Councilor Harlan Sterne gazed out the conference room window, admiring his panoramic view of the Enclave’s prosperous city center.
He lounged in his high-backed leather chair, a satisfied half-smile playing across his lips. Here, in the Citadel—the seat of all power inside the Enclave—the anticipation of his imminent triumph was heady, intoxicating.
Everything was unfolding just as he’d anticipated. No, more than anticipated—planned, orchestrated, set in motion with the strategic cunning of a chess master.
Heavy rain slashed at Aubrey as she paused to take her bearings. She pulled the hood of her sodden jacket forward, shielding her face from the relentless downpour.
Of course — it’s raining. She smiled grimly, taking an odd solace in the bitter thought. Her shoulder still stung from the cuts she’d endured after squeezing through a barbed-wire fence.
A rainstorm is the perfect soundtrack to my Day From Hell.
There was no betraying sign of a Tracker, but that didn’t mean one of the soul-less killers wasn’t waiting just around the next corner. The City’s sprawling ruins offered a multitude of hiding places. Aubrey studied the broken-paned apartment across the street. She half-expected to spot the deadly glimmer of a Tracker’s scanning eye, staring hungrily down at her, but the windows were empty.
Like eye sockets in a skull. She grimaced, cursing her over-active imagination. Her hand moved to her abdomen, and she glanced down. Fear and loathing competed within her. I’ve got an Implant.The Hoarders …
It still seemed unreal. Why her? She caught herself and looked around in wide-eyed panic. Pay attention, Aubs! Don’t let your guard down!
She made a decision, stepping away from the crumbling tenement’s dubious shelter. Keep moving. She mentally repeated Sarah’s adamant advice. Don’t stand out from the crowd. Hidden in plain sight.
Water splashed over her feet as she crossed the desolate intersection, the traffic lights hanging dark and lifeless above her. She must find the other Runners — her life really did depend on it.
Keep moving. She sloshed through the ankle-deep puddles, ignoring her soggy footwear. Hidden in plain sight …
Aubrey reels from the news. Her heart pounds and dizziness threatens to overwhelm her. This can’t be happening. Why me?
It’s easy to feel resentful.
She’s doing the best she can, carving out a life for herself after the Hoarders completed construction on their walled Enclave.
Two years after what should’ve been her high school graduation — an event she’d only heard stories of — she moved north to a small village in search of work.
She doesn’t mind her job at the ramshackle café. Her boss is gruff but fair, and Aubrey managed to rent a tiny, but affordable, house in town. And when Thomas and Sarah moved in next door, Aubrey knew they’d become good friends. Things were looking up.
Her sense of well-being is short-lived.
Tonight, Aubrey sits in Thomas and Sarah’s kitchen, listening with stunned horror as they explain what a Tracker is, what it’s capable of, and the sinister meaning of “Harvest.” Their description of the soul-less creature is daunting enough, but Aubrey can’t fathom why it should matter to her, living so far from the Enclave.
Until a somber-faced Thomas pulls out a scanner, and Sarah gently turns the conversation to Implants.
The “Death in the Alley” scene represents a turning point (neither the first nor the last) in the fast-paced story of Tracker.
The first meeting of the two main POV characters, Amos Morgan and Aubrey Carter, isn’t your typical “Good afternoon, charmed to make your acquaintance introduction.”
Amos arms himself with a combat hunting knife, wishing for something deadlier. Aubrey’s life flashes before her eyes, and she almost forgets to breathe.
Everyone’s nerves are on edge, to say the least. Amos and Aubrey’s companions—Don, Sheila, Stephen, and the acerbic Jane “Snake Lady” Avery—share the same jittery trepidation. Narrowly averting disaster, the new acquaintances dare to relax, breathing a collective sigh of relief.
Then a third POV character—a Tracker—shows up.
And the body count starts to rise.
Trackers may be considered “soul-less,” but they are grimly efficient in their obsession with the “Harvest.” That Runners must die in order for the Trackers to collect their Implants is of no concern.
Amos is right—a combat knife is a mediocre defense against the brutality of an enhanced killing machine. But it’s all he has . . .
The first book in the Tracker Trilogy, available November 6, 2019.
Two generations ago, Earth’s richest citizens—the Hoarders—seized control of the planet’s resources, retreated into their heavily guarded Enclaves, and left the rest of the population to fend for itself.
Until recently, when the Hoarders began to randomly implant people with a new kind of micro-technology, capable of converting their unsuspecting hosts into violent and deadly automatons. They also created the Trackers, chemically and mechanically enhanced creatures fanatically devoted to hunting down and killing anyone unlucky enough to have an Implant.
Amos Morgan and Aubrey Carter, together with a small band of fellow Runners, must unravel the mystery, racing against time before the Trackers discover them.
And before their own Implants change them into . . .
