Rogue (The Novi Orders 1)

By Chelsie Shock

The first book in Chelsie Shock's dystopian science fiction series The Novi Orders.

In the future the New World has suffered bombings, world wars, the tectonic plates have shifted, the population has seen sicknesses, radiation spills, genetically modified animals and humans, and the population has dwindled into two classes: The elites and everyone else. The Novi Orders have been enacted by the capital city and control everyone completely, except those who have hidden or rebelled, the rogues. Will is one of the survivors who has lived the quiet life of a sailor and fisherman living on what was once the Washington state coastline. When he meets an old man who used to work as a scientist for the elites, they sail to places he never imagined he’d see... the islands where the elite’s live. He meets a beautiful woman who is part of the high society by marriage, and he is thrust into plans for an uprising, a revolution, murder, war, oppression, survival and entangled in a forbidden love he can’t fully comprehend.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chelsie Shock
• Release date: Jul 13, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311097354

Chelsie Shock

Chelsie Shock was born and raised in rural South Texas on a ranch near the border. As a child she spent her days imagining her own world while she explored nature and tried to avoid cactus and mesquite thorns. Since she could scribble, she wrote stories.She lives in Florida with her husband and their very needy dog who follows her around all day. She has a certificate of Holistic Nutrition Consulting from the American College of Healthcare Sciences.She can be found writing, reading anything by Ray Bradbury, cooking or traveling. She loves cultural foods. One of her favorite vacations was when she hiked Scotland with her husband, and still misses it. She's lived in Texas, Louisiana, and Florida, and she can be found in Michigan a few times a year. She writes science fiction, some fantasy, loves when seasons change, and is interested in anything extraordinary.

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Rogue (The Novi Orders 1)

By Chelsie Shock

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2014 Chelsie Shock

Copyright © 2014 by Chelsie Shock

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author.

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This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Cover art by Matthew Zikry

Edited by AGC Editing and Services

Published by Chelsie Shock

ISBN: 978-1311097354

Rogue

The Novi Orders

Chelsie Shock

MANY COUNTRIES, CITIES and populations were destroyed in the wars and plagues. Novi was the first city built after the destruction and became a beacon of hope for the survivors. In 3070, Novi was named the capitol and ruled across the New World. As time went by the government got stronger, and gained more control over the people. Novi enacted Orders that became like a noose around the necks of the people. The classes were divided. They modified animals and humans for specific purposes. Prison camps were common successfully brainwashing any resistance. Peace officers were brainwashed and trained to keep the people in line. They modified plants and animals so anyone who tried to flee would die from eating out of their boundaries. The only people who escaped without brainwashing are those who stayed silent and obeyed, fleeing the city in silence strategically. Those people would form sub communities, and dream of freedom. Those people were the only hope for the New World; those people were called rogues.

FOR JOHN.

For the rogues among us, freedom is always worth fighting for.

ROGUE:

Someone that is different from others in usually a harmful way, especially in being dangerous or uncontrollable.

Many rogues were like vagabonds, forming a subcommunity on the fringes of official society.

CHAPTER ONE

ON A BLISTERING June morning, a man sat in his sailboat, waiting for a fish to bite. William Gulliver held his cut up and sun-tanned hands on the fishing pole, waiting, and waiting. When he killed the modified fish, he felt a surge of adrenaline. He let the surge befriend him on his long days alone at sea. He had grown to embrace it, desire it, and obsess over it as if somehow it brought vengeance to Marell’s death. The sunlight scorching through the sails, beating down on his shoulders brought him a long lost feeling of warmth. The sailor’s icy eyes cradled tired red veins, as if his desires and loneliness screamed in his ears all night. Drowsy, he let his eyes close as the sun simmered his body tirelessly. Only at sea, he could momentarily forget the nightmarish conditions of the world around him. A strong tug on the line jarred his eyes open, Will’s neck stiffened and without flinching, he jumped up and began reeling fast.

