VOLITION (Perception Trilogy, book 2) Read online

  VOLITION

  By Lee Strauss

  Volition

  (Book 2 in the Perception Series)

  By Lee Strauss

  Copyright © 2012 Lee Strauss

  Cover by walkingstickbooks.com

  ISBN 9781927547137

  This is a work of fiction and the views expressed herein are the sole responsibility of the author. Likewise, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are represented fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual event or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  The exciting continuation of the Perception Trilogy:

  Zoe Vanderveen is on the run with her captor turned rescuer, Noah Brody.

  They're in love.

  Or at least that's what he tells her. Her memories have returned but her feelings are dreamlike--thin and fleeting. Her heart can't be trusted. Just look at what happened with Taylor Blake.

  Senator Vanderveen's new team of cyborg agents are in hot pursuit, and a reward for their capture is broadcast nationwide. Record breaking cold and snow hinder their escape. Someone dies helping them.

  And their fight for survival has only begun.

  CONTRITION, the final book of the Trilogy is coming FALL 2013!

  Chapter 1

  ZOE

  Noah’s eyes repeatedly darted to the rearview mirror and I swiveled to see 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 peek into the mirror to know I looked like a plate of raw chicken. Plus, it meant I could cry without worrying Noah, as long as I did it silently. I leaned my head against the cool window, eyes closed, surreptitiously wiping salty 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, along with the heaving of my rapid breaths.

  We’re 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’s 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 silence was jarring.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  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’s 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.

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

  Or at least like 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 a.m.

  “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 by 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 soon 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. Noah ripped out the interior side board of the driver’s door and I jumped. My eyes widened when he pulled out stacks of bills and stuffed them in his bag.

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

  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.”

  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’d taken 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 suburb sprawl. I, at least, had slept a little in the car. I didn’t know 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.

  The evenings were chilly, 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 aisles 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 of 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 shoved something else in my hands. “Put this on.”

  “A wig?” I blurted out. “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 bathroom mirror. A bare bulb hanging from the ceiling gave off a green hue. My hair was a mess and my skin was pasty 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.

  We walked until we spotted the flashing of a motel sign. It was attached to 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 a 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 him to room 109.

  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 through to the flooring beneath it. It took two steps to get anywhere, including the bathroom, which stank like urine. 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’d become fugitives that we’d 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 said, turning to 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, ‘kay?”

  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.

  Chapter 2

  At least the room was warmer. I stood in my underwear as I blow dried my hair with a unit attached to the bathroom wall.

  I stared at my image in the mirror. My hair was long and yellow. It belonged to another girl. A girl who wasn’t me.

  I didn’t know who I was anymore. Grandpa V, my parents and my ex-boyfriend, Jackson, were to blame for that. The pink wig sat on the counter where I’d left it when I’d taken it off to shower. I twisted my hair into a bun and put it back on.

  Was I this girl now?

  And who exactly was she? The Zoe Vanderveen I was just a month ago no longer existed. That Zoe had an older brother she adored, wealthy and esteemed parents, and lived in a house on the ocean in the gated utopian community of Sol City.

  That Zoe fell in love with a natural on the outside.

  I bit my lip, remembering everything. The problem was I didn’t feel anything. It was like a movie I’d watched on my digi screen in my bedroom. An incredible epic romance.

  That had happened to someone else.

  Noah noticed. Every time he reached for me, I stiffened or subtly pulled away. By day two on the run, he’d stopped reaching.

  I knew I’d hurt him. It wasn’t that I wasn’t attracted to Noah—I was—but it was clear to both of us now that I wasn’t the person he’d fallen in love with anymore.

  Just who was I then?

  My mind felt like lead and my body a bag of sand. I crawled into the bed, my legs and arms stretching out, responding to lying vertical for the first time in days.

  I slipped into sleep.

  I’m in a cramped, confined space. My breaths, short and sharp, boom in my ears. I force my eyes open, but I can’t see. Blind darkness.

  Noises on the other side of the door. Who’s out there?

  Am I hiding?

  Sounds of shuffling grow closer. Drawers opening, cupboard doors crashing.

  My heart beats wildly. He will find me. If he opens one more door....

  Strong arms wrap around from behind. I gasp, struggle, but a voice whispers, “Shh, it’s okay. I’ll protect you.”

  I smell him, soapy, woodsy. The warmth of his skin comforts me. I fall limp.

  A gun blasts. The door swings open. I scream.

  I shot upright. “Noah!”

  My heart thudded, frantic. I gripped the gun under my pillow. I heard something and I aimed it toward the noise.

  Then I slumped. It was just the TV.

  I gasped as I stared at Grandpa V’s smug and self-important face looking back at me. A political campaign ad.

  —I understand loss and suffering…my grandchildren are gone, but I work for all the children of America…we are on the crux of national economic crises…there is hope—

  I took a fake shot at his head then lowered my trembling arm. I fell back onto the bed and broke out in manic laughter. My crazy, evil grandfather was running for office. He co
uld be the next president of the second most powerful country in the world. Hilarious!

  The sound of my voice pinged off the walls. Someone banged on the other side and I jumped. A muffled “Shut up!” reached my ears. My neighbors didn’t get my sense of humor.

  The door handle wiggled and I snatched the gun again.

  Noah stopped short when he spotted it pointed at his chest. His eyes widened with alarm. “Zoe, it’s me.”

  I burst into tears. I was turning into a mental case. I grabbed the sheet to wipe my nose and a long sob escaped my lips.

  Noah rushed to the bed and sat on the edge beside me. “It’s okay. I’m here. Did something happen?”

  A small hiccup escaped my lips. “Grandpa V’s running for president. There was a commercial on TV.”

  Noah sighed. “He said he was going to.”

  I gripped the sheet in my fists and pulled it up to cover the fact that I was in my underwear. “We have to stop him, Noah.”

  “But how? What can we do without getting caught in the process?”

  “I don’t know. I just feel so powerless. If he wins…we have to warn people.”

  The TV chatter filled the room and we stopped to consider the possibility. We no longer had a way to communicate with the outside world. Noah had ditched both of our Communication Rings and neither of us had laptops or tablets. We were completely without technology.

  I began to tremble, and Noah reached for me. This time I didn’t pull away. I tucked my face into the warmth of his neck and he rested his head against mine. He gently stroked the flesh of my back in soothing circles, round and round, stopping suddenly when his fingers reached my bra strap.

  I felt so hollow and lonely. Noah was the only person I had left on the earth. A deep-seeded longing bubbled up from the center of my core. I remembered how I wanted Noah back in Los Angeles and suddenly I wanted him now. I needed him. I wanted him to need me.

  I found his lips and kissed him hard, desperation erupting from my soul. I peeled off his jacket and pushed him onto his back on the bed.

  “Zoe?” he said.

  “It’s okay.” I kissed him across his chin and down the curve of his neck. “I want this.” I breathed deeply of the scent of his skin and my pulse raced.