Undertow

By Michael Buckley

Mysterious beings appear on the shores of dystopian Brooklyn in a saga blending action, suspense, and romance, by the author of the Sisters Grimm series.

Sixteen-year-old Lyric Walker’s life is forever changed when she witnesses the arrival of 30,000 Alpha, a five-nation race of ocean-dwelling warriors, on her beach in Coney Island. The world’s initial wonder and awe over the Alpha quickly turns ugly and paranoid and violent, and Lyric’s small town transforms into a military zone with humans on one side and Alpha on the other. 

When Lyric is recruited to help the crown prince, a boy named Fathom, assimilate, she begins to fall for him. But their love is a dangerous one, and there are forces on both sides working to keep them apart. Only, what if the Alpha are not actually the enemy? What if they are in fact humanity’s best chance for survival? 

Because the real enemy is coming. And it’s more terrifying than anything the world has ever seen.

“Overflows with innovative, terrifying monsters—human, emotional and undersea.… Reads like an action movie.”—E. Lockhart, author of We Were Liars

“Crashes over you in waves of emotion, allowing glimpses of family and loyalty, before dragging you into the depths of human prejudice, cultural mistrust, and political corruption.”—A.G. Howard, New York Times–bestselling author of the Splintered series

“A solidly entertaining adventure with the perfect amount of romance and danger…. Buckley has created a phenomenal new heroine. Smart and snarky, with rough edges and a killer fashion sense, Lyric is a girl to be celebrated.”—SLJ, starred review

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: May 5, 2015
• ISBN: 9780544348622

Book preview

Copyright © 2015 by Michael Buckley

All rights reserved. For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to [e-mail] or to Permissions, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company, 3 Park Avenue, 19th Floor, New York, New York 10016.

hmhbooks.com

Cover illustration © 2015 by Shane Rebenschied

Cover design by Lisa Vega

The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:

Buckley, Michael, 1969–

Undertow / Michael Buckley.

pages cm

Summary: A sixteen-year-old girl is caught in an epic clash of civilizations when a society of undersea warriors marches out of the ocean into modern-day Coney Island.

[1. Survival—Fiction. 2. Love—Fiction. 3. Coney Island (New York, N.Y.)—Fiction. 4. Fantasy.]

I. Title.

PZ7.B882323Un 2015

[Fic]—dc23 2014038317

ISBN 978-0-544-34825-7 hardcover

ISBN 978-0-544-81319-9 paperback

eISBN 978-0-544-34862-2

v4.1018

For Howard and Sylvia Johnson,

who invited me into their home on the water

Chapter One

YOU CAN HEAR THEM COMING FROM BLOCKS AWAY, a low thrum like the plucking of a bass string. As they grow closer it becomes a buzz in your inner ear, like hornets building a nest in your brain. By the time they reach your street, when they are right outside your window, the sound is unbearable: a rogue wave of moans and shrieks that rises higher and higher into a great crescendo of terror, the stuff of nightmares. You can’t sleep through it. There is no pillow in the world big enough to block out their howls. Just pull the blankets up over your head and wait for them to pass. They will. They always do.

I am not without fear, but my curiosity gets the best of me every time. I leap from my bed, pull up my blackout blinds, press my face against the windowpane, and squint hard before they melt back into the shadows. Like most nights, I am too late. They’re here and then they’re gone, like lightning bolts stabbing at the flesh of night. The only evidence they were here at all is the ragged wound in the peace and quiet.

But there’s still plenty to see. From not far behind comes a mob of men and boys armed with bats and booze, our neighborhood’s self-appointed guard dogs. They bark threats and give chase. And then, to close the show, here come the police with their lights and squealing squad-car tires. An amplified voice demands that everyone clear the streets, while a helicopter hovers overhead, poking into backyards and abandoned lots with its frantic spotlight. I hear a gunshot. Pop! Then more. Pop! Pop!

It’s after curfew in Coney Island.

You should be asleep, my mother says. She’s a silhouette in the yellow light of the hall. Tomorrow is going to be a crazy day.

They’re on the run tonight, I explain.

She nudges some space next to me at the window and gazes into the now-empty street. Her shoulders and neck muscles tighten into knots. Her breathing is heavy. She uses her thumb to dig into the meat of her palms. I don’t like this version of her—this jittery deer ready to sprint for cover at the slightest sound. I miss my happy mom, my bouncy, flip-flops, cutoff-shorts mom. My Summer Walker, version 1.0.

With a snap the blackout blind comes back down, and she shoos me toward my bed. They’re probably scavenging. How’s your head? she asks.

It’s an F4, but it feels like it’s going to be an F5 soon.

Mom flinches. I have been getting migraines since I was a toddler, and somewhere along the line we started categorizing their shapes and sizes like hurricanes. F1 is the ever-present storm in my gray matter. An F5 is a motherf’r, on-the-floor, curled-up-in-a-ball, puking, sobbing, wanting-to-throw-rocks-at God state of emergency.

You’ve wound yourself up over tomorrow, she scolds.

How can I not wind myself up over tomorrow? I cry.

Why is this place so hot? she says, then rushes out of my room. I follow and find her frantically twisting the knobs on our apartment’s sole air conditioner, a prehistoric, broken-down dinosaur my father purchased before I was born. Each night in the raging, humid heat of Coney Island it clings to life, wheezing out puffs of air one might describe as toasty. Mom pushes something, and the machine breaks into the hacking fit of an old chain smoker. She quickly turns another knob, and it kicks and spits before settling back into its usual fluttering rattle.

