The Reverians Series Boxed Set

by Sarah Noffke

  A giant thank you to my first chair beta reader, Colleen. What would I do without you? Well, I’d have no one to agree with me on my flawless reasoning. Twins from another mother and father, that’s what we are. No one gets us completely because they’re all wrong, all the time.

  Thank you to my awesome beta readers Heidi, Katy and Kelly. All of you made such bold threats regarding my safety after you beta read this book. But still I love you and I’m glad you continue to help me. I need it.

  Thank you to the awesome bloggers who I couldn’t do this without. Heidi, Melinda, Shemelle, Jordan, Anna, Katy, Alma, Katy, Shannon, Krista, Chelsea, Kariny. You all are awesome and make my job easier and way more fun. If I forgot someone then I’ll just dedicate the next book to you. Just send me a note about it.

  Thank you to my wonderful friends. I told you all I was a writer and you still love me. Well, the ones who don’t will be put in a book and killed, so there’s that. Anyway, thank you to all my lovely friends. You make me feel so loved.

  Thank you to my family for all the support. You like my friends, don’t think it’s strange that I’m using a graduate degree in management to write YA fantasy books. Love you!

  If my books are any good at all it is for the sole reason that I have a fantastic husband who keeps encouraging me. He’s read all my books, even the ones I refuse to publish. Luke, you believe in me more than I believe in myself. Thank you for all that you do. I love you.

  And the final thank you goes to the little girl who inspires all my stories. Lydia, one day, when you’re much older, I hope you read my books. I dearly hope you enjoy the stories I’ve written. And I hope they make you proud.

  One-Twenty-Six Press.

  Warriors

  Sarah Noffke

  Copyright © 2015 by Sarah Noffke

  All rights reserved

  Copyeditor: Christine LePorte

  Cover Design: Andrei Bat

  All rights reserved. This was self-published by Sarah Noffke under One-Twenty-Six Press. No parts of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. If you are seeking permission send inquiry at http: www.sarahnoffke.com

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Summary:

  Austin Valley appears as it always has, but Em Fuller knows that appearances aren’t what they seem. She knows under the surface, that cracks are starting to form in this seemingly well-manicured society. She’s responsible for creating these cracks and for planting a slow dissension among many of the residents of this once happy city. Broken in a way Em never thought possible, she turns into a well-calculated, strategic leader. With the help of the brightest minds in Austin Valley, Em begins building an army whose only purpose is to protect the population of Austin Valley from their President, Victor Vider. Em firmly believes the success of her army is inevitable, that is until a new blow strikes her heart and she questions whether she has the tenacity to go on.

  Published in the United States by One-Twenty-Six Press

  ISBN: 978-0-9862080-8-9

  For Edie and Randy.

  WARRIORS

  Chapter One

  I’m shocked. Three months after Rogue’s death and nothing appears different in Austin Valley. Three months after we destroyed the majority of the cerevitium stored in the lab and there isn’t a trace that one thing has shifted. Three months after we learned so many critical truths about Vider’s corrupt campaign and everything feels the same in town. I’m shocked, but I’m not sad about it in the least. I’m proud. We’ve done our job. Covered our tracks. The Valley looks as it always has, with its perfect rounded edges and starched appearance. There’s no hint that under the surface a war is brewing. No one would ever know that behind the manicured homes and polite manners, many of the residents of Austin Valley are having rebellious thoughts.

  After we destroyed roughly eighty percent of the cerevitium in the lab Vider called for drastic measures. I knew he would. However, I underestimated him. I didn’t fathom that upon waking up to find his son dead on his doorstep and an entire year’s supply of cerevitium destroyed, he’d order the entire Defect population to be converted to Middling immediately. It was upon learning that news that I realized how little we’d thought through our plan. We thought we could take his ammunition and that he’d run for cover. We never considered that this would encourage him to bring out his bombs and cannons.

  I wasn’t unprepared for Vider’s command to sever dream travel abilities from over a thousand young adults. After witnessing Rogue die in my arms and walking out of Parker’s house, I’d wasted no time preparing for the attack I knew would come. And because of that I was able to act fast. Now thanks to Ren, most Defects have been saved from conversion. Thanks to my uncle, I’ve been able to infiltrate the department where converting happens and intercept Defects before a part of their brains is irreparably cut away. Most Defects, after listening to me, have consented to my plan and the dangers it promises, and therefore they have escaped conversion. Most.

  However, the Conversion department can only handle so many. The rest of the Defects are still being injected with the cerevitium that we failed to destroy the night we broke into the lab. This will be the case until they can be converted. And every day more cerevitium is produced to ensure these Defects’ gifts are suppressed until their conversion happens.

  Parker’s patients are the exception to this. Three months ago they received the same news and decision I give to those facing conversion. And if they decided not to receive their injections anymore then they know they must play the act, the same as all the Rebels. Nona, my sister, serves as a perfect example. She’s a Defect who is supposed to still be receiving the injections and yet Parker hasn’t stuck her with a needle in three months. And for most of that time she’s had her gift, but no one knows that. They all look at her with troubled eyes, the same way they’ve always regarded Defects. Most Reverians can’t wait until all Defects are converted and therefore ridded from our society.

