by Ryan Whitwam
GENRE: Sci-fi Thriller
Jonah doesn’t want to run–he has to. There’s only so much pain one man can cause before he needs to start over. Unstuck from his tainted past, he craves the anonymity he can only achieve by vanishing like a specter in the night.
Before his new life is even underway, a chance encounter leaves him in possession of a curious object–something the mysterious Keepers of The Oracle will kill to obtain, but there’s more to the Keepers than Jonah could possibly imagine. They have the ability to do much worse than kill, and now he's in their sights.
The Keepers wield power unlike anything Jonah has ever seen, and they’re closing in fast. He’s placed a new group of innocents in danger this time, and he can’t run away again.
Gordon had hoped to be done with work for the evening. Oh, he liked the work, of course. But after going through the girl's luggage, he had found himself possessed by a different set of needs. Still, Spring had been insistent.
He strolled through the entry doors with his hands dug deeply into his pockets. He fondled the lacy edges of the girl’s panties, imagining they were still warm from her body. Gordon believed you could tell a lot about a woman by the kind of knickers she wore, and he liked this one instantly. She was confident, aggressive, and maybe a little bit reckless. Such was Gordon’s assessment from undergarments alone. He hoped he’d have a chance to get to know her more intimately, but other matters presented themselves.
He caught sight of the idiot courier sitting straight-backed near the door. Gordon slithered up to him from the side.
“Kyle,” Gordon said. The man jumped, then stood abruptly.
“Yes,” Kyle said. “Are you one of the... the Keepers?” He whispered the words like he was afraid he'd be overheard.
Gordon didn’t reply, but nodded once. He looked Kyle up and down and wondered how much trouble he would be. He was in shape, but he didn’t have the look of a brawler—he carried himself all wrong. There would be no problem once they got him into the facility. He waved Kyle to follow.
“So,” Gordon said as they walked. “I understand you fucked up pretty badly.”
“It was an accident.”
“Ha,” Gordon clucked. “Still someone at fault when there’s an accident. Spring doesn’t much care for accidents, either.”
Kyle hesitated when they reached the car, an old but well-cared-for Jaguar. Gordon gave him a firm shove into the back seat then slipped in after him, making Kyle move all the way across the smooth leather surface. Gordon slammed the door and hit the lock button in one smooth gesture. He knocked on the divider separating the front and back seats, and the car sped away.
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Ryan lives in Minnesota with his wife and dogs. He writes words like the ones in this book, as well as some very different words on the internet about technology and science. He likes smartphones, sci-fi, and people who read his book. He's not very good at describing himself.
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