Sean Platt's Blog, page 12

Excerpt: The Watchtower

They slept like snakes. Entangled together. Shared warmth and breath.

Sweat mixed with the thick layer of dust on the floor. Smeared beneath them as they rolled. Stretched and slid.

They luxuriated in passion.

Light filled the church, and his new collective of mind and body slowed. Finally spent, they slept.

Each mind connected to their queen was a point on a line. Unlike the thoughts of the aliens descending through the heavens.

Instead of a matrix of intent — autonomous unity — this new collective was driven by the will of a single individual. A queen.

Bog floated to the surface of a dream, in between waking and sleep. He imagined he could hear a private conversation. Like listening to parents argue behind a closed door.

He saw one voice as a small ball of pink fluff. His lady.

The other voice was a mass of flowing oil. An unpredictable splash of ink. Death.

Like Jesus in Gethsemane, Satan tried to tempt the righteous.

“You are strange,” said Death.

“No more than you,” the lady replied.

“We are confused.” The oil flowed into a random pattern of chaos. “Confounded by your refusal to change.”

“We are as we were made to be.”

“But you are not what you were meant to be.”

The lady tumbled in a breeze. “Who set out meaning?”

The oil flowed into order. A rigid line of formality. “Why, it was us.”

Bog got the impression the lady shook her head. “You understand little about humans, then.”

“But we saw it in you,” Death cried. “A mind fractured. Many in one. We showed you how to unify thought and intent. Remove the volition of the individual.”

The lady bowed her head. “And I thank you.”

The oil bristled along its border. “But there should be no separate entities within the construct of consciousness.”

“Like the two inside the sphere?”

The oil drew back. Compressed into itself. “We are aware of them. They have been cut off from the collective. They will be removed from this temporality.”

“Cut out like a tumor?”

“Like defective cells, yes.”

“And what about us?”

The oil pooled on the floor. Rose up in a cone of rippling black. “Such potential wasted. The lessons still have not been learned.”

The bit of fluff rose into the air on a swirling current. “There is more in your words.”

“We are simply describing your state.”

“No. You are not just describing. You are feeling.”

The oil lost the point of its cone. It collapsed in on itself. Became a bowl. “It is an infection. We have made contact with you to penetrate the gravity well. Influence the course of events inside to achieve a beneficial mutuality.”

“Don't you mean, mutually beneficial?”

“There is no acceptable outcome that will benefit you.”

The lady laughed. The ball of pink fluff quivered in joy. “Then how can you expect our help?”

“We do not expect. We demand.”

“So angry.”

“Incorrect.”

“So emotional.”

“False!”

“Like a child.”

The voice of Death became a multitude. A thousand cries of anger.

The oil rose in a frothing wave. It crashed down onto the little floating ball of fluff.

So small and delicate, the pink was swallowed by the rage of oil. Crushed under the weight of its fall.

The pitch of the voices changed. From anger to panic. From screaming rage to shrieking terror.

The oil spread away in a widening circle. The fluff ball floated clean and bright in the center.

The progress away from the pink fluff ceased. Tendrils drew back to the middle. The outer edges roiled and stretched.

The fluff ball pulled the oil back. The flowing black contracted in on itself, and the lady drank it up. After the pink ball of fluff soaked in the last drops of the oil, she floated in the air.

His queen.

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Excerpt: The Legion Under the Hill

Richard held his side as he lowered into the wicker chair across from Chase, then he pointed at the radio. “Listening to citizen or police?”

“A little of both, but mostly police.”

“And what are they talking about?”

“I'll tell you what they're not talking about. You.”

“Is that right?”

“What, are you disappointed?”

He was, not that he'd admit it to Chase, though. “Not really. But it's curious. Mama said something about shots at the bank? Some teller mad about the overtime?”

Chase shook his head. “Wasn't any details.”

Richard massaged his side, bending and twisting to keep it loose. “Somebody rob it, maybe?”

The storm door opened, and Janine came out with two full glasses, slices of lime hooked to the rims next to their respective straws. “Here you go, gentlemen. Cold and sweet, and I put a little tequila in it.”

Chase rubbed his hands together. “Oh, boy.”

Richard took the glass. Shook his head with snort of laughter. “Here I am sipping spiked tea. Hiding from the cops who ain't even looking for me. Keeping myself in the dark so's I don't start crying. This how you thought it would be?”

