Glitch Society, Ignorance Is Glitch: Glitch Society, #1

By Anna Travis

An unlucky girl. A secret society. Can her mother be rescued?

 

Mallory Stone is frustrated. After four years of living on the road, the young travel blogger is annoyed that her mom still won't let her show their faces on the internet. But Mallory discovers there is more to her bad luck with computers than she thought when she accidentally uploads the wrong photo and her mother goes missing.

 

Struggling to figure out who she can trust, Mallory runs from a peculiar group claiming they can help her find her mother. But when she is caught and the Glitch Society insists Mallory is connected to an unusual blindness spreading in a nearby town, she fears she's in over her head.

 

Can Mallory unravel the mystery in town and earn her place among the Glitches, or will her mom be lost forever?

 

Ignorance Is Glitch is the first episode in The Glitch Society Christian fantasy series. If you like quests for fantastic relics and characters who stick together through thick and thin, then you'll love Anna Travis's quick and clean adventure. Buy Ignorance is Glitch to go down the rabbit hole today!

Publisher's Note: While Glitch Society has adventure, suspense, chase scenes and characters in tough scrapes, there is no swearing or sex.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anna Travis
• Release date: Oct 19, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223919988

Book preview

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Copyright © 2023 by Anna Travis.

All rights reserved.

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, historical figures, or actual places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

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1

A hand shook Mallory’s shoulder.

Mallory, honey? You fell asleep on the laptop.

Mallory jolted upright to find her mom grinning at her.

Aw, man! Mallory gasped. She pressed a hand to her face and felt lines from the keyboard. There was drool on the computer. She wiped at her chin and repressed a groan. Great.

The laptop was glitchy enough already. Drooling on it was not going to help.

The kettle whistled, and Natalie Stone shook her head at her daughter. She reached over and pulled the kettle off the tiny stove, and Mallory let out a sigh. Her mother’s soft brown hair was pulled back in a loose braid, without a hint of gray yet. Natalie Stone was grace and poise, even first thing in the morning. She made everything look easy, whereas Mallory was, well, Mallory.

Mallory tugged on a loose stand of her brown hair. She glanced at a birthday card stuck to the mini-fridge, the giant number twenty printed in loopy letters that practically laughed back at her. Mallory had thought turning twenty would make life easier and that things would magically fall into place. They had upgraded her laptop, but it was just as glitchy as the last one, which was frustrating because she needed it to run their travel blog.

She tapped at the computer, as if to bring it to life faster, but it hummed back in annoyance and continued to take its time waking up. Mal rubbed at her face again and twisted to look around the skoolie. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, lighting up the apple green interior of their converted bus. Outside, the dog at the next campsite started barking at nothing. As always.

Mallory cringed, but her mom plunked a couple of tea bags into two mugs, ignoring the dog.

Were you trying to update the blog with wet hair again? Natalie asked, smirking.

Come on, Mom, Mallory groaned. You know it’s got nothing to do with my hair. Stupid. Bad. Luck.

Her mother arched an eyebrow.

Fine! Mallory grumbled. "Yes, my hair was wet! But my hair didn’t fritz out the Cloud. That’s the whole point of the Cloud! Oh! Good, it’s working again!"

The screen flashed to life. A happy little box hovered over the webpage, announcing that her changes had been published. Not good. Her face must have hit publish.

Mallory clicked the X and made the little Congratulations! box go away. She wished there was a button that would do the same for the Peterson’s dog.

I’m sure the computer’s fine, Mallory, Natalie said. She pulled out honey and coconut cream and grabbed a spoon.

Er, Mom— Mallory began, then bit her lip.

Yes?

This was driving me nuts last night, Mallory said, turning the laptop for her mom to see. I was putting up that post about North Carolina ice cream shops, and I clicked on the wrong image. I tried to reload it, but it was taking forever—

And you fell asleep on the keyboard. Natalie peered at the screen. Her lips pressed together, nervous.

Mallory tapped her fingers together. She should never have said anything. It really wasn’t a big deal. It was just a picture of her mother laughing outside a small town ice cream shop. She should have just taken it down and replaced it with the one of her mom’s silhouette. The one she was supposed to use.

Her mom turned back to the mugs. She fixed her smile in place and stirred honey and cream into their tea.

That wretched dog kept yipping outside, and Mallory’s shoulders crept up, tense. She tapped at the keys, trying to decide if she was more annoyed with the computer or her mother. Her parents had always been private people, but her mom had taken it to the extreme after her dad died. Just how were they supposed to make a living off a travel blog when her mom never let her show their faces online?

Mallory swallowed and tapped her fingers on her leg. Sure, there were crazies out there, but Natalie Stone was so pretty that Mallory was certain the blog would really take off if her mom would let her put up actual pictures once in a while.

Mallory was about to bring up the old argument again, but her mom handed her a mug of tea, and despite her placid smile, her hands were shaking. The words died in Mallory’s mouth.

Don’t worry, Mom, Mallory said, pointing at the screen. "I’ll get it down in a jiff… It’s really just one picture, right? Well, drat…" She tapped her mug. It says the site’s down for maintenance for the next two hours.

Her mother reached over and closed the laptop. It’s okay, Mallory. We’ll get it fixed. Maybe you should go for a run and clear your head?