We have money for a new one, I say.

That money is for emergencies, she whispers.

Mom, the emergency happened three years—

I’ll run a bath.

I think I just need some—

Boom! The F5 has arrived. The pain is a sucker punch to the temple, an explosion that feels like the plates of my skull have just expanded and then fallen back down into a jumbled mess. Heat spreads across my face, a forest fire in my frontal lobe. It sweeps down my neck and burns down the base of my spine. I fall to my knees, hands on my ears, doing everything I can to not vomit.

Mom, I squeak.

She’s pulling on my arm, trying to get me up on my feet again, but then—boom!—I’m on my back. I can barely remember where I am, who I am.

Don’t panic, Lyric! Just breathe. She crawls onto the floor and wraps herself around me like she’s trying to shield me from hand-grenade shrapnel. Her arms are strong. They whisper and soothe. I am your mother. I will take care of you.

I hate my brain, I whimper through snot and tears.

I know. She repeats it over and over again.

When I can stand, she helps me into the bathroom. I sit on the edge of our claw-foot tub and watch cold water gather around the rusty drain. When it’s full, she helps me out of my clothes and steadies me. Stepping into it is like easing into a cup of frozen yogurt: creamy, cold, comforting. It takes a while to adjust to the temperature, but it’s the only thing that helps. When I can stand it, I nestle down, deep as I can go.

I miss the beach, I say as I close my eyes for a moment, flying off to the shoreline, where she and I would sit for hours as the Atlantic’s roar scared off my pain. It eased the agony without fail, like nature’s morphine, but we’re not allowed to go to the beach anymore, not since they arrived.

I miss it too. Each word is interwoven with guilt. She blames herself for what has happened to our neighborhood—the fighting, the martial law, the hate.

Where’s Dad? I say, hoping he wasn’t one of the cops down in the street.

She dips a washcloth into the water, wrings it out, then lays it over my eyes. At the precinct. Mike wants everyone to go over the plans for tomorrow one more time. There are a lot of moving parts with the FBI and all those soldiers. But they’ll be ready. Don’t be worried.

I’m not, I lie.

Things will get better. You’ll see. Now she’s lying.

I sink down farther, completely submerging myself. It’s down here where I feel most safe, where the headaches retreat, where the roar of the water drowns out the thrum.

Chapter Two

I HEAR HER TAPPING HER FOOT, HER IMPATIENT SIGHS, her orchestra of little noises demanding I start my day, but I refuse to open my eyes. I was up all night with a migraine, an anxious mother, and a father pacing back and forth until he wore a path in the carpet. If I open my eyes, I have to accept that it is Monday morning, the Monday morning all of Coney Island and I have been dreading for months.

Lyric Walker, I know you’re awake. Get your butt out of that bed.

Go away.

I slide farther under my sheet and curl in on myself all roly-poly-like, hoping she will see my resolve and go to school without me. If I can just get small enough, she will have to give up, right?

We’ve got to get you ready, she says as she rips off my cocoon. When I scramble for pillows, she snatches them away too. There’s nowhere to hide, and when she turns off my sound machine and pulls up my blackout blinds, I surrender. I’m going to school.

I hate you, Bex Conrad, I growl.

Blame the Big Guy. He told me to wake you up, she says as she turns her attention to my dresser drawers. She peers inside each one, digging for buried treasures she’s overlooked the hundred or so times she’s already gone through them. Bex covets my clothes—all of them—because, one, I have the best clothes, and two, her mom is a screwup who can’t hold a job and wouldn’t give two thoughts if Bex wore a paper sack to school. Today, however, she’s fierce, wearing a black miniskirt and a Hello Kitty T-shirt that’s easily two sizes too small for her. She’s got on the Mary Janes she swiped from under my bed last month that add a couple of inches to her already tall-ass frame. Her hair is clean and sleek, her makeup sick. Everything about her shouts, Jealous, much? Which means she is not here at this ungodly hour for my clothes.

Tammy let him back in the house?

She shrugs. Tammy is her mother in the loosest form of the word. Him is the devil incarnate—her stepfather, Russell.

What does he have to do before she’s had enough?

I guess something worse than assault and battery, she says flippantly.

I frown. Bex’s problems are hidden by walls made of jokes and smiles. Even after all this time, I am rarely allowed inside.

Bex, I—

She finds a black bangle I bought at a yard sale and slips it onto her wrist. Then she takes a peek in the mirror. This is now mine.

Bex, seriously. Are you okay? Is he still drinking?

Where are all your sexy clothes? You have to look hot.

Bex, don’t change the subject.

We might be on TV.

Bex continues rummaging through my things. She has said all she’s going to on the subject. She’ll share when she’s ready and not a moment sooner.

Let’s skip school, I say.

They’re arresting everyone who tries.

My dad’s a cop.

You think the Big Guy won’t arrest you? She laughs, then opens another drawer. Where are the skirts, Lyric? Where are the tank tops? Are you Amish all of a sudden?

Who cares what we wear? No one is going to notice us. Not today.

Bex stops and stares at me with a mix of horror and bewilderment. They’ll notice us! There will be cameras everywhere, and I guarantee you we will both be on some website like Hot Girls of Fish City dot-com. Unless you try to pull the little-matchstick-girl look again, which I am here to prevent.