  The whole population of Defects and converted Middlings looks the same but I know that inside something different is pulsing in their brains. Not Vider’s voice, but mine. The speech I gave them runs on the inside track of their brain. I’m the one encoding their thoughts but I did it through dispelling the lies, the ones Vider has told them since they were born. I did it through giving them what they wanted. Each and every one of these Defects has what they’ve craved. It’s not what Vider promised: safety, love, happiness, security. It’s something purer. Richer. Unique. In compensation for their compliance I gave these Defects their gifts. I showed them how to find them. How to hide them and therefore keep them. I gave them that which belonged to them.

  And now, because I have a population of Defects, and Defects who everyone thought were converted to Middlings, I also have an army. An army of ready, capable, and motivated individuals who all see the truth. Who all feel robbed. Who are all ready for revenge and waiting for my signal to attack the President.

  But we aren’t ready. We need people to join us. Without these people we’re useless. We’ll squander our chances. Without them we are just a bunch of kids with superpowers. We need a force. One that can persevere against any power and has throughout the history of mankind.

  We need Middlings.

  Chapter Two

  “Em, you’re doing it all wrong,” Soon-hee, Parker’s mother, says to me, the scowl heavy in her tone. Her bushy eyebrows are pinned up high, close to her graying hairline.

  “How hard is it to feed chickens?” I say, dumping the rest of the feed into the trough.

  “According to your imbecilic move it’s exceptionally hard,” the old woman says to me, scooping the feed back out of the chicken feeder with her wrinkle
d hands and into a pail. She shakes her head and mumbles something under her breath in Korean.

  I stand regarding her with a small bit of amusement and huge bout of exhaustion. The sun is already setting and after the long ride with the old lady barking orders in my ear the entire way, I’m way more tired than I am on a usual trip back to Rogue’s fa—my farm.

  “Don’t you see that you’ve fed them too much?” she says, waving her hands at the overflowing trough of grains.

  “They never seem to complain,” I say through a long yawn.

  She shakes her head, her shoulder-length black and gray hair swaying with the movement. Clicks her tongue three times in disapproval. “A fat hen isn’t necessarily a happy one,” she says, her Korean accent heavy in her words. I understand most of what she says, although her words are usually a bit muddled between her urge to throw them at me and also keep them in a language I can understand. Parker’s mother is nothing like him. She’s isn’t polite or complacent or nice, like the good doctor. And even still, she brings a smile to my face more than most people these days. I think I’m endeared to ornery old ladies. “You fed them too much,” she repeats.

  “They don’t have to eat it. Aren’t animals natural about consuming in moderation anyway?” I say, making for the gate, intent on lying in bed and resting my aching back.

  “Not ones that live in captivity and don’t have to fend for themselves, Em,” she says, marching up next to me. For almost seventy years old she’s fast and has a spirit I don’t think can be broken. I hope it can’t.

  “Reverians live in captivity and don’t have to fend for themselves and they don’t get fat,” I say, stopping to regard the woman who’s about a foot shorter than me.

  She straightens, pulling her shoulders back as she does. “And are these hens ruled by corrupt dictator who makes demands on every part of their life and forces them to act only in ways he sees fit?”

  I roll my eyes. “No, they’re ruled by Steven the rooster. He’s pretty laid back as far as roosters go, I guess, but what do I know?” I say.

  “Not a damn thing, as far as I can tell,” Soon-hee says, pushing the pail into my arms and trudging toward the house.

  I take my time circling back to the house, returning the feed to the barn and taking a stop off to see the goats. Jasmine, my goat, is just as happy as ever to see me. Each visit she bounds at me, finally knocking me over when she arrives at my hip. She’s grown and her coat is coarser these days. I give her only enough attention to allow her to let me go off to the house without “mawing” at me too much. By the time I return to the house I find that the old woman is curled up in my bed and snoring. I guess, although she’s unwilling to admit it, that Soon-hee is pretty tired from the whole day of riding. We only just arrived an hour ago and although I know she wanted to get a full tour of the farm we only managed the house and the chicken pen. I’ll have to leave her to care for things tomorrow, but judging by her behavior tonight I think she’ll do fine.

  I’ve been returning in physical form to the farm every week. I’m able to keep up with the day-to-day jobs just fine while dream traveling, yet that doesn’t offer the animals the care and attention they deserve. And also, my dream travel attention can be used in other places, securing our footing in this war. For all those reasons I recruited Soon-hee, Parker’s mother, to help me out with the farm. Her husband died a month ago and since then I’ve watched her grow restless. Each secret meeting to Parker’s house I’d spy her in the background listening and looking at me with strange eyes. Parker worked hard to keep the truth from his parents. He didn’t want them to know what kind of President’s rule they lived under. But just as poor Parker has had to learn too many times, he doesn’t see things quite clearly. His parents have known for quite some time what kind of dictator Vider is, but have felt powerless against him. They were content to live in the modest home they were assigned as long as their overworked son was happy. And they weren’t different from many wise people in the Reverian population.

