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Mixer: Feedback Serial Book Three: Feedback Dystopia, #3
Mixer: Feedback Serial Book Three: Feedback Dystopia, #3
Mixer: Feedback Serial Book Three: Feedback Dystopia, #3
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Mixer: Feedback Serial Book Three: Feedback Dystopia, #3

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A Dystopian Future Where Singing Is A Felony And Music Is Banned​

The Safest Place is Not What It Seems

Eric had dreams for himself and the world, but the Nexus and Leonardo forced him into hiding. After a final surface mission, Eric is safe with his family in the Marley, but at a very high cost.

The surface world grows distant, and people begin to heal and accept new roles.

The underwater vessel known as The Marley is a piece to a puzzle, however, and someone is coming to put the pieces together.

Eric's friends and family will face life and death once again. The Nexus will reveal its mysterious leader. And Leonardo's legacy will take form as people react to his disappearance.

Something terrible awaits at the bottom of the ocean.

Reverb is the third of four novella-length episodes in season one of a multi-season, dystopian thriller of politics, hatred, love, bitterness, and warped minds.

If dystopian futures fascinate you, scroll up and grab a copy

Feedback's Most Relevant Categories

* Dystopian New Adult Science Fiction

* Science Fiction Mystery Serial

* Augmented Reality Science Fiction

* Dystopian Futures

* Posthuman Science Fiction

* Post-Nuclear Apocalypse

* YA Dystopian Science Fiction

LanguageEnglish
PublisherShane Hall
Release dateNov 28, 2017
ISBN9781386826569
Mixer: Feedback Serial Book Three: Feedback Dystopia, #3

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    Book preview

    Mixer - Shane Hall

    MIXER

    Episode Three of the Feedback Serial

    Shane Hall

    Editing by Sandy Ngyuen, a Fresh Set of Eyes

    This e‐book copy is for your enjoyment only. Please support the author by purchasing additional copies as needed.

    The Feedback Serial is a bizarre story, and entirely a work of fiction. Any and all similarities to real‐life events, persons, etc. are entirely coincidental and unintentional.

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    Last Time

    Eric, Terry, and the freshly‐revived Clarice fled into the underground tunnels. There, Leonardo managed to reach them once again, pulling them into a strange plan.

    To prove his benevolence in all that was happening, Jack assisted Will and his friends, in return for his corrupt police chief, Monty, being assassinated.

    Leonardo did terrible things to Winona, but Jack made good on his word, leaving Leonardo incapacitated in Nexus custody, and the others safe in Shadow Dock Five.

    To Eric and Terry's regret, Clarice did not live long enough in her second life to see the legendary Marley submersible, where they could all live in peace.

    Jack revealed to Janet that he was both her and Eric's father. Then they were attacked by a strange humanoid, one that nearly bested Jack.

    To make sure Winona never suffered again, Eric deceived her. He let her go into the Marley with Terry, and left with Freyara and Spinmaster, Jack's Unibarian aide.

    The new plan is to grab Eric's mother and sister from the singer camp, and return to the Marley once again with Winona and Terry, if they can.

    Chapter Twenty‐One

    To the Shore

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    The top of the booth seat raised like a coffin lid. Tracy heard what sounded like a crowd outside. She decided it was finally safe to come out of her hiding place.

    She was usually steady on her feet, but the whirlwind of violence had shaken her. I thought we were damn near tumbling down a cliff.

    She grabbed the camper’s dining table with both hands and pulled herself up, leaning on the table for support. Jagged bits of broken ceramic scraped against her shirt.

    The lights were off, but the half‐moon was doing its job. Looking around, Tracy knew exactly what had happened. The Nexus had sent a Sarwing. The ceramic chips and coagulated pink blood everywhere were evidence aplenty. But where are Jack, Janet, and Helen?

    One of the camper’s plastic windows was completely smashed, explaining why it was cold inside. Tracy looked through the opening. She saw the grand mogul’s massive form lying face‐up on the ground. He was surrounded by singers with torches. She pulled out her TCS and called Opal. She only waited a second.

    Opal here. Yes, darling? The regal lady’s voice was crystal‐clear due to her high‐quality communications signal.

    A Sarwing… it attacked them. Tracy was still unnerved and trying to catch her breath. It was trying to get to me… Jack must’ve killed it. The thing’s disgusting pink blood is all over my camper!

    Calm down, dear. So you’re telling me a Sarwing attacked when Jack tried to intercept Janet and Helen?

    Yes. Tracy let out a huge sigh of relief. The question meant Opal believed her. It had no reason to go after the others… only me. I was hiding in a storage compartment and I felt the thing stomping closer, but Jack kept pulling it back. I think Janet and Helen were on top of the compartment and they didn’t realize I was the target. But listen, there’s something else. Janet and Eric are Jack’s kids.

    He admitted it to Janet? Really? He must be changing his plan.

    Wait, you knew?

    To know is to suffer, darling, and I know many things, so don’t be envious. But yes, I know everything about that ape and his family. Where is the grand mogul now?

    Outside. I think he’s unconscious and the singers are wondering what to do with him.

    It would be so easy to influence them, to inflame the situation… said Opal. Do you think you could?

    That wasn’t part of the plan. Tracy slipped out of her wrecked camper into the cover of night. Besides, what if Jack’s forces are on the way?

    It’s like you’re describing the most delicious cherry tart in tantalizing detail, and I can’t eat it. Opal sighed. Do you see Bear?

    Yeah, said Tracy as she watched the singers from behind the camper.