I lumber to the window and cringe at what I see below. News trucks are parked up and down my street, each with a massive satellite dish mounted on its roof. Reporters spring from them like jack-in-the-boxes and charge across the road with camera operators in tow. They claim their inch of the sidewalk and prep for their live at the scene reports. There are a few news choppers buzzing around in the sky too. The whole world is looking into our fishbowl today.

Bex abandons my dresser and moves on to my closet, where an enormous overstuffed backpack blocks the door. It’s the kind you take for climbing mountains, and it’s packed tight. When she tries to shove it aside, it topples over, nearly taking her with it.

Will you do something with this, already? It’s always in the way. What the hell is in it?

Just some stuff I’m going to donate to Goodwill, I lie.

Hey! I get first dibs on everything, she says with mock offense. She goes to work on the zipper before I pull it away.

It’s just socks and underwear.

You’re donating used socks and underwear to the poor?

With all the bull I shovel every single day, I should be getting pretty good at it, but I’m a total amateur when I have to lie to Bex. I wish I could tell her the truth about everything, like what is in the backpack, at the very bottom, loaded and ready, just in case. It would be nice to tell someone—I would feel a lot less lonely—but the truths I keep from her, and everyone else, are just too burdensome to share. They’re the kind that stand on your neck and won’t let you up.

That’s gross, Lyric, she says, then shoos the backpack away like it . . . well, like it’s really full of used socks and undies. The closet doors fly open, followed by a symphony of squeals. Inside are thrift-store treasures: artfully ripped jeans, vintage band T-shirts, authentic 1950s housedresses, day-glo bangles, cocktail dresses, big clunky shoes (both awkward and terrible for walking), and dozens of peculiar hats stored in hatboxes. I’ve been collecting it all since I was ten, digging through bins at the Salvation Army and stalking eBay. I had big plans for these clothes, but now my closet is a museum dedicated to a life interrupted. I can’t wear any of it, not if I want to fade into the background of this town. Not that I want to, but it’s safer that way.

Bex, however, refuses to give up on me.

"What says, Look at me? she cries as she sorts through the rack, dragging things out, eyeballing them, then tossing aside what does not meet her approval. Oh, yes, this is the one."

She’s found it. Buried far in the back, as far as I could hide it, is a vintage champagne-colored flapper dress. She holds it up against my body and gasps. It’s beaded and hangs about midthigh on me, shimmering like heat on asphalt. I discovered it buried inside an old chest at an estate sale in Gravesend and guessed it was from the 1920s and probably one of a kind. The owner’s son let me haggle him down to ten dollars just before the vintage-shop vultures swooped through the doors. One of them chased me—literally chased me—down the sidewalk and offered me three hundred bucks for it, but I couldn’t give it up. I was in love. I carried it home like I would a newborn baby, hand washed it, repaired a few loose stitches, and fantasized about the day my body would fit into it. I was going to wear it to school and watch boys fall downstairs when I walked by. I was going to cause a panic in that dress.

This is so inappropriate. Bex giggles and shoves it into my hands. It’s perfect.

A little bit of my heart breaks when I swap it for a pair of black jeans and a Bruce Springsteen T-shirt instead.

TV! Internet! Bex shouts, and yanks the clothes away. This outfit will give birth to a billion mean comments. You’ll become a meme like that bitchy cat. Don’t shake your head at me. I’m serious. When it happens, I will pretend I don’t know you. I’ll be a crappy friend, but I’ll do it. I swear.

I reach for my clothes and she reluctantly hands them back. Her frown shouts, I miss the old Lyric!

I miss her too. I miss the glitter princess and the Sailor Moon wannabe from four years ago. I miss the days when I strutted along the catwalk known as Coney Island, all hair and dangly earrings and clogs like I was fifty feet tall. Now I have to be small. I have to be a mouse. Squeak. Squeak.

There’s a heavy knock on the door, and then it slowly opens. My father peeks in, if a six-foot-six-inch cop can peek in anywhere. He’s a mountain, hands like catcher’s mitts, and shoulders as broad as the Brooklyn Bridge. He’s in his police uniform, black shirt and shorts, sunglasses, and his Easter Island head—always watching, always unamused.

Lyric, I need to speak to you, he says, gesturing out into our tiny living-slash-dining-slash-closet room. I follow and close the door behind me.

I hope I don’t have to tell you how important it is for you to keep your head down today, he lectures in a low voice.

You don’t.

Lyric, don’t give me attitude. This is serious.

Dad, I know, I say, squeezing past him to the kitchen, where there is more room.

Keep your distance. Don’t get involved. Don’t try to be nice. Don’t talk to the new kids. Just go about your business.

I know! I snap. How many times is he going to deliver this lecture?

I need to be sure, he hollers.

My mother enters from her bedroom. Her raven hair is tied up, and her face freshly scrubbed. She looks tired but still beautiful. Don’t fight while Bex is here, she begs us.

Sorry, but I’ve heard this speech a million times.

Cut me a break, Lyric, today of all days, my father whispers.

"Cut me a break. I’m the one who has to go there, I cry, then turn my attention to my mother. Why are you still in your pj’s? You should get dressed."

She lowers her eyes and shifts from one foot to the next. It’s a sad little dance she does when she’s upset.

You’re not coming, I say. I’m crushed and don’t care to hide it.

She inhales deeply and looks at my father I want to, but—

My irritation turns to rage and I roast him with my gaze. Just forget it.

