Perception Read online

  ***

  The ambulance drove away with Jackson inside. Zoe wore my ball cap, stuffing her hair down her shirt. She’d played ignorant when the medics arrived, like she didn’t know this guy. He was some kind of tech-wacko. Maybe they should contact the senator.

  A paramedic had examined me and given me pain medication for the bruising on my neck. A conservation officer arrived to ask about the bear.

  “He just attacked, without provocation?” the officer asked.

  “It was dark,” I said. “And this other situation was going on.”

  “Probably looking for food and was startled by the fight. We do what we can to keep the wildlife away from humans, but it’s difficult when we interface so often with their habitats.”

  Asher hovered nearby with an emergency light. “Haven’t had this kind of excitement in camp for a long time.” He looked at me warily. “How long are you folks staying?”

  “We’re leaving now.”

  “It’s late, but yeah, I can see why you’d want to move on,” he said.

  I packed up the tent, while Zoe grabbed the food. When everything was loaded in the trunk, I gathered up the backpack, then opened the passenger door for her.

  “Where to now?” she said after I got in.

  I leaned over and nuzzled her neck. “I don’t know. How does Canada sound?”

  She kissed my forehead. “It sounds cold. Let’s go.”

  The End

  Lee Strauss writes historical and science fiction/romance for mature YA and adult readers. She also writes light and fun stuff under the name Elle Strauss. To find out more about Lee and her books check out her facebook page. To find out about new releases sign up for her newsletter at www.ellestraussbooks.com .

  I hope you enjoyed Perception— I’d love it if you could leave a review on Amazon. Thanks!

  Thanks!

  Other books by Lee Strauss

  Ambition (short story prequel to Perception)

  Playing with Matches

  Jars of Clay

  Broken Vessels

  Read on for an excerpt from VOLITION, book 2 in the Perception Series, coming 2013

  VOLITION

  By Lee Strauss

  ZOE

  Chapter One

  Noah’s eyes repeatedly darted to the review mirror and I swiveled to look out the back window. The sun disappeared behind the mountains bruising the horizon. Shadows stretched across the road and my heart skipped when I thought I’d spotted motion—a vehicle, but then it was nothing.

  I felt like we’d been swallowed by a monster, caught in a gel capsule, catapulting down a dark, curving intestine. The car smelled like nervous sweat and the interior squeezed down on me, pressing my lungs against my ribs.

  It had gotten dark and I was glad for the cover. I didn’t have to look into the mirror to know I looked like a plate of raw chicken. Plus, it meant I could cry without Noah freaking out, as long as I did it silently. I leaned my head against the cool window, eyes closed, surreptitiously wiping tears off my face

  We drove in silence for what seemed like hours, with only the noise of the wipers intermittently squeaking across the windshield.

  I wanted Noah to reach over and take my hand or grip my leg, or anything to reassure me that everything was going to be all right.

  For us and with us.

  He didn’t. His hands remained firmly on the wheel at two and ten.

  I dozed off.

  It’s pitch black until a strike of lightning jags across the starless sky. Shadows flash, trees bow in the wind. Noah’s face. Water streams down his olive skin, drops falling from long dark lashes.

  His hand clasps mine and we run.

  The wind whips my hair across my face. I can’t see. My heart pounds, loud with the sound of my rapid breaths.

  We are being chased.

  But by who? And why?

  Rain batters my face. It drenches my hair, soaks my shirt.

  Noah disappears through a hole in the fence. I go next.

  My shoulders scrape. My shirt is caught. I writhe and twist, but I can’t move. I’m stuck.

  They’re going to catch me.

  “Zoe!”

  I awoke with a gasp.

  Noah shook my shoulder. “You’re dreaming.”

  The sound of his voice after so many hours of not talking was jarring.

  “Are you okay?” he said.

  My head throbbed and I drew circles on my temples with my fingers.

  “I dreamed about us, running away from Grandpa V’s house. They were chasing us. I got stuck in the fence.”

  Noah swallowed. “There’s Tylenol in my pack.”

  I reached for it, retrieving the pills and slugging back two with what was left of our stale, days-old, bottled water.

  “The battery is low,” he said, lifting his chin toward the dash.

  “Are we going to run out of juice before we reach Reno?”

