Days of Fury (Future Men Series Book 1)
Page 1
INDEX
PROLOGUE
FIRST PART
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SECOND PART
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CAPÍTULO FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
THIRD PART
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
AUTHOR NOTE
THANKS
ORIGINAL BOOK SOUNDTRACK
ORIGINAL BOOK SOUNDTRACK
Download totally free (for a limited time) the complete original book soundtrack of the first book of Future Men series, a small EP composed for six (6) tracks, which is available now on SoundCloud platform.
FREE DOWNLOAD* (ON SOUNDCLOUD) HERE
DAYS OF FURY (FUTURE MEN #1 SERIES)
KINDLE EDITION
The total or partial reproduction of this book or its incorporation into a computer system, or its transmission in any form or by any means, whether electronic, mechanical, by photocopy, by recording or other methods, without prior permission, is not allowed and in writing of copyright holders.
© B. J. Castillo, 2018.
Original Spanish title
Gente del Futuro #1 — Días de Furia
Translate by
B. J. Castillo
Eric Santiago
Cover by
JB Design (Jordan Bellis)
Publishing by
YGR © (Young Group Reading)
First edition
January 2018 (Spanish/English)
This is an original novel.
This one is for Tibisay, Genoveva, Katy & Rudy
PROLOGUE
November 2017
She pulled up her hood and walked through the dark and silent streets of the East Village. It was snowing copiously. It was before the cold front of the first onslaught of winter. Entire Manhattan was covered in thick layers of snow, and there, in that quiet East Village —perhaps the only silent area in the entire city— residential buildings stood on both sides of the street like loose pieces of a game of Legos. Only more somber and dangerous.
The girl was dressed in black from head to toe; black leather pants, dark shirt, and a jacket of the same color and material as the pants. The hood plunged her face into darkness like a cave. The contrast of the white snow on her black attire gave her a certain mysterious air, deleterious and furious, like the jaws of a rabid wolf.
Before starting to walk to the site of the job, she took a quick look to the opposite end, towards the end of the street. Her partner had parked the dark truck a block away from where she was. At that time, a couple was walking sideways with romantic attitudes. No one noticed the presence of the girl dressed in black who was in the middle of the road as a shadow confined by the moon. The girl in black, like a shadow, came to the residence where the defenseless girl was to be saved from the threat of the pyxis.
Knock the door. She knew that in addition to the new sheltered there was no other person in the house. This situation brought back vivid memories of not so long ago, of a girl who was in the same circumstances, alone and vulnerable, before the inexorable dangers of the world. She hit the door one more time. She knew that the doorbell was not going to be enough to tear the young girl out of her sleep, so it was not an option.
She hit again harder.
No one answered. The girl in black raised to her lips what, apparently, was a digital clock on her right wrist. She was about to send a message to her partner when she heard a fearful voice from the other side of the door.
“Who you are?” Said the voice.
She do not answer.
“Who you are?” the voice repeated, more fearful than before. “Who…?”
It was the moment.
“Helen McGraw,” she said at last.
There was a prolonged silence.
“Yes...”
“They sent me for you,” the girl in black heard herself say. “There has been an accident with your mother.”
She heard a bolt. The door opened after a second.
A girl emerged from the shadows, shy and barefoot. She had a shock of red hair curling down at the sides of her pale, freckled young face. Her coppery eyes looked at the other girl up and down, suspiciously.
“Who you are?” She hesitated.
They stared at each other. There was the sound of the wind that caused the snowflakes to oscillate between them. The girl in black stepped forward, conscientious. She put a hand to the edge of the hood and, slowly, revealed her face.
FIRST PART
Future Man
FOUR MONTHS EARLY
CHAPTER ONE
“The Earth calling Evelyn.” Tabita waved her hands at her. “Are you there?”
Evelyn blinked. She hated when Tabita did that, although she had the slight conjecture that Tabita shared the same feeling that she did with her detachment from reality. She was distracted, yes. Not like those people who forgot where they left their car keys, or those who lost their glasses when, really, they had it over their heads; her condition was more acute than that.
Evelyn came to her senses and fixed her eyes on her friend.
“Yes I'm here. Stop.”
“I'm sorry," Tabita said with a funny pout on her lips. “You have lost... again.”
Eve heard a slight buzz around her. Apparently the chemistry class was over. The students were leaving the room; there was no sign of Professor Henri, who used to rush out to the cafeteria for his afternoon tea, intervals before the bell rang.
“Let's go, girl.” Tabita gestured with her hands; Evelyn got up, picked up her things and followed her outside. “Oh, Eve, what am I going to do with you?”
The corridor was crowded by a sea of young people who rushed towards the exit. Tabita took her arm, as she used to, and gave her a radiant look.