It’s too dangerous, my father explains. There will be police and military everywhere, and then the kids, too. She could be recognized.

Leonard, no one has identified me yet, she says.

The feds tracked almost all your friends down, Summer, and each one of them disappeared, along with their families. It’s just you and Angela Benningford now. We can’t take the risk.

My mother winces like she’s been slapped. Am I going to miss her graduation?

You’re being ridiculous, Summer.

What about when she gets married? she groans.

Summer.

Are you going to let me see my grandchildren? she cries.

My father throws up his hands. You’re not a prisoner here. We can always leave, Summer. If we left, we could have normal lives. I have friends at the blockade who could help us get out even without identification. We could start over in Denver, or—

Shhhh! I point at my bedroom door, quietly dreading that Bex will burst through it with a million questions. It’s a miracle that she hasn’t figured us out yet; the girl who hides in ugly clothes, the mom who never leaves the house, the father who lives on the edge of panic. I wait, but there is no burst, no million questions. She’s probably too busy liberating more of my clothes.

I’m sorry, my father whispers. I saw Terrance Lir last night. He’s escorting the children to school and acting as a spokesperson.

Is Rochelle with him? And Samuel?

My father nods. They’re all back. There are men with them too. They look like Secret Service.

Where have they been? I ask.

My father looks at his feet. There are rumors of prison camps, detention centers, mass graves even, but no one knows for sure. All we know is that most of Mom’s friends have vanished, and if we’re discovered, so will we.

I don’t know, but they look horrible—skinny as sticks and wearing the same clothes they had on the day they disappeared.

Have you spoken to him?

Summer, I can’t! If someone saw us talking, they might make the connection.

But he can tell us about my family, my mother begs.

My father shakes his head. It’s best if we keep our distance, especially you, Lyric. He’s going to be in the school every day. He’s probably going to reach out to you, but you have to avoid him. You can’t let anyone think you know him.

You want me to ignore him? This hurts my heart. Terrance Lir was like an uncle to me when I was little. When he and his family disappeared, we cried for days. I can’t imagine turning my back on him, especially if he’s been suffering.

My mother pulls me into a hug and squeezes like I am never coming home again. Her kiss leaves a wet ring of electricity on my cheek. Be careful, and don’t forget to breathe.

You too.

She smiles at me. It’s a crumpled thing, too small for her face. I remember when it used to shine like a star, fueled by her endless joy, but now it’s running on fumes. She can’t even muster enough power to bring her eyes along for the ride.

My father goes to his room and returns with his gun. While I eat cereal, he checks the clip to see that it’s loaded, reinserts it, and clicks off the safety. He double-checks the charge on his Taser and gives two canisters of pepper spray good shakes before putting them in his pockets. Then he turns to me.

Get Bex. It’s time to go to school.

Chapter Three

AS SOON AS THE ELEVATOR DOORS OPEN, I WISH we had taken the stairs. Mrs. Novakova, short and squat, is lurking inside, like a creepy garden gnome peering out of the brush.

Getting off? I ask.

She frowns and shakes her head. Of course she’s not getting off. How else will she interrogate us? I press the button for the lobby and hold my breath when the doors slide shut.

You take these girls to the school, Leonard? she asks my father in her thick, growly accent. She’s been in our building for fifty years, ever since emigrating from Eastern Europe—maybe Hungary, maybe Russia—I can’t remember. It’s someplace where the neighbors used to spy on one another for the government.

Yes, Mrs. Novakova, my father says as he watches the floor counter blink from four to three to two . . .

Mrs. Novakova’s mouth curls in disapproval, revealing her lipstick-stained teeth. You never catch me near that school today. Mixing with us is wrong, especially the children. They are animals, and filthy, too! Always digging in trash cans, making too many babies, and living in filth. Like gypsies back home. Only good gypsy is dead gypsy. You stay away from them. You get disease. Who knows?

If they had a disease, I think we’d all have it by now, my father says. They’ve been here awhile.

Make no difference! You have crazy cow disease for ten years, then kaput! A man walks around, not even knowing he’s dead. That’s their plan. They spread sick to us, wait for us to die. I try to tell people. No one listens to old woman. Don’t you bring one of them back here!

I won’t, Mrs. Novakova, I say.

Bex looks like she’s going to laugh, until I shoot her a look. Mrs. Novakova is old-school evil who rats on anyone she deems suspicious. Neighbors who have found themselves on her bad side have been dragged out of their beds and questioned by cops and gang members alike. I’ve learned to let every word I say to her roll around in my mouth to dull the sharp edges first.

What are police doing to get rid of them, Leonard? I pay taxes for beach and I’d like to go down and take a walk, she barks. My husband and I spent every Friday night strolling along pier, until the coloreds and the Polacks took over. They bad enough. Now it’s those things.

It takes every ounce of self-restraint for me not to roll my eyes. When her husband was alive, they fought day and night. An hour didn’t go by without her screaming to everyone who would listen about what a disappointment he was, how he had never amounted to anything, how she should have married Pavel, a very well-to-do tailor who had the common courtesy to die young and leave his widow a fortune. Her husband passed away two years ago. He choked on some soup. Really. I mean, who chokes to death on soup? Someone who’s looking for a way out, that’s who.

By the time we reach the lobby, Mrs. Novakova has given us an advanced-placement class on the Chinks, the Spics, the Japs, the Kikes, and the towel heads, all of whom she describes as filthy and up to no good and plotting to kill us all. My father has a patience with her he never has with me. He says Good day, and when the doors slide open he leads us outside.