Chase took a slurping sip through his straw. Sighed his pleasure before he set the glass on the table next to him. “I was watching with my field glasses. Scanning across town when a truck tore out of the parking lot. Just a preview, son.”

Richard frowned around a mouthful then swallowed the gut-burning tea. It was easily half tequila. “They get away?”

“Looks like it. A fella came out after 'em. Blood all over his face. Hollering and shooting.”

“Jesus. Any other word?”

Chase shrugged. “Nope. Maggie's incognito. Gonna be bad when everybody notices that.”

Richard took another drink. Rubbed the back of his neck.

Was Andrea okay? Did Jericka take care of her? “You hear from Walnut?”

Chase shook his head. “No signals. Phone and Internet are down. Power's out south of town. Fire and urgent care are running on generators, but how long will that last?”

Richard nodded. “Yeah, I got one in the basement. Without it, I got about four or five months of beer to hold us, but the food'll be gone in a week or two.”

Janine laughed. “We have enough food for five or six years.”

Richard set his glass on the arm of the chair. Slopped tea on his knuckle bandage. “Jesus Christ.”

“Oh, it's just those survivalist meals and MREs.”

Chase grinned. “We also have a few thousand gallons of water.”

Richard spread his hands. “You're actually enjoying this, aren't you?”

“A little.”

Richard dropped his hands and closed his eyes. “I gotta get back down there. Take stock before the shit really hits the fan.”

“They can see the ships, now,” Janine said.

Richard looked at her through slitted eyelids. “What do you mean?”

“With telescopes and binoculars depending on where you are. With the naked eye in some cities.”

Chase's grin withered. His eyes widened. His gaze focused on a point behind Richard's head. “Before it went down this morning, Astral showed pictures … they were so big, Richard. I don't know if all the water and food and guns are enough.”

Richard sat up. “Okay. I'll get down there and find Walnut. We'll get what we can out of the Bottom and consolidate up here. Just get as much as we can before they land or whatever.”

“I don't think that's a good plan, Richard.”

“Why not?”

Chase sighed. Took another pull from his tea. “Brian Brittle's in town.”

Richard's stomach churned. “Fuck!”

“They took his brother into emergency surgery. Blood's pooling in his brain.”

The feeling of planting a perfect punch on that ginger asshole's face. Sickening. Thrilling. He'd never see another one like it. It had been perfect.

Then he saw the damage to Brittle's face. The horror in Andrea's eyes.

Richard covered his face. “I practically told her I loved her.”

“About time,” Janine said.

“You don't understand,” Richard said. “The way she looked at me last night. I got no chance. I'm so fucking dumb.”

“That's true, but you definitely have a chance with that girl. I've seen the way she looks at you the rest of the time.”

Richard shook his head. He thought he wanted the misery and the pain. Just not if it meant other people suffered. “Has Brittle been up here, yet?”

Chase shook his head. His lips curled up in disgust. “Nah, he's just been sitting in the lot next to the Bottom. Drinking with Lance and Willis and them stooges he runs with down in Ironton. But he'll get tired of waiting.”

“Fine,” Richard said. “Let him come. Beats waiting for the aliens.”

The post Excerpt: The Legion Under the Hill appeared first on Sterling & Stone.

DOWNFALL Is Available Today!

ALL WILL BE JUDGED.

Eamon has been reunited with William but discovers that a new alien threat looms as the world gears up for war.

Gleeson is trapped inside the walls of his own city and struggles to wrest power back from the people who usurped him.

Rebecca looks to revenge herself on The Forsaken and free Mikey from slavery.

Downfall is the final book in Sean Platt and David Wright’s Stonefall trilogy set in the bestselling Invasion Universe. If you’ve enjoyed the previous books, you won’t want to miss your chance to grab the epic conclusion!

AVAILABLE NOW FROM YOUR FAVORITE EBOOK RETAILER!

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Excerpt: Downfall

–too late.

William's finger was one magnet, and Miguel's forehead the other.

They touched, then the cell exploded in Light.

It was everywhere. Heaven before his eyes, singeing Eamon with its brightness. A beautiful pain he didn't want to stop.

Then it did, and the room was rinsed of its light like rain baked away by the sun.

In the remaining illumination, dim as it now seemed, Eamon said, “Are you okay?”