  One night I spied Soon-hee’s curious eyes poking through a crack along the door and knew then what her role would be. Since her husband’s passing she was fidgety. She had months to prepare for his passing and almost looked relieved when it happened. So after the meeting I bolted through that door to find her scrambling back and pretending to be inspecting the nearby wall. “I have a question for you,” I said, pinning my hands on my hips.

  “I wasn’t listening,” she said, not meeting my eyes. “I was just wondering if this wall looks slanted. Does it look that way to you?”

  I shook my head. “That’s not my question. I want to know if you will watch over Rogue’s farm.”

  “Why would you think I’d have any interest in that?” she asked, scurrying around, pretending to be tidying up an already tidy house.

  “Because I’ve seen pictures of you in the house. You grew up on a farm, didn’t you?”

  “Oh, Ji-hoon shouldn’t be so sloppy with my effects. How dare he?” she said, referring to her son by his Korean name.

  I’d actually spied the album laid out in Parker’s suitcase when I’d confronted him about trying to escape the Valley. It was that night I convinced him to stay, that I convinced him to take on such an important role.

  “Do you want to do it or not?” I asked, growing impatient with the woman I later learned like to play games with conversation.

  “Why do you think I want to take care of some dead man’s farm?” she asked, batting her straight long eyelashes at me.

  “Because your husband has died as well and you look like you need something to keep you out of trouble.”

  “That’s true, I do like farms. Know them well,” she said, all the while keeping a causal manner like we were discussing lunch. “Even so, it’s some dead man’s farm. Seems a bit strange.”

  “It’s my farm,” I said, trying to loosen the knot in my throat.

  “Oh, really?” she said, a ring of doubt in her voice. “Tell me more.”

  Rogue knew exactly what he was doing when he convinced me to say the farm was mine too. I was reluctant. Not just reluctant, I was mortified to accept such an honor from him. At the time I thought he was being romantic. Little did I know that he knew he was going to die and was ensuring that by me accepting a partnership with the farm I would take care of it after his death.

  “Look,” I said with slow restraint to the woman who was trying my patience. “I own full rights to the farm.” And it was true. Rogue had seen to it. “It’s mine and I need someone capable to care for the animals and garden every day. If you want the job then I’ll take you there. Your husband has passed and Vider will think nothing of you going off to live with your family in the south. It’s the perfect excuse. But if you’re not interested then save me time and trouble and tell me now. No more games.”

  Soon-hee didn’t give me an answer. She simply turned around and strolled off. I was in the kitchen discussing options with Parker when she materialized a half an hour later with a small duffel bag under her arm. “How do we get there because I want to leave now,” she said, a small laugh in her voice.

  We rode most of the night and day to arrive here and I still don’t know if I’m making the right choice by allowing Soon-hee to manage the farm. But I do know I have to give my full attention to the war. And there’s no way in the world I can give up Rogue’s farm. I need it. I need to return here as often as necessary and know it’s being cared for. I need to return here and feel him as I have every week since his death. Forever and ever I need this farm. It’s something I’m assigning to someone else for now, but forever and ever it’s mine. It, like Rogue’s heart, belongs to me.

  Chapter Three

  I was going to leave a note with instructions for Soon-hee so I could make an early departure, but she was up before me, banging pots and the kettle around before sunset. I pop up from my spot on the couch in a panic. The old woman’s eyes land on me with a satisfied expression.

  “Oh, did I wake yo
u up?” she asks, zero sympathy in her voice.

  “I think you woke up the people in town five miles away.”

  “Serves them right for sleeping when there’s things to be done,” she says, shaking her head like she’s seriously deliberating on these lazy people sleeping at five in the morning.

  I nod and trudge toward the bedroom to dress and get ready for the long day of riding. A sharp spasm shoots through my back and I stop and reach for it like I might find a knife there. The muscle is tight under my fingers.

  “That’s what you get for sleeping on lumpy sofa,” Soon-hee says over the whistle of the kettle.

  “What was I supposed to do, cuddle up in bed with you?” I say.

  “The floor is much better option. The hardwood is good for your spine. Provides support,” she says.

  “Then why didn’t you sleep there?” I say, pushing my tangled hair out of my face.

  “Old back needs less support and old mind needs more comfort.”

  I sniff and give a mock look of irritation. Doing the ride on back-to-back days is not going to be easy on my body but I need to return as quickly as possible. There are new Defects being brought in for conversion and it’s my job to give them the “choice” to be converted to a Middling or live the lie and be ready to rebel when the time comes. I can almost time the look of disbelief that surfaces on Defects’ faces when I tell them they’ve received painful injections to suppress their gifts, not to help them achieve them. None of them want to believe at first that they’ve been tortured for all their young adult lives just so they couldn’t use their powers to rebel. Then as I cite the evidence their expression slowly morphs into astonishment, then fury, and finally vengeance. It’s beautiful to watch. I love my job.