Someday she’ll die, he promises when she’s out of earshot.

I wouldn’t bet on it, I reply.

Unfortunately, outside it’s even more oppressive than inside. It’s ninety-frickin’-eight degrees with a thousand percent humidity. Welcome to the early morning ugh of Coney Island, a sauna trapped inside an aquarium locked in a carwash next to a water park in hell. I sweat from every pore. My jeans glue themselves to my legs. My bangs drip like I used maple syrup to get just the right look. Awesome. I’m going to look like I swam to school, and because the universe hates me, here come the reporters to show the whole world my shame. They pounce like dogs on a pork chop, running across streets and through front yards, scampering over parked cars and surrounding us with microphones and questions. Their eyes are wide and eager. They flash smiles full of chalk-white teeth. Their spray-on tans have dyed their faces a rusty orange.

Are you students at Hylan High? one of them asks. Her hair is so motionless, it could actually be a helmet. I ignore her just like my father coached me. Keep your head down and they’ll go away. It usually works, but there are hundreds of them blocking the sidewalks and a dozen more racing in our direction. The neighborhood has been swarming with reporters for three years. They have a free pass in and out of the Zone, but I haven’t had to deal with this many in a while. Even my father is thrown.

Can you tell our viewers your names? one of them shouts.

My name is Officer Leonard Walker, he says, stepping between Bex and me and the cameras.

And you’re a dad. Do you feel safe sending your girls to school today?

My father nods. The National Guard, United Nations, U.S. Army, Coast Guard, Homeland Security, and the Sixtieth and Sixty-First Precinct SWAT teams will be on campus to make sure things are safe. The NYPD Anti-Terrorism Division has done a great job as well. The students will have better protection than the president of the United States today.

How do you feel about sending your daughters to school with the—

I think it’s a big step forward for everyone, my father interrupts. He doesn’t believe it, but that’s what the mayor wants all the police to say.

Are you worried about violence?

Not from them. Our neighbors on the beach are pretty relaxed when they are unprovoked, my father says as he continues to push us forward.

Have you heard that Governor Bachman has threatened to block the doors to prevent the new students from entering? another reporter asks.

Then I hope I get to be the one that arrests her, he says.

The reporters laugh and eye their camera operators happily. They’ve got their sound bite, and it looks like I’m going to be on the news after all.

He scowls. "It’s

Reviews for Undertow

[readingbeader · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

What a different take on an invasion story. I think this could be sold as a Romeo and Juliet romance but that's not the focus at all. It's an interesting commentary on racism. I love the friendship between the girls. And it's definitely a series starter, and I'm hooked. Look for these in the library next year.

[trigstarom · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Received via NetGalley from Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Children's Book Group in exchange for an honest and completely unbiased review.

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Girl meets boy, boy is a creature from the deep blue sea. Lyric Walker is your average thirteen year old who lives in Coney Island until one day the world stops being average. In three years the world has been transformed, and our question of what lurks in the deep blue sea are answered. A group of humanoid creatures that call themselves Alphas have appeared on the shore line without any warning. What do the Alphas want, why are they here? Lyric is blackmailed into forming a tentative friendship with an Alpha boy: one who could be her undoing.

Fathom is part of a beta program enforced by a government he doesn't understand or respect. He is forced to live on the shore line like an animal, and is now going to high school with the inferior human children. He faces xenophobia, racism, hate and the power of a single human girl who dares to stand up to him. Can they overcome their differences to become friends or possibly more? Will the secrets that the Alphas are hiding break any peace they have developed with the humans?

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There's a far greater enemy on the horizon, but the only way to win this battle is if humans and Alphas can put aside their differences..
Lyric and Fathom are forced together when the government sets up a new experimental program at local high school. The integration program is meant to indoctrinate young Alphas into the human world, but inevitably it is faced with hate groups, fearful parents, media speculation and a particularly fanatical governor. The school becomes the epicenter of hate, fear and violence fostered from a confrontation between soldiers and the Alphas three years before. The spark for change has been lit and the reader is taken along for the ride.
The Alphas are not sexy, they are not Hollywood material, and they certainly aren't like us. Their society is built on honor and tough love - something that would be necessary if you lived in a turbulent sea infested with creatures that would eat you without a second thought. The Alphas look like sea creatures and have a strange culture fraught with violence. If we were to stumble upon an humanoid race from the sea, we probably wouldn't find them attractive in the standard sense which is why I thoroughly enjoyed Undertow. Alphas are covered in spikes, scales, gills and barnacles. The skin ranges from bronzed to almost transparent with softness we are familiar with to slimy.
Undertow is a thinly veiled look at racism - highlighting the hodgepodge that is Coney Island cultural residents and underlining the depths of human conviction that different is not always welcome. It was fascinating to delve into a world where a new race of humanoids is regulated by the military and feared by the populace purely on the basis of origins and appearance. A young reader learns that although on the outside we look different; the insides are still very much alike.
Lyric was a selfish and often whined when it wasn’t appropriate. She repeatedly complained she was new to the Alpha world, giving off the aura that she wasn’t fully aware of the dangers she faced. Her lack of responsibility for not telling her best friend her secret was selfish, but made her character fit within the context of a teenager in a bad situation. My only reason for not making this a 5 star review is that the word “sick” was overused in the first few sentences, and Lyric repeatedly disrespects Arcades relationship with Fathom.
It will be interesting to see how Arcade and Lyric patch things up in book two, and how some of the larger struggles the characters have faced are rectified. The reader is in for a lot of twists, turns and deviations from the expected which makes this book incredibly hard to put down.
This book would appeal to readers who enjoy young adult romance, paranormal, mystery, action and anyone looking for a break from the ever popular vampire/werewolf/angel fad that has overtake YA Literature these days.