He scanned the water for a glimpse of the fish below. The fish’s sharp fin bobbed out of the water as it began flailing furiously. The blue and orange colors of the fish flashed as it fought against him the more he reeled in. He gritted his teeth as his muscles pulled hard on the fishing line. His knuckles growing white, he grabbed the fishing net beside him, scooping the large fish up into its prison. He carefully reached in the net and grabbed the fish, getting his index finger sliced. Burning crimson spilled down to the wooden deck of the boat, not the first time the deck had seen bloodstains. His finger throbbed and he barely felt it at all, his body rushing to see what kind of fish it was. He grabbed the fish’s body tight so he could get a good look at it as the fish’s blood colored eyes stared up at him. The fish opened its mouth revealing double rows of sharp teeth, and his grip tightened on the fish. It was another government experiment, another genetically modified animal. The smell of the sea clinging in his nostrils and disgust brewing in his chest, he tossed the fish in the cooler to deal with later.

Will’s boat neared the shore of Wimberley Beach, and he tied his boat to the empty dock. Nearby, an old man was fishing on the lonely pier and he checked his clothing for a government’s official sign. He studied the old man, trying to decide if he was a rogue citizen—like himself. He seemed to be merely an old man.

He dropped the sails, looking over the boat out of habit, making certain it was situated. Will scooped the colorful fish out of the cooler and set it under the net on the wooden beams of the pier, watching the fish flip around; its mouth heaving up and down in confusion. It lay still peering through the net that had become its prison, and finally it lay quiet. Death was a familiar shadow lurking around him since he was a boy—it was the endless chill of an October wind. Picking up the lifeless fish, he began walking down the pier, the creature dripping blood from his hand.

Nearing the old man fishing on the pier, he kept his eyes fixed on him. The old man was looking at Will now, his eyes were magnified under his thick glasses, making it seem like he scrutinized everything he looked at from under them.

What kind of fish have you just killed? the old man shouted over.

Who are you? Do you work for them? Will asked.

No! the old man’s surprise erupted from his throat.

Are you sure about that? Will walked closer to him with heavy feet and a trail of blood following him.

I’m not one of them. I’m doing exactly what you are—I can’t find a blasted fish to eat that isn’t genetically modified!

Will was standing in front of him now, studying his clothing. His cold eyes moved from the old man’s boat shoes up to his shaky hands on the fishing pole.

What kind of fish is that? the old man repeated, softer this time.

I don’t know what the hell it is. He replied, holding the fish up higher.

Onakus ichthyoid. The old man adjusted his glasses as he looked at it.

Who are you? Will stepped back from the old man.

I kill those fish too. They kill the fish we eat. Sit with me for a minute. The old man moved his body down to the wooden beams and cast his line out in the water. Looking up at Will now, his grey hair tangling as the breeze picked up. He looked more vulnerable as he adjusted his crackling bones.

Will hesitantly sat beside him.

I used to work for them. The old man nodded as if he had just remembered to mention that.

Oh. Did you? Will’s thin lips creased under his scruff and his eyebrows furrowed with concern.

A long time ago, the old man added quickly. The old man looked down at the silent fish under the net sitting beside Will. He brought his eyes back up to Will’s face and noticed his sharp lines and rough gaze.

Who are you then? Will asked again.

My name is Mr. Cleary. I’m a rogue now, just like you. I could tell by the way you carried yourself that you were.

Will was still hesitant, and he grabbed a cigarette from his pocket. He began rolling the cigarette around in his fingers as if his judgment about the old man changed his motives into real or imagined. He let the cigarette come up to his lips finally, and with a flick of his lighter, he inhaled deeply. He let the smoke hover around him as he waited for a longer explanation from the old man.

The old man’s eyes gazed across the water and his hand shook the fishing pole. Ten years ago, I left the National Science Facilities. I never looked back. I saw things going farther downhill and I didn’t want to be a part of it anymore. I left just before the first bombings. He relaxed a little now. These fish kill the fish we eat. What was wrong with the fish God created? Were they not damned good enough? He scowled.

Will’s face loosened. I’ve never seen you around here. Seems suspicious to me.

I usually fish at Freepoint docks south of here. It’s closer to where I live, but I haven’t caught any normal fish in days now and my stock is getting low. The old man’s shoulders hunched over. There was something about the old man’s mannerisms; half defeated and half spirited. His voice could conquer the world, and his body was a skittish cat quivering and slinking around. It forced Will to calculate every move he made.

And I am William. William Gulliver, he took another drag of his cigarette and his greasy hair fell over his eyes.

You’ll see that I’m a rogue too, you can trust me. Can I see that fish? He pointed his wrinkled finger towards the lifeless fish next to Will.

