Author’s blog: http://davidestesbooks.blogspot.com
Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/davidestes100
Goodreads author page: http://www.goodreads.com/davidestesbooks
Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/davidestesbooks
About the Author
After growing up in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, David Estes moved to Sydney, Australia, where he met his wife, Adele. Now they travel the world writing and reading and taking photographs.
A SNEAK PEEK
THE STAR DWELLERS
BOOK 2 OF THE DWELLERS SAGA
Available anywhere e-books are sold in September 2012!
Chapter One
Adele
Not for the first time since we parted ways, and surely not for the last time, my thoughts turn to him. Our lost kiss.
I wonder where he is, whether he’s thinking about me, whether he’s getting on okay with my dad. I hope my dad’s not giving him a hard time. I’m not sure what to expect, as I’ve never really had a guy interested in me before. For all I know, my dad might put on a tough guy act, even though he’s really a softy. The weird thing is, soon my dad will probably know Tristan better than I do.
We’ve been walking for two solid days, Tawni and I, trudging down an endless inter-Realm tunnel, making our way slowly to the Star Realm. Although I know we are, I don’t feel like we’re getting anywhere. Every step forward feels like two backward. It’s like wading through water, as if the air has substance, its viscosity slowing our every move.
It’s not just the act of walking that frustrates me. It’s the monotony of the tunnel. The tunnel is wide enough for half a dozen people to walk side by side, and tall enough for me to give Tawni a piggyback ride, although given she’s about eight inches taller than me, the physics might not work so well. The tunnel floor is smooth, packed hard by thousands of tramping feet, but the walls and ceiling are rough and jagged, as if it was excavated haphazardly by a century-old tunneling machine. Modern day tunnelers create perfectly arched passages, with smooth edges and glassy sides, at a rate of 5 miles per hour. This tunnel looks more like three guys with shovels and pickaxes carved their way through at about 5 feet per hour.