“What are you doing this weekend?”
“Nothing, I suppose,” Eve replied.
“I do have a plan.”
“A plan?”
“Yes. For us.” Tabita was enthusiastic, and insufferable when she came to receiving a rejection; she never settled for a no, unless there was a good reason. And Evelyn never had one. “This Saturday will be the opening of the edom.”
“You mean the exclusive opening party of the club on the Seventh Avenue to which only those over twenty-one will have access?”
“Yes.”
“It will not be possible.”
"I say yes," Tabita insisted. “Pellet offered to get us invitations and make us false credentials, and you know he's a professional in it.”
“Yes. And he's also been in prison twice for that matter,” Eve said, knowing in advance that nothing she said would change Tabita's appearance. “Also, look at us, we just look like the sixteen we have.”
Tabita did not disappoint her.
“Oh, come on, Eve,” she insisted. “It will be fun.�
� She stopped before her and looked at her with a rascal. “Maybe you meet the handsome Caleb. I heard that he and his whole group will go to the party.”
Caleb. It was not at all a surprise to Eve that Tabita used that name to call her attention to the weekend plan. Caleb was wanted by everyone in high school; Evelyn included. At that time, she and Tabita were crossing the parking lot to the Dodge of Tabita's mother. The sunset sky, on the facade of Saint Savior High School, was a mixture of intense blue, golden and orange at the end, at the zenith.
“Have you noticed that he has not come to high school in these last days?” Eve said as if in passing.
“Who?”
“Caleb.”
“Oh, yes,” Tabita agreed with a joking laugh. “I heard that his mother is sick and that he keeps her company. Who'd say? Caleb Goodbrother, the most handsome and popular boy in high school, is also a gentleman caretaker of the poor and helpless people,” she added before opening the door of the Dodge and boarding it.
“I do not think her mother is a helpless one,” Eve replied reluctantly once she took the position next to Tabita's. Then he closed the door, put on his belt, and added, “Maybe it's more than a sickness.”
There was no way to know, the Goodbrothers, who had previously been neighbors of the residence Evelyn was currently sharing with her father, had moved six years ago after the death of Caleb's father. Caleb had been Evelyn's best friend in those times, they had shared so many moments together and their families had been united; Christmases, Thanks’ given days, Easter —And suddenly, everything ended after the move.
They were reunited in high school years later, but it was not the same anymore; they were not the same children and their personalities had also matured. Caleb became popular and irresistibly handsome over time, and although she was well aware of that, a part of Evelyn thought that the attraction she felt towards him went beyond the parts that shaped him, beyond space and time...
“Whatever.” Tabita made a gesture with one hand and with the other turned the key. The car lit. “I doubt that will stop Goodbrother from attending the opening party of the new seventh club. With his mother sick or not, Caleb will not miss the inauguration of the edom, and neither will you.”
* * *
Tabita stopped the Dodge in front of Evelyn's residence, a couple of streets from Prospect Park. It was an old two-story building, typical facade of the early twenties; on one side of the door was a plate —105— of stainless steel and a window covered with a curtain of folding lamellas. Eve said goodbye as soon as she could of Tabita, but not before enduring a string of pleas and oaths about the Saturday event. She knew that one way or another, she would end up accessing Tabita's insufferable persuasion.
Evelyn's father was not home that night. As head of security for the governor of New York, his constant absence was a stipend more than the office he held. She was used to it. Also, no one with enough brains would dare to enter the house of a high-ranking security chief like Taddeus White.
However, if that threat came to pass, then Evelyn would be ready. Her acute distraction did not stop her from paying attention to her self-defense lessons. It had been the only way to get her father to get some compromise by leaving his young daughter in solitary custody during his prolonged absences that, in the most execrable of cases, could extend up to a week.
The hall was a narrow corridor interrupted by a thin staircase to the second floor, the rooms. It was half dark and very silent. Eve closed the door, left her green-dark velvet jacket on the rack hanging on the wall and let go of the backpack on the side of the stairs, on the floor. She went to the kitchen and looked in the pantry for some frozen dish to heat. She found some pizza and chicken trays covered by an ice cape and as hard as rocks. She chose pizza, of course.
Her father had been away for two nights —Governor Schmidt was on a brief tour of Staten Island— and as he had informed her that morning before leaving for high school, his trip would continue until Saturday: two more days. She heated the frozen pizza in the microwave. While the device was doing its thing, the telephone attached to the wall rang. She was startled by the sudden burst of that shrill sound.
She inhaled, exhaled. She reluctantly picked up the phone and stuck it to her ear.
“Yes?” She said brusquely.
A snort.
“So you talk to your father, young lady?”