Will’s hand had stopped bleeding now, and had a mixture of dried blood that was his own and the fish’s. He grabbed the heavy lifeless fish and handed it to the old man. The old man adjusted his glasses and held the fish up to the sun, examining it.

Blood eyes, sharp teeth, blue, and orange. Everything about this animal is so damned unnatural, I tell you. I call these fish sharpies.

Will let out a chuckle and smoke blew out of his teeth and nostrils. Sharpie? That’s so original Mr. Cleary!

I never claimed to be creative. I doubt my right brain works anymore after being a scientist for so long. I was always a scientist. All this serious conversation, what do you say you come over for some lunch?

Will looked over the old man’s face, lines of age rippled across his forehead, and he searched his eyes for something, anything. The old man’s dark green eyes were scanning up ahead, where the ocean met the sky. William’s eyes moved down to his worn leather boat shoes that were similar to his own. Will thought. For a man in these times to offer food when food was such an uncertainty was a big presentment. It was wise to have allies when the harsh winter came and froze everything over like an ice queen, choking all of the life around her. Was he crazy though? Was he just a lonely old man?

Ah, what the hell. Will smiled.

They walked down the pier together and neared an old golf cart parked up the hill in the grass. Will let his eyes move back at his sailboat on the water for one last look over.

Ever gotten this thing stuck in the sand? Will asked as they approached the old golf cart.

Yeah! Back when my wife was here, I did once, only once because she yelled at me for an hour as I tried to get it out!

They jumped into the golf cart and the old man stepped on the pedal. The golf cart moving at a steady pace through the trees carrying the two men, they sat quietly. Salt and the smell of pines swiftly ran across Will’s cheeks. He watched the trees go by him, he closed his eyes. The forest was a place where your heart could grow back from the pain it had endured for many years. A place where your thoughts could roam unchained, and you could regain your footing in the adversity called life. They approached a small log cabin amongst the trees, and they pulled up to it. Will studied the house, it was lonely and unassuming. Stepping onto the porch, he looked down, his boat shoes bloody and the dampness creeping around his feet. He crouched down and untied them, sitting them down on the sunny part of the porch. The old man did the same; he took off his shoes like a ritual, placing them beside Will’s shoes.

If my May could see me now, how properly she’s trained me. The old man muttered with a hearty chuckle.

Come on in friend, any rogue I meet has a welcome place here. The old man bellowed as he swung open the door.

Will stepped into the house, the sounds of crows rung from the trees and followed them through the door. The wind from the open windows twisted its way through the kitchen.

I have a pot of coffee brewing, and there is a stew on the stovetop. The old man pointed towards the kitchen.

Will took a seat as the old man poured two mugs of coffee and placed them both on the table.

Tell me, Will, what was your profession? the old man asked, sitting down.

I’ve been a fisherman for years now, but I used to work in the city.

The old man’s eyes were inquisitive, What happened?

Will blew on the hot coffee, One day I woke up and said to hell with it. Booze and lonely bars were nice for a few years.

But why leave the city with a good job? The old man asked.

Any job in the city was a good job after the Novi Orders were enacted. Will looked down at his scarred hands, and folded them together in thought. He paused and reluctantly replied, Fulfillment, Mr. Cleary. Emptiness. I looked around one day and I saw everyone brushing past each other on the streets, just as miserable as the person next to them. Just as miserable as me. I had it all; a condo on the twenty-second floor, beautiful women knocking at my door. It was what I thought I always wanted.

The old man stood up making his way to the kitchen nearby he poured two bowls of stew.

Were you in the capital Novi? the old man asked from the kitchen.

No. I lived in Everett. Will replied, taking a sip of his coffee.

Well, William, I’m happy you decided to have lunch with a lonely old man today, the old man said over his shoulder.

He walked back over to the table and handed the bowl to Will, settling back into his chair.

Thanks, Will said.

The old man smiled, Maybe we can learn something from each other, you’re a lover of the sea, like myself. I never believed in accidents in meeting.

Will took a bite of the warm stew. He never realized how hungry he was until he was eating, he’d gotten used to the pangs of hunger for so long.

The old man looked up from his bowl, I hope you don’t mind my curiosity, I haven’t seen anyone new at those docks for years.

Will’s hesitance about the old man rested firmly inside of him, he had been slower to trust since Marell’s death.

Will took another bite and reluctantly asked, What’s the story about you working at the National Science Facilities?

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