Overlife - Preview Edition

By Jody Aberdeen

Jacob Ruiz has a unique ability, one that the Risen, the group of humans who have evolved beyond physical death, are interested in exploiting. As the world ticks towards its end in mere days, Jacob finds himself caught between Ethan Lee, an assassin of the Management of the Overlife, and Octavia Wood, a guardian sent to protect him by the rebel Iblis. His fate ultimately rests in the hands of his friend Aelia, whose own unconscious competencies indicate that there is far more to the evolution of the human race than meets the eye.

These are the first eight chapters of Jody Aberdeen's metaphysical thriller "Overlife". The complete novel will be released for sale on January 1st, 2015.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Aug 20, 2014
• ISBN: 9781312448018

Book preview

Overlife - Preview Edition

OVERLIFE (PREVIEW EDITION)

Jody Aberdeen

CHAPTER ONE - THE ANXIETY ATTACK

CHAPTER TWO - LA BRASSERIE DES VOSGES

CHAPTER THREE - THE LITTLE FLAME

CHAPTER FOUR - THE ROOFTOP PALAVER

CHAPTER FIVE - THE STREET URCHIN

CHAPTER SIX - THE TEATIME REVELATION

CHAPTER SEVEN - THE HANGING LANTERN

CHAPTER EIGHT - THE DIRECTOR

CHAPTER ONE - THE ANXIETY ATTACK

Everything was burning.  The air itself burned.  And it had only been minutes, minutes!

Snippets of worldwide agony.  He stumbled into the street along with dozens of others, his whole body alive with an almost exquisite pain.  Bizarre, rhythmic bursts of light that seemed to come from the middle of his brain blinded him every so often, but he caught glimpses.  Some were stripping naked from the heat, to no avail. 

Someone screamed and screamed and then stopped, eyes wide as if in shock and gratitude at the arrival of death, and just dropped to the ground with a meaty thud.  Everything around him was crimson and flashes and pain, pain pain.

Sudden darkness....then nothing.....and then the sensation of gravity, of comfort, of softness..

Rhythmic, rapid-fire beats.  Thup-thup thup-thup thup-thup thup-thup-

***

Jake woke up to find his heart pounding in his throat.

Panicked sensations: the damp of sweat on the small of his back, on his brow.  The room was a bizarre cold, a wintery chill at the dying end of August summer.  What was this?  What was happening?

Jake shot up in bed.  The sheets were heavy with his own moistness where his legs stuck out, the top of the bed still strewn with the odd pair of boxer-briefs or t-shirt.  And now his mouth was dry, his throat raw.

Panic.  Panic.  Panic.

Just a bad dream, right?  Wait.... what was it?  I've forgotten.  So why hasn't it gone away?   What is happening to me?

There was no reason for the panic, so his mind started to find reasons. 

That's what his mind did, this brilliant brain that everyone had praised him for ever since kindergarten. Now every lingering doubt he suppressed during full consciousness lined up a train in his mind, all these things he'd forgotten,  had wanted to forget, now given a soapbox and a megaphone turned up to full blast. 

The Internet business could have made more money. 

You could have paid off your debts months ago. 

You should have been happy with where you were. 

You jumped off the cliff and fell (big surprise!).

You've screwed up your life, and there's no going back. 

Fuck, muttered Jake aloud as he wiped his brow, lifted his t shirt over his back, pulled it over and past his head and tossed it across to the wall.  (You're out of shape).  He put his hand on his chest (Your skin is too dark, no one loves your dark skin) and his heart was still pounding against the skin wall. (What are you doing here?).

Had it been a dream?  Jake couldn't remember.  No, no dream.  Just....panic for no reason.

Fuck....fuck, fuck fuck.....

(You swear too much)

Jake jumped out of bed and walked to the window.  A gray pall had fallen on Waterton this morning (You sleep in too much), making it dark even for ten o'clock.  Cars still rushed below, the lungs of the city breathing in a steady smoggy breath and never quite breathing out. 

Breathe.  Gotta breathe.  Jake closed his eyes .  Count to ten.

One. (in....out)

Two. (in.....out)

Three.....

(No no, you're doing it wrong.  You're doing it all wrong.  Your life is a train wreck, Jake.  Your parents are ashamed of you.  You can never repay what they gave you.  You can never succeed.)

Shut up! he said aloud, but the doubts continued, ceasing to speak to him in words and now transforming themselves into a feeling, a steady shit-stream not unlike the passage of traffic only a few stories below.

Jake paced now.  His hands started trembling, little jitters that erupted into full tremors.  Jake reached for the window still, gripped it as hard as he could. 

I'm charge of my hand.  I control my hand.

One....  He inhaled again, filling every square inch of his lungs with oxygen, stretching out his lung matter like a blanket, pausing at fullness, then releasing once again in a slow breath.

Two....  Jake inhaled.......and exhaled.......

His heart began to slow.  The tremors in his hands stopped. 

Three....

But the emotional shit-stream continued, like ink from a fountain pen shooting into the clear water of his