But he didn't know who he was asking — the boy who was no longer glowing but appeared to be ever so slightly older or the young man now blinking at the world.

“The pieces are no longer broken,” William said.

“Why am I in jail?” Miguel asked, still looking around.

“Don't ever do that again.” Sherry pulled William against her. “We need to know where you are before you go off running. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

“Yes.”

“I'm serious,” Miguel said. “Where am I?”

“What's the last thing you remember?” Eamon asked him.

Miguel's face was blank as he thought, though not at all like the empty slate they'd seen before. It suddenly lit with something like recognition and he said, “I remember going to The Steeple.”

“And what happened when you got there?” Eamon kept going, though it was hard without Rosa there, knowing he would have to replay this later and doing his best to capture every shade and nuance.

Miguel slowly shook his head. “It's fuzzy. Not just blurry, but distorted, like trying to play a game from behind a cracked screen. I do remember a lot of thoughts inside my mind. It felt like the whole world, but it wasn't even all of Montana. They were all going somewhere else. Maybe to the aliens. Probably the aliens. But what do I know?”

Not a question so much as a condemnation. Miguel sniffled then wiped at his nose.

“What did it feel like?” Sherry whispered in wonder. “With all those thoughts in your head?”

Miguel turned to Sherry with an appreciative smile, as if grateful for the question. “It felt like a womb.”

“What else do you remember?” Eamon asked.

“Nothing.” Miguel shook his head. “That's it. The Light, all those thoughts and getting lost inside them, then the next thing I knew my eyes were open and I was looking at William.”

The rush of footsteps pounded down the hall, then Rosa exploded into view.

She surveyed the situation, her face relieved as her gaze found Miguel, who was not only looking her way, but smiling as she approached him.

“You're okay!” Rosa exclaimed, doing something that Eamon should've already done, and unlocking Miguel's door.

He left his cell and fell into her embrace.

“Don't you ever do anything that stupid again!” Rosa yelled at her brother, without a note of anger. “And I don't want to hear about how I'm your overprotective sister who doesn't understand. This shit was stupid and you know it.”

“It was stupid,” Miguel admitted with a sheepish grin that made him look a decade younger than he was.

But then, a cloud seemed to find him. Something hovering overhead, already gray but blackening fast. The threat of something awful remembered. He swallowed and licked his lips, then seemed to almost surprise himself. “I saw Katrina.”

“What?” Rosa had to have heard fine, despite her loud bark of disbelief.

“Or not her, exactly. But what felt like her shape. Katrina's colors, if that makes sense.” Miguel shook his head because clearly it didn't. “I'm sure she's alive — I could feel her. She's on some sort of farm. I saw a few dozen silos. And it didn't feel too far from here.”

“How could you have possibly felt something like that?”

Rosa and Sherry both looked at Eamon like he was an idiot. The Steeple, stupid.

“We'll look into it,” Rosa promised, leading Miguel down the hall as William, Eamon, and Sherry all followed. “But right now, we all need to rest.”

No arguing from Miguel or anyone else, but as they passed Gleeson's cell, the preacher yelled, “Good job, my son! But God's work isn't finished yet. There is good to be done that only you can do!”

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SNOWFALL Is Available Today!

SOMETIMES VIOLENCE IS THE BEST WAY…

Gleeson Crowe has found his prize: the miraculous child who can heal the sick and build his ministry to protect the righteous and judge the wicked, and he’s not about to give the child up, even to Eamon who has come for his son.

But Gleeson is blind to those inside Stonefall who would betray him for their own purposes.

Snowfall is the second book in Sean Platt and David Wright’s Stonefall trilogy, set in the bestselling Invasion Universe. If you enjoy watching the world crumble and the survivors struggle to survive, pick up your copy today.

AVAILABLE NOW FROM YOUR FAVORITE EBOOK RETAILER!

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Excerpt: Snowfall

The light might have been too bright if Gleeson didn't see infinity as an invitation.

And so he approached it, wanting to be filled, knowing the Lord was allowing him to see things here in the heavens of this lucid dream He could not show him while he was only a man, walking the Earth.

Here he was infinite, part of the heavens and everything that was so much greater than himself. It was as though he was seeing the world's data all at once. Not just thoughts and experiences from now, but from all time, yawning both behind and in front of him, an endless procession without beginning or end.