  We’d used the back roads to get here which was why it had taken three days. Main highways had better surveillance systems, something we needed to avoid at all costs. Agent Grant was on our tail.

  The GPS on the dashboard indicated that we were about ten minutes away from the outskirts of the city. I pulled my knees up to my chest, feeling a strong need to curl into a ball, wishing I could make myself disappear.

  Noah glanced my way. “How’s your head?”

  “Okay,” I lied. Pain sliced through my brain, but we had enough to worry about without me wimping out with more sickness.

  Lights glimmered like jewels in the distance and the sight of it energized me for some reason, like sparkles of hope.

  Or at least, something new.

  Noah geared down. “We need to get something to eat. I’m starving.”

  My stomach twisted at the thought of food, but maybe a few carbs would help to settle it.

  “It’s pretty late,” I said. The time on the dashboard indicated 3:17 am.

  “Reno is open twenty-four hours. There’ll be something.”

  He reached over and tugged my hair. “We’ll have to get a disguise.”

  “You want me to cut it?” I was startled at the thought.

  He paused and I waited for him to say no but instead he said, “We don’t have any scissors.”

  He slowed as we passed an abandoned fuel station, left over from the gasoline years. The wooden structure leaned precariously in the wind and I thought it would cave-in any minute.

  Noah pulled up beside it. “We’ll deal with the battery tomorrow. Help me push it to the back,” he said. I groaned with the effort but in a short while it was well hidden in the long grass.

  I fished out my shoulder bag from behind the seat and slid the hand gun between my flesh and waistband, sucking back as the cool metal passed along my skin. I jumped when Noah ripped out the interior side board of the driver’s door. My eyes widened when he pulled out stacks of bills and stuffed them in his bag.

  “Where’d you get all that money?” I said

  His eyes flickered toward me then back to his bag. “I made a rather large withdrawal. Before…”

  “Before you took me? I didn’t know you had that much money.”

  He shrugged and awareness dawned. He’d had access to my chip.

  “You withdrew from my account!”

  He straightened and shifted the bag to his back. “I didn’t have a choice. Besides, you still owed me money.”

  He was right. I’d hired him to help me find out what happened to Liam and didn’t get a chance to pay. Still, I felt violated, though I knew the feeling was irrational. He took it to save me.

  I stepped in behind him as we made our way through the long grass back to the main road. We traveled along the shoulder, careful to watch out for the soundless hybrids.

  “Don’t make eye contact,” Noah said. “We’re not hitch-hiking.”

  I was completely exhausted when we finally entered the first suburb sprawl. I, at least, had slept a little in the car. I didn’t kn
ow how Noah did it.

  We came to a convenience store.

  “We can get something to eat here,” I said.

  Noah grabbed my arm, stopping me from entering. “You can’t go in. Someone might recognize you.”

  “They might recognize you, too.”

  “It’s not as likely.” He pulled a ball cap out of his bag and twisted it on his head.

  I was beginning to wonder if he was ever going to touch me again, when he put his hands on my shoulders.

  I couldn’t contain my shivering. Noah unbuttoned his top shirt and wrapped it around me. “This should help.”

  He maneuvered me toward the window. “Keep your eyes on me. I’ll try to stay in your line of sight. Bang on the glass if you get nervous or scared.”

  I nodded and he kissed me lightly on the forehead before heading in. I stared through the glass into the brightly lit store, feeling like I’d just got left behind on the moon. I placed a hand on my lower back, comforted by the loaded gun there.

  Noah moved about the store, keeping his face toward me. He was taller than the shelves in the middle isles and he kept his eye on me as he grabbed at items.

  The clerk watched Noah’s hands, not trusting that he wouldn’t pocket something without paying. Noah placed a couple sandwiches and something else I couldn’t identify on the counter and paid with cash. The clerk gave him a double-take before accepting the cash, then shrugged and shook his head. No change.

  “I have to use the restroom,” I said when he returned.

  “I figured. They’re around the corner.” He handed me a key and then shoved something else in my hands. “Put this on.”

  “A wig?” I said. “It’s pink!”

  “They’re stocked up for Halloween. It’s this or green.”