[kmartin802_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

UNDERTOW is book one in a trilogy. Lyric Walker lives in Coney Island which has been invaded by Alpha who came out of the sea. Those who could afford to fled the area. Walls have been built and the Army and National Guard have been mobilized to guard the borders. Lyric's father is a police officer but he isn't why they have stayed. Lyric's mother is an Alpha who was sent secretly to learn about humans. They were abandoned and formed families with humans. Now most of those who didn't abandon their human families when the Alpha arrived have disappeared either into the Alpha world or into internment camps on the human side where they are being experimented on and tortured.Lyric's mother won't flee until she finds out what happened to her family. Lyric and her father won't leave without her. Lyric has learned to keep her head down and blend in. But that isn't going to work for much longer. It has been decided that some Alpha kids are going to go to Lyric's school and Lyric has been chosen to be the buddy of Fathom who is the Alpha crown prince. Tensions are rising both inside the school and outside it. Human protesters who are being incited by radical Governor Bachman are clashing with the Alpha and anyone who is sympathetic to them. The new principal - Doyle - has a plan to defuse the tensions and blackmails Lyric with an offer of identity papers for her mother to go along with it. Lyric and Fathom get to know each other in their forced time together. Despite major cultural differences, Lyric falls for Fathom and he seems to return the feeling. But, talk about a hopeless romance, Lyric will be leaving Coney Island as soon as she can and Fathom already has an Alpha fiance.Only plans are all derailed when Lyric learns that the Alpha on the beach are fleeing from a more terrible enemy and that enemy is on the way. Their scheduled arrival coincides with the Army's decision to force the Alpha to surrender and relocate to camps. Lyric and Fathom are beset on two sides by enemies.This story was filled with action and had a particularly action-filled climax. I liked this one very much and can't wait for book 2 which is coming out in February.

[booksgaloreca · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I wasn't sure what to expect with this book as I don't normally read many young adult books, and haven't read much fantasy lately. I loved it! It is a great story full of adventure, romance and has amazing characters. I was very sad when the book ended and am looking forward to the next one in the series. I received a copy of this book in exchange for an unbiased review.

[libstaff2 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

4.5 StarsA daring Sci-fi YA novel that incorporates what I would describe as a species that's a mixture of aliens and aquatic creatures and, their counterparts, humans. The book illustrates many relevant and timeless themes (fear, bullying, prejudice, tolerance, bravery, family, strength, working together, and sacrifice, just to name a few) in a fluid manner. The characters are intriguing and dynamic as is the plot. The setting's gritty, one part containment camp, and one part urban battlefield. It's sarcastically witty at times and it pulls at your heartstrings in many sections. The writing flows very well. Once I started reading the book, I could not put it down. I read quite a bit of YA and it is refreshing to see something a little bit different. This is apparently a start to a new series and I look forward to the next novel. Recommended for YA readers and sci-fi/supernatural fans.Net Galley Feedback

[debra_armbruster · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

_Undertow_ was a middle of the road kind of read. I didn't love it, I didn't dislike it, it was just sort of...there. On the plus side, I could see this being a book requested by young adult readers. Merfolk come out of the ocean to invade Coney Island. It was cinematic in style, with a seventeen year old heroine, her spunky friend, and a hunky merman prince to lust after. And, mermaids are pretty much the only remaining untapped supernatural critter under-represented in a bevy of YA series. It may just be the next big read.

[acargile-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Undertow by Michael BuckleyI can describe this novel in one work INTENSE! Let me be the first to say that I don't like weird books were there are half human, half animal. I never liked Planet of the Apes or anything like that. Well, now there's this book. The Alpha have arrived on Coney Island. They are, I suppose, kind of half fish-type things and look human enough. They are quite arrogant yet are trying to establish a peaceful relationship with humans. They have a hard time because of their supposed superiority. Lyric and her family have a huge secret and are only trying to fly under the radar until they can get out of the Zone. Most people have left because of the violence. The humans are violent and the Alphas respond, making the Zone very unsafe.When school begins, the government has decided that the Alphas can attend public education. There are mobs and violence as the students are escorted to an unsafe school. Mr. Doyle, the new principal, has a plan to keep the peace. One is that Lyric is to befriend the Prince of the Alphas. There goes her desire to fly below the radar until the family can escape. Other problems include Bex and Shadow, Lyric's friends. Bex is from a violent home and often stays with Lyric and her family to keep away from her step-father. Shadow is in love with Bex but doesn't know what danger she is in. Lyric has a lot to worry about. As the violence and tension mounts, Lyric is thrown into the middle of the battle. In all battles, one must face sacrifices. She wars within herself, thinking, "Being yourself is more important than safety" and the desire to keep her family safe and alive. Because her decisions and actions could bring death, Lyric has difficult choices. If you had to choose, who would you choose to kill or die?There's a really good message in the book that violence is the fault of ALL people. Standing aside, making comments, refusing to help, shoving are all chosen actions that make all people culpable. You'll be on the edge of your seat and then upset when you discover that it's not a stand-alone novel. Yep--you have to wait for book two! I think it'll be worth the wait!