Mallory sipped at her tea, then winced at the high pitch bark coming through the thin layer of trees dividing the campsites.

Yeah. That sounds good, Mallory said. I could use a break from Sparky over there.

She set down her mug and headed for the back of the bus to change into her running gear. A few minutes later, her laces tied snug, Mallory headed back to the kitchen area and picked up her tea.

I asked the rangers about the barking, Natalie said, her peaceful nature coming back. But I guess the Petersons are pretty big tippers. Nobody’s kicking them or the dog out anytime soon. So I was thinking… It might be warm enough to make the trip up to Prince Edward Island now, you know? If you want to—

"Really? Anne of Green Gables, here we come!" Mallory shrieked, jumping up and spilling tea. By some miracle, it missed the laptop, and she snatched up a towel.

I take it that’s a yes? her mom laughed, taking the towel from Mallory. I’ll clean up the mess. You run past the ranger’s station and let them know we’re checking out. We can pack up and get on the road right after you fix that post.

Right! Okay! Mallory answered, shouting as the Peterson’s dog attempted to drown out her answer. She pecked her mom on the cheek, dashed down the steps, and headed for the trail to the closest ranger station.

She reached the next campsite, and the Peterson’s yappy dog bolted to the end of its cable, barking furiously. Even with the barking, Mallory heard an odd hum in the air and she stopped to look around. For a moment, she wondered what the noise was. The little dog spun in angry circles, barking like crazy, and Mallory decided it was just the Peterson’s TV, cranked all the way up.

The trailhead to the ranger’s station started on the other side of the Peterson’s campsite, and the little dog lunged towards Mallory, dragging its cable as close as it could get to her. It barked again and again, and the hair on the back of Mallory’s neck stood on end. She stopped at the edge of woods, suddenly feeling paranoid.

The little dog yapped on and on, and Mallory turned to look at it. Her stomach knotted as he circled the RV, no longer barking at her. It was barking at the woods behind her bus.

Someone in the Peterson’s RV banged on a window, making Mallory jump. The dog stopped barking. It snarled at Mallory.

If there was a bear out there, you’d keep barking, right? Mallory said, pointing at the trailhead. Her charm bracelet jangled softly, catching the dog’s attention again. The mutt snarled at her again.

Mallory shook off her paranoia. "I am not gonna miss you," she said, smirking at the world’s-most-annoying-dog.

The dog growled again, then turned and ran to hide under its RV.

Mallory glanced over at her campsite. Her mother was opening the curtains of the many, many windows of their sky blue skoolie. Her mom waved, and Mallory waved back.

She started down the steep hill at a light pace. The trail was thick with pine needles, and it dropped so quickly that she immediately lost sight of the campsites. Cool morning air filled her lungs. Running in the woods lifted her spirits like nothing else, and Mallory began to relax.

Her mom had taken the blog mistake well, which was a good sign. The laptop would be fine. And, regardless of what her mother said, Mallory’s wet hair had nothing to do with her glitchy computer.

The updates would be done shortly, and she’d replace the picture when she got back from the ranger’s station. Soon they’d be driving north, singing cheesy road songs at the top of their lungs.

Maybe her mom would see that the picture hadn’t been a big deal, and she could bring up the idea of using some actual photos.

Her legs warmed up, and Mallory went a little faster, her shoes crunching along the trail. She took a deep breath of the pine-scented air and smiled to herself. Today was going to be great.

2

Mallory finished her run and trudged upward, slowing to a walk as she approached the end of the trail. When she reached the top of the hill, the Petersons’ dog barked at her and lunged to the end of its cable. Their TV was blaring so loudly she could hear a reporter interviewing someone through the thin walls of the RV. Some billionaire named Leo Valdis droned on and on about his latest project to deliver malaria medication to remote patients.

Ignoring the TV and the yelping dog, Mallory headed toward her skoolie. She stopped at the edge of their campsite, her smile fading. Something was wrong. The windows and curtains were closed again, and she could make out two figures moving inside.

Neither looked like her mom.

Mallory tiptoed up to the bus to listen. Men’s voices drifted through the glass, and Mallory swallowed at the sudden knot in her throat. She crept closer to the open door, and what she heard made her heart skip a beat.

Somebody got here first, Bernard, a man said. His voice sounded younger, but tense, almost harsh. Any idea what they were looking for?

Mallory’s heart pounded in her ears. Someone else had been here? Maybe the men on the bus were cops. Maybe her mom was sitting at the table, answering questions.

Mallory nodded to herself. She took a deep breath, then climbed the bus steps.

It was a mistake.

She sucked in a breath, her head spinning. Their cozy little home was trashed. The cabinets were open. Every drawer was dumped out on the floor. Even the cushions had been ripped open. The little retro fridge hung open, its contents strewn about the floor. Somebody had poured out the orange juice, and they hadn’t bothered to do it over the sink.

There were two men on the bus, and both turned to stare at Mallory. Her heart sank. Her mother was nowhere to be seen, and these men were not dressed like cops.

Both wore old-fashioned suits. The older man, Bernard, looked about five foot ten, and his girth filled up the kitchen area, as if a well-dressed grizzly bear had gotten stuck in the bus. He had dark skin and short hair that was just beginning to gray. A dark brown cravat was tied around his neck, making him look as if he’d been on his way to some kind