  A deep moan escaped my lips when I looked in the mirror. A bare bulb hanging from the ceiling gave off a green hue. My hair was a mess and my skin was pasty pale due to lack of sleep and too much stress. I looked ghoulish. Perfect for Halloween. I tore the wrapping of the wig open with my teeth. The glossy neon-pink nylon strands were attached to a cheap membrane. I twisted my hair into a pile on the top of my head and covered it with the wig. It felt awkward and I patted it with my hands to flatten the hair underneath.

  Noah’s lips pulled up in a tight grin when he saw me.

  “Shut up.”

  He ran his fingers through the nylon strands. “You look cute.”

  I grumbled a response, then unwrapped my sandwich.

  Around the corner a motel sign flashed. It was a long, stucco building with paint-chipped trim and wooden doors. The woman in the office sat behind a desk, casually dressed in poor fitting slacks and blouse. Her eyes diverted back to the little TV hanging on a bracket on the wall. I recognized the soap opera, and was glad she found the program more interesting than us.

  Noah paid the lady with cash. I kept my pink head down and followed Noah up the steps to the farthest room down the hall on the right.

  Noah used the key card to open the door and we were hit with a waft of air that reeked of cigarette smoke. It felt like a cramped storage room, with only a tiny table, two wooden chairs, an ancient TV attached to the wall and a double bed. The orange carpet was worn out to the flooring beneath it. It took two steps to get anywhere, including the bathroom which stank like urine and I winced at the thought of having to use that shower to get cleaned up.

  I raised my eyebrows at Noah. “This is the best we can do?”

  “It’s cheap.”

  Noah closed the door behind us and fiddled with the thermostat. I rubbed my hands together, not sure what to do with myself. For the last three nights we’d slept in the car. This was the first time since we became fugitives that we shared a real, if gross, room together. I tossed my handbag on the table and then sat in one of the wobbly chairs.

  “It should warm up quickly.” Noah turned to look at me. “Do you mind if I have a shower first? I’ll be quick.”

  “Sure.”

  As much as I’d like to stand under a spray of hot water, I wasn’t eager to remove my layers now that I was finally starting to beat the chill. Plus, that shower stall….

  I folded my arms and closed my eyes. I started trembling, my heart racing, and my forehead grew clammy. Was this what post-traumatic stress was like?

  “TV on,” I said, then chastised myself. Of course it hadn’t been programmed to recognize my voice. I went to it, scanning the surface of the screen. The voice programming feature wasn’t obvious. This model was so old, it probably didn’t have that. I searched for a way to turn it on, finding a hand held remote in one of the drawers. I clicked it and turned it up, barely loud enough to hear. I didn’t want to watch anything; I just didn’t want to feel alone.

  Noah reappeared. His hair was glossy and damp, dripping onto a wrinkled shirt. “Your turn.”

  I nodded and shuffled to the bathroom and began peeling off the layers. I could smell myself. Yuk. I needed a shower desperately.

  I turned on the hot water and stripped down as fast as I could. Noah had left his soap and shampoo for me to use. I sniffed the lid. It smelled like him.

  I scrubbed down as fast as I could, finishing just as the hot water depleted. I jumped at a tapping on the door.

  “Zoe?” Noah’s voice reached me and I shut off the water.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m going out for a bit. I won’t be long. Wait for me, ‘k?”

  I wrapped a towel around myself, water pooling on the floor, but when I reached the door to ask Noah what he was going to do, he was already gone.

  Books by Lee Strauss

  Perception (book 1)

  Ambition (short story)

  Jars of Clay

  Broken Vessels

  Playing with Matches

  Acknowledgements

  Though writing is often viewed a lonely, one-person job, for me this is the farthest thing from the truth. I couldn’t have accomplished any of this without my “team.”

  Shout outs go to my writers group, the Indelibles, who keep me informed, encouraged, and entertained; my lovely editor, Leigh Moore, who took my words and made them shine; my proof-readers Lori Vanzyderveld and Marie Clarke, both who have a sharper eye than I; my early readers, Denise Jaden and Susan Kaye Quinn who gave insightful suggestions and direction; my cover designer Dale Pease, who blew me out of the water with the cover; my daughter Tasia for being my muse and inspiration; my son Joel who enlightened me on the topic of Transhumanism; and my husband Norm for being a steadfast fan.

  I’m also thankful to my friends and family for their constant support and encouragement, to YOU the reader for reading my book and sticking it out through the acknowledgment page (!), and as always to God, a faithful friend.