[bonniemarjorie · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

‘All of them were in a state of metamorphosis. Tails became legs. Fins sank into flesh. Gills vanished, causing their owners to choke on their first breaths of air. There were elderly creatures, babies, teenagers, and families, all climbing onto the beach, eyeing us with wide-eyed wonder. At first they numbered in the hundreds, then thousands, until eventually I could no longer see the sand for all the bodies.’Three years ago, a mysterious species of ocean-dwellers emerged from the depths of the sea to take their place on land. Since those three years, the creatures that call themselves the Alpha have set up camp on the beaches of Coney Island leaving the humans in the dark as to their intentions. In an attempt to integrate the Alphas into society and to hopefully suppress the ongoing intolerance they face, the government has negotiated that some of their children attend public schools. Lyric Walker has a secret which has caused her to keep a low profile in an attempt to avoid close scrutiny. The disclosure of this secret could mean her death yet when she’s assigned to personally work with the prince of the Alphas she becomes fearful that her secret won’t be secret for very long.Undertow is strongly reminiscent of one of my favorite movies, District 9, where a race of aliens arrive on Earth in an attempt to find refuge. It’s nothing like you would expect since it focuses less on the invasion itself and more on the prejudices and hatred that this different species faces. The injustices that they suffer. Undertow takes a similar route with these creatures that are immediately forced to undergo an intolerance that no species should ever have to endure. It was also reminiscent of the racial desegregation during the American Civil Rights Movement when black students became allowed to attend “white schools”, just with another species of course. Regardless of who the “foreigner” is though it showcased just how rampant xenophobia can become in our narrow-minded society.‘Its skin is swamp brown and highlighted in eggplant purple; its mouth is a huge gaping hole. Teeth lean in all directions like tombstones in an abandoned cemetery. Its empty eyes are calm and black, offering little evidence of life or intelligence, and a long, wormlike appendage dangles from the top of its head to its bottom lip, ending in a bright, glowing bulb. It grunts and clicks and barks at us.’The most interesting aspect of this tale were the descriptions and detailing of the sea creatures which only added to their alluring mystery. There are various different clans among the Alphas which are basically different forms of the same species and they’re all interesting (and sometimes terrifying) in their own way. The Alphas were fierce and ferocious creatures and the mystery surrounding their appearance on land remains a mystery for the greater part of the novel. That mystery possessed an interesting twist that I thoroughly enjoyed and can’t wait to see how it pans out in the next installment.Undertow is more than some science fiction invasion story. It’s a story about family and honor, of respect and deference. And about overcoming prejudices and not standing for intolerance. Undertow was a most appealing tale and a tenacious start to this trilogy.

[nbmars · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Lyric Walker and her BFF Bex Conrad, both 17, live in a run-down part of Coney Island known as ”The Zone” or “Fish City.” It is an area of two square miles bordering a massive tent city where 30,000 members of the “Alpha” live. The Alpha are a mixed race of powerful people who come from underwater. [So powerful they have to live in a slum? One of the many things that don't make sense.] But now some of them are going to come to the local high school because, isn’t that what aliens or “others” usually do in YA books? There is of course a lot of xenophobia toward the Alpha, but Lyric contends that racial animus isn’t new to the area:"The Chinese hated the Japanese, and the Jamaicans hated the Koreans, and the Mexicans hated the African Americans, and the Russians hated the Orthodox Jews, and the white people hated all of them."[Really? The Jews are a “race” not a religion? And they aren’t white? Interesting view, not heard by me outside of Nazi or alt-right propaganda material. … just sayin]In any event, the integration of Alpha kids into the schools is opposed of course, with a Michele Bachmann clone filling the same role George Wallace did in 1963 when he tried to keep blacks from attending the University of Alabama.But the students manage to get inside, and a new principal, David Doyle, who clearly is not an actual educator but some sort of government enforcer, asks Lyric to be a “guide” to the Alpha prince, Fathom. Gee, I wonder if they will fall into InstaLove….Meanwhile, a lot of rabid and violent protestors commit or attempt to commit acts of violence against the “monsters” (making the usual very obvious point about who the real monsters actually are), and tension increases.On a micro level, tension is also escalating for both Lyric and Bex - Bex has abusive parents, and Lyric has parents with a big secret.Can they overcome their problems peacefully, or will they have to turn into a group of N.E.R.D.S. (National Espionage, Rescue, and Defense Society) - i.e., kids with superpower upgrades. Oh wait, that’s Buckley’s middle grade series. This one has some hot kissing, so it can’t be the same. Nevertheless, the ending is right out of Marvel Comics, or N.E.R.D.S. without its G rating. And like the comics and the N.E.R.D.S. books, this is only the beginning of a series.Discussion: Despite my reservations, the story isn’t all bad - at least the part involving the “humans.” The YA characterizations and angst are well-done. The portions involving the Alpha are a bit over the top, and don’t always make sense. But readers will warm up to Lyric, her family, and her BFF, and the bonds among them. Lyric is also unusually mature for a YA protagonist - another plus.Evaluation: If you like comic-book type action with some YA romance thrown in, this book may have appeal. Judging from the reactions on Goodreads, this book has been very well-received.