“Do not. So I talk to the device that almost caused a heart attack.” She Sighed. The microwave whistled. “I'm preparing dinner. Oh, you would love it.”
“I do not question it.” Her father laughed. “What have you chosen this special night? Pizza or chicken?”
“Pizza.”
“I thought so.”
“When are you coming?” Although she already knew when, it did not hurt to harbor a bit of hope. She took her gourmet food out of the microwave and removed the shiny wrapper from a tear while waiting for his father's response.
“Saturday,” he said. “I am sorry. I would like to return as soon as possible, but that's the way it is. I know you miss me desperately, Evelyn, but the governor can not interrupt your tour because of your deep paternal longing,” he added sarcastically.
She smiled.
“Of course not.”
“Good.”
"Good," she repeated. “I miss you with deep longing, by the way,” she added sarcastically. Although she missed it.
Her father laughed at the other end of the phone; hearing her grinning laughter infected her with the same feelings: relief and tranquility.
“Dad,” he said later. “I must hang up. My gourmet meal could recover its original state if I do not swallow it now. You should smell it.”
“I wish I could,” he said, smiling; then she heard him sigh. “By the way, Governor Schmidt sends greetings. He’s here, now, and he has heard all our conversation.”
Evelyn could not help but blush.
“Oh yeah?” She barked. “I also send greetings.”
His father laughed.
“Good night, Evelyn.”
“I'll be fine,” she assured him when she noticed a hint of regret at the farewell, as was often the case. Evelyn knew that even though her father was trying to hide it, there would be no word that could calm his natural paternal concern. “I’m fine. Really.”
“Did you start the alarm?” He said.
The question took her by surprise.
“Yes,” she lied.
“Hum.”
She already knew that hum and the tone he used to say it: he did not believe her at all. It was on his right.
"Yes, it's on," Eve insisted.
"Do not lie, Evelyn," he said seriously. “I'll send Ed.”
“Oh, no,” she thought.
“No Please. I will light it.”
“I will also ask Ed to give himself a round in the neighborhood. Goodnight, Evelyn.”
Having said that, he hung up. Eve did not have time to reply, or to pray. Ed McQuinn was one of the bodyguards of the governor's family, and his father had taken a liking to him during his training, like the son he never had. Ed was tall and handsome, and his interest in Evelyn —even if she was wrong— was obvious enough. Tabita still made jokes about it. Evelyn had never taken it seriously. Ed suffered from a sharp stutter that barely allowed him to formulate a word. She just had to wait for Ed to see her as the little sister he might never have had, and not as something else.
Whatever; Eve took her pizza and went to the living room, turned on the television and sat on the long old sofa opposite. They were going through a non-English-speaking-film special on HBO; despite the fact that the film they were transmitting at that time, one of their favorites, La Vita É Bella, was badly subtitled to English, of its original Italian voices, it was equally worthy of her complete attention until the end. At least for the most part.
Later, she went up to her room. After a shower, the world began to dissipate; there was nothing beyond her bed
and that comforting pillow. She pressed her cheek to it and sighed deeply. Then she opened her eyes, for a moment, and suddenly, there was her mother, in a thin metal frame on the nightstand, but not really with her.
CHAPTER TWO
It was late at night when Evelyn awoke disoriented. She had heard resounding blows coming from below. She scrutinized her eyes. She was still half asleep when she pulled back the coverlet, got up and put on a pair of gray slippers. Then she left her room. The narrow corridor of the rooms was almost dark and a ruthless cold enveloped it. Maybe it was just a dream, she thought as she descended the stairs; she had not heard any more blows since she left her room.
But no. Half a dozen blows, more forceful and violent than the first that tore her from the dream, finished up her mind. Her heart began to beat with frenzy. Once downstairs, she looked at the door. She caught sight of a chunky shadow through the dense dark blue glass. He was a man; Evelyn was almost sure of it. More hits
She was startled.
“Who there?” She finished asking. The voice came out feverish and sharper than usual. She had to control herself.
The strong and immutable shadow did not respond; instead, he lunged at the door again.
She glanced toward the alarm, a small white device with twinkling lights, attached to the wall on the opposite side of the stairs. She muttered a curse: she had forgotten to activate it. Just today, just that night, that her life could be in danger. There were more hits.
“Who there?” She repeated.
And then, silence.
The shadow moved away from the door, at least she seemed that way. She remained quiet for a long time. She went to the alarm and activated it: she placed the key and closed the compartment. Her hands trembled; her heart beat like a trapped bird. She was cold and, perhaps, pale as a ghost.
“Evelyn White.”
The voice came from the other side. It was a deep, pitted voice, almost as thundering as her father's; almost as if she knew it from somewhere else. It froze. She sighed and cleared her throat. That person knew her.