In
2152 the avian race is on Earth looking for something stolen from them decades
ago – their genetics. At the center of the search lies the Rural Republic; a
small backwards farming country with high hopes of military domination and a
penchant for illegal bioengineering.
19 year old Junco Coot is the daughter of the Rural Republic’s ranking commander. She’s the most foul-mouthed, wildly unpredictable and ruthless sniper the Rural Republic has ever trained. But when her father’s death sparks a trip into forbidden places, she triggers events that will change everything she knows to be true.
As an elite avian military officer, Tier’s mission is to destroy the bioengineering projects, kill Commander Coot’s daughter, and return home immediately. There’s just one problem. Junco isn’t who she claims to be.
With no one to trust, not even herself, Junco must confront the secrets of her past and accept her place in the future, or risk losing herself completely.
19 year old Junco Coot is the daughter of the Rural Republic’s ranking commander. She’s the most foul-mouthed, wildly unpredictable and ruthless sniper the Rural Republic has ever trained. But when her father’s death sparks a trip into forbidden places, she triggers events that will change everything she knows to be true.
As an elite avian military officer, Tier’s mission is to destroy the bioengineering projects, kill Commander Coot’s daughter, and return home immediately. There’s just one problem. Junco isn’t who she claims to be.
With no one to trust, not even herself, Junco must confront the secrets of her past and accept her place in the future, or risk losing herself completely.
EXCERPT
"I
think we should stick together, Junco. In fact I was thinking I can help get ya
back to safety. Ya know, help ya get the Goat back up on the road. Even though
yer healed, yer still pretty–" He hesitates.
"I’m
pretty?" I ask.
He
laughs a little and shakes his head, which pisses me off for some reason.
"No, I was going to say pretty weak, ya know. From yesterday’s crash. But
then I wondered if ya would take that as an insult as well."
I
roll my eyes and try to push past him to get the winch hooked up to a tree, but
he leans his hands on either side of the Goat, essentially boxing me in. I
shoot him a nasty look and he drops his hands to let me through.
"Thanks
for all your help," I call back to him, "but I’m going to take it
from here. And I won’t report you, so don’t worry about that. Just get hell out
of the RR before anyone else sees you." I turn to see how he’s taking the
news but he’s not there. When I turn back he’s in front of me again.
He
shakes his head at me.
I
shake mine back and raise my eyebrows.
"You’ll
refuse my help?"
"Look,"
I huff, "you have those people tracking you and neither of us is supposed
to be out here in the first place, so let’s just cut our losses and move on.
Separately."
He
looks down to the tech that is still in his hand. "They can’t see anything
here. Some sort of shield."
"Right.
That’s called a defense system. The deeper you go into the Stag, the thicker
the shields. So why don’t you just fly over to the Mountain Republic where they
probably can track you?"
He
lifts the device to illustrate his point. "In case ya haven’t figured it
out yet, these people aren’t my ride home."
"So
why are they tracking you?"
His
eyes twinkle and I know what’s coming and push past him at a full run. He’s on
me before I can take more than half a dozen strides and pulls on my shirt until
I slip in the mud and go down hard on my back.
"Stop!"
I scream, but instead of stopping he pins my arms down and sits on top of me as
I wriggle and kick to try and get him off. His legs twine around mine, essentially
cutting off any thoughts of getting him off me that way. Then his eyes are
glowing again and his lips are touching my cheek, whispering for me to settle
and be calm.
To
my surprise, I do settle. I can’t help it. I realize too late that the soft
words brushing past the sensitive skin on my cheek are controlling me. I can
feel the sound waves trickling into my ear canal, making their way to the nerve
pathways that control my muscles, and I bring my shoulders up to try and push
his face away. His lips remain next to my ear and I am just about to fully give
in when the tech device, forgotten and left on the ground during our struggle,
sounds off an alarm. He loses his concentration and the words stop for half a
moment, but that’s all I need.
I
take my opportunity and flip myself over so that I’m on my belly. This takes
him by surprise and for a split-second he is off balance. I flip back around
and use my right arm to knock him in the windpipe as my body turns. He goes
reeling off of me and I’m up and running down into the little creek.
A
boot goes flying just past my head, but I don’t stop and wonder at this weird
turn of events. I run as hard as I can, over the opposite bank, out of the
small grove of cottonwoods, and into the tall flowing prairie grass. I’m short,
so the leftover husks slap me in the face as I run, blurring my vision.
The
wings descend and he’s swooping down upon me. I look up to see talons where his
boots were just a few minutes ago and they latch onto my shoulders, puncturing
my skin and making me scream. His grip tightens and clutches onto my shoulders
making me fall. I roll as I land and pop back up, booking it again without
missing a beat.
One
second I’m hauling ass towards the open prairie, the next he’s on the ground in
front of me and we’re on a collision path. I plan my move and let him get to
within a few strides of me and then I flip into the air and land on the other
side of him. He misses a step and I take advantage of it, turn and deliver a
hook kick to his jaw. His head snaps to the side and he stumbles over sideways
a little.
I
run hard for a few seconds and don’t look back. Off in the distance I hear the
roar of a hovercopter and a few seconds later I feel the effects of the prairie
grass wind tunnel it creates from the blades, but still I push my way through
the now wildly swaying wheat until I come upon the alien again.
His
lip is bleeding and his jaw is slightly red from my kick. I stop in my tracks,
bent over and panting hard.
He’s
not even out of breath.
"I’m
not the enemy, Junco," he screams above the roar, "and if you know
what’s good for ya, you’ll run like hell because if those guys from the
Mountain Republic get you, you’ll end up in the same messed-up place as your
father."
He
flies off, disappearing in the tallgrass before I can even string together a
sentence.
But
his words stay with me. Dead like my father is not something I want to be so I
follow his advice. I run until the MR soldiers in the hovercopter blast me with
a plasma bolt and I fall to the ground unconscious.
Author
Info:
J.
A. Huss never took a creative writing class in her life. Some would say it
shows. Others might cut her some slack. She did however, get educated and
graduated from Colorado State University with a B.S. in Equine Science. She had
grand dreams of getting a Ph.D. but while she loves science, she hated academia
and settled for a M.S. in Forensic Toxicology from the University of Florida.
She’s always packing heat and
she is owned by two donkeys, five dogs, more chickens and ducks than she can
count, and of course, the real filthy animals, her kids. The I Am Just Junco
series was born after falling in love with the ugliest part of Colorado and the
Rural Republic is based on the area of the state she currently resides in, minus
the mutants, of course.
Connect with J.A.
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