[tjsjohanna_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Most paranormal creatures are familiar - elves, ogres, fauns, etc. This series is unique in that the creatures are undersea ones - sirens, for instance. Lyric Walker lives on Coney Island where the coast has been invaded by sea creatures - and she discovers that her mother is actually one of them. Of course there is the cross species discovery of different cultures and the obligatory teen romance - but it is entertaining and a creative setting.

[bdartnall_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Lyric Walker lives with her NY policeman father and beautiful but homebound mother in Brooklyn neighborhood that has seen better days - rundown apts, crime and gangs, groups that roam at night, curfews, shuttered businesses. Story jumps off in only a few pages - the Alpha, a wave of five nations of oceandwelling creatures have recently come to her Coney Is beach; at first America is in awe, but circumstances get ugly fast and paranoid humans and Alpha begin to clash. Lyric's neighborhood is now renamed "the Zone": "two square miles of Coney Is that the military, the government, and police keep under constant surveillance...the neighborhood lost ten thousand residents..the rest are stuck without the money to move on...then there are [Lyric's] parents...they've got their own screwed-up reasons for staying, but hopefully, it won't be for much longer" (21-22). Lyric, her best friend Bex and their friend, Tito Ramirez, nickname Shadow, endure the opening days of their local school, Hylan High, where the gov't is attempting to integrate some of the Alpha children with the local teens. Not only is it a media frenzy, protestors, and menacing "Niners", a gang whose growing ranks believe the Alpha must be removed, and even New York's governor surround the school - every day the students walk the gauntlet to get indoors. But the drama and violence find them inside too, and as the plot ramps up, we readers find out why Lyric is committed to just "laying low", and waiting for her parents to decide to finally leave. But then Principal Doyle asks Lyric to assist the Alpha's prince, Fathom, and between lessons of reading English, and dodging the bullies in her school and neighborhood, she realizes her family's "secret" is not secret to the authorities - and she must comply with their wishes to protect her parents. At times a bit overheated treatment of all the characters, and yeah... unrealistic: day after day of violence even in the classrooms, eventually even a day when a teargas, weapon toting invader slams his way into the school to shoot and kill - yet Hylan High, and the beseiged administrators and teachers have to keep holding school- really? It was hard to suspend disbelief for some of the plot details - and of course the sci-fi premise: ocean creatures who can come out of the water, breathe and move like humans, and then re-enter their waterworld at will...cool idea, with cool weapons on/in their bodies - but with instant English speaking skills? I did pick up on the not so subtle oh so current political subtext: how do we Americans deal with foreigners in our midst? And Buckley knows teen slang, the depth of teen crushes and friendships, and keeps the various plot threads twisting and moving - in fact it quickly gets to cataclymsic proportions, and of course, Lyric's true nature emerges by the last couple chapters, with powers that awe even the Alpha... all in a huge battle that ends with Lyric pushing Bex on a raft through the shoreline's waters, heading south, avoiding US soldiers, determined to find her parents, taken to a camp- yep, another YA apocolyptic/sci-fi/fantasy thriller trilogy...

[edensteffey · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Interesting. I liked it, but wonder if some of the background will be elaborated on in additional books.

[readinggrrl · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is a great set up for this semi-new trilogy. The Alpha come to shore in Coney Island dividing this small community. There are those who don't want anything to do with the "Fish Heads" and an armed and violent group of "red shirts" forms. If you ever wondered how the US got away with interning the Japanese during WWII just read this book. The us vs. them mentality is scary. The Alpha culture is very interesting and very well developed. The American's are either tolerant and welcoming or afraid and join the red shirts who want the Alpha to go back to the sea. However, the Alpha aren't the only "fish" in the sea.I thought this was a fun listen, not sure how reading it would be but I definitely attribute a lot of the flow to the narrator Jennifer Grace whose reading really brought the story to life. I think this would make a great beach listen. Looking out across the ocean wondering if an alien race is going to come walking out of the surf at any time.

[amandacb_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

As a middle school librarian, I always feel compelled to read the Lone Star awarded books, of which Undertow is no exception. I am pretty lenient about content and think most kids can handle, at this age, Hunger Games-type content. However, I do not think Undertow is entirely appropriate for middle school, which have ages ranging from 11 to 14. There is a lot of cussing and even some pretty detailed fooling around sessions between the main character and her boy toy. Onto the story aspect, it was not well-done. The premise is one which makes people sit up straighter and go, "What?! Tell me more." But the execution leaves much to be desired. I didn't care about the characters or their fates; I didn't quite understand the "aliens" themselves. Just not a good choice for the Lone Star list this year, unfortunately!

[thegrandworldofbooks · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I would like to thank Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Children's Book Group and NetGalley for the opportunity to read this book. This book took me awhile to really enjoy. Before about 45% through, I was kind of just reading to read. Once I got to 45%, I was excited to read the book. At no point, though, did I ever consider putting the book down to DNF it. I really enjoyed the concept of this book...a new race comes out of the ocean and has to try and integrate into society. With predictably disastrous results. And yes, this book basically mirrors how things went during desegregation of schools back in the 50's. But, the rest of the book was (to me, anyway) fresh and new. There is going to be at least one more book after this one, and I look forward to it eagerly. I definitely want to know what happens after the finish of this book, so I will be looking for the release of that, whenever that is, since this book just came out. I know this book starts a bit slow, but it is worth it to stick with it, in my opinion. I was not disappointed. I was given a copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. All tthoughts and opinions are my own, and I am never compensated financially for my reviews.