    A dark‐skinned young man wearing a bulky fake bear fur coat was shouting and riling up the crowd.

    It looks like he’s trying to do what you want.

    Good on him. Though, to be honest, I don’t think he’ll succeed. I suppose we should stick to the original plan. Proceed to the next stage.

    Yes ma’am, said Tracy, but Opal had already ended the call.

    scene break

    Many feet were moving to a melody with a rocking, funky horn. The lyrics of the song were in a pre‐war language no one understood, but it didn’t matter. They were in the PY era now—the Peace Years—after the war that almost destroyed the world.

    The dance floor in The Marley’s club was a broad sunken space. It was tiled in luminescent squares that separately changed color with each rhythmic step.

    Some girls were wearing tight chrome dresses, but all the girls were bobbing and swaying left and right, trying to look graceful without spilling their cocktails. Some men were twisting and pointing, as if they were giving sermons.

    Dancing here was a fight for attention. Once someone caught a few eyes, more people turned to watch the spectacle. The dancer would move to the middle of the floor. He or she would be the single focus of attention until another dancer could grab the glory.

    A slightly effeminate man with a shaved head was wearing a wool turtleneck that absorbed the colors of the flashing lights. He arched his back and began stepping closer to the center of the dance floor. His amusing moves were drawing eyes.

    The group ringed him and retreated to the sides of the pit, giving him plenty of space to invent new ways of walking. With all eyes on him, he stood perfectly upright and swished his arms like a flag blowing in a blustery wind. He’d perfectly captured the mood of the bouncy song.

    Some of the onlookers turned and pointed at a new arrival. She was wearing a black tube dress covered by a dirty white apron.

    Is that it? Martha jumped down the glowing golden steps. With her big curves, fiery‐yellow curls, and prominent facial features, she stood out even in the commotion.

    Not even! said the bald man. He pointed at Martha with both hands and stopped, diverting all eyes to her.

    Martha didn’t have the blatant attention‐grabbing techniques he did, but she knew how to use her voluptuous form to entice. Every hip rise on one side was accompanied by a shoulder drop on the other, and the huge smile never left her lips. She moved her pelvis and rib cage in alluring ways as she threw her head back and pointed her face up to the ceiling. The people above the pit—at the bar having a drink or in the booths eating a meal—were also enjoying her performance.

    Everyone began chanting in unison. Mar‐tha! Mar‐tha! Mar‐tha!

    Martha! a female voice shouted across the dance floor.

    Martha whipped around. She would recognize that red cotton dress anywhere.

    Calomé pointed to the double doors with small round windows across the club. I think they’re done.

    Oh shit! Martha gave an embarrassed wave and hurried up the golden steps after Calomé.

    Most people booed lightheartedly with disappointment as Martha and Calomé pushed through the double doors and into the kitchen.

    How long have they been done? Martha’s eyes and ears took a moment to adjust to the quieter, calmer environment.

    I don’t know. Calomé opened the oven door. I just walked in and noticed that the timer was at zero.

    Martha put on her oven mitts and pulled out the dark‐brown treats. She put the tray on the stovetop and a coconut aroma wafted through the ivory‐colored kitchen.

    Martha bent over the tray. They smell delicious… perfect. Just let them cool for a minute. She tossed the oven mitts on the brushed steel counter.

    You’ve gotta pay attention when you’re baking, said Calomé. You’re lucky you didn’t burn them.

    What can I say? I’m drawn out there when Wade picks up a crowd. I guess I’m a jealous bitch.

    Well, now I should have license to say it. Calomé smirked.

    Martha waved a macaroon under Calomé’s nose and held it in front of her lips. Just one little taste?

    I wish I could.

    We have some of that stuff for allergic reactions, said Martha. One jab is all it takes… according to the instructions.

    Yeah, but it also has about a trillion side effects.

    "Those are just possibilities."

    Do you really want me to risk it? Calomé raised her eyebrows.

    You know I’m just kidding. I’ll make you something good later, promise. By the way, I was thinking of taking some macaroons to Terry.

    I think we better not disturb her yet. After everything they’ve been through, she might need some extra time to get used to being here. Don’t worry. You’ll get to meet your precious hero, I promise.

    She’s just so sexy. Martha smiled. When I was a teenager, and all the other girls were into men twice their age… totally creepy… I was going nuts over Terry. I loved watching her win the Decibest competitions. So much poise, so ladylike, and a champion. I love that.

    I don’t need to hear this. Calomé picked up a spatula. I’m taking a few of these to Winona. I need to get a better read on her.

    You think she’s…?

    Spinmaster told me she definitely is. He said they all are.

    It might be a good thing to have more people like us, said Martha.

    Calomé scooped some macaroons into a bag and twirled it around. Oh, it’s getting late. Better calm it down out there.

    You got it, boss.

    As Calomé walked out the double doors, she held the small bag over her shoulder like a sack.

    Martha went to the double doors and peered through a round window. She watched petite, graceful Calomé turn left and head for the guest bedrooms. Poor Calomé can detect emotions like no one’s business, and yet she thinks she can hide her own.

    scene break

    The Marley’s guest quarters were along a spiral. Entering the hallway was like walking into a steel nautilus shell. Calomé robotically waved at the young people she passed as she walked to the two rooms at the end of the hall.

    Certain that no one was watching around the curve, she kept looking behind her before knocking on the last door. A cute, short girl with smooth charcoal hair answered it.

    Hello. Calomé held up the bag of

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