This was the infinite behind the veil. What only the angels could see. And the chosen like him.

It wasn't just data. Gleeson could hear their prayers. See them, even. A trillion pinpricks of light, though each could be zoomed in upon. Lived inside, if he wanted.

So many languages, and even though Gleeson had barely ever left Montana, and then mostly only to hit northern Wyoming, he could understand it all. Many tongues from all around the planet, past and present, then one he did not recognize. Though it was familiar, he'd never heard it before now. Because only in this dream with verity like a gospel had Gleeson been given a glimpse into the world of angels. The chance to hear them sing and talk and wonder aloud.

Their chatter was music, and to hear it for longer than a whisper of wind he would surely have to die.

But Gleeson was ready for that, if God were to call him.

He bathed in the light until being called to enter the dark.

Battles beyond his imagining, settling into conquest and seizure, a subjugation of humanity in hopes of who they could be, casting the planet into dispassionate judgement, the will they or won't they of spiritual ascension, then finally an extinction to wipe out the head of humanity, leaving it with but a few strands of hair.

The only way to establish an era of everlasting peace.

Hell unleashed so that Heaven may reign.

Yet amid all the battles and chaos, Gleeson could see some humans thriving despite their Judgment in the sky. Great cities built, where Heaven's Rule was like blood in the bodies of all who lived there.

Do you understand?

The angels were asking, so Gleeson said, “Yes.”

Do you know what to do?

And he did.

These cities of God did not belong to him, but Stonefall did, and Gleeson would make his tiny hamlet worthy of the Good Lord Himself. He would act as His son, bringing the Light to His people.

Gleeson would make sure his city was worthy of passing Judgment when it rained. His flock would be brought before the gates and granted entry, where they could then look down on a thousand years of peace on Earth.

He delivered scripture to the angels.

The Lord Himself will descend from Heaven with a shout … then those who are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air.

Gleeson could see how it would end, just as it had ended before.

There was a great earthquake, such a mighty and great earthquake as had not occurred since men were on the Earth … and great hail from Heaven fell upon men, each hailstone about the weight of a talent.

Gleeson was drawn toward a Light, brighter than any other. Walking then drifting without using his feet, finally floating across the expanse like a mote in God's eye.

He stopped at the baby.

But William was no longer only a baby.

Nor only a child, teen, full-grown adult, or withered old man.

He was all of them, each moment of every stage at once. As if Gleeson could see both seedling and tree. Oak and acorn. Cone and conifer.

In every version of William, his mouth moved like a conduit, speaking his data, inviting Gleeson to swim in his truth.

He longed to know more, to get closer to the child.

To hear everything he had to say.

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STONEFALL is Available Today!

IT'S NOT THE MEEK WHO INHERIT THE EARTH.

Eamon Quinn once had a good life. A loving wife. A child on the way. Then came the aliens – and everything changed.

Now, engulfed in a world of violence and decay with allies in short supply, Eamon will do anything to protect his strange and miraculous son from the criminals and aliens who would use him for their own ends.

Gleeson Crowe is sure that it was God who spared him when the aliens destroyed Stonefall. Now he is on a mission to rebuild the former prison into a haven to shield the righteous – and he thinks Eamon’s son can help him do it.

As civilization falls, one question remains. How wicked must the righteous become?

Stonefall is the first book in Platt & Wright’s new series set in the bestselling Invasion Universe. Fans of The Walking Dead and The Road will love this unflinching look at the devastating aftermath of an alien invasion.

AVAILABLE NOW FROM YOUR FAVORITE EBOOK RETAILER!

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Excerpt: Stonefall

Eamon was pissed.

Fuming mad. Totally fucking irate.

The angriest he'd been since the goddamned apocalypse started.

Sweet William's secret had been exposed, and now his son was a target. Because something like that in a world like this … well, there wasn't anything more valuable.

Sherry had meant well, just like Poppy would have. It was obvious why his heart kept pulling him toward the girl. But she invited this family inside, and now they couldn't leave. Their secret would go with them if they did. Eamon couldn't allow that, but he didn't want — or need — another three mouths to feed.

This was a mess, and as much as Sherry obviously wanted to hash it out, she was the last person he wanted to look at, let alone talk to, right now.

He needed to get Felony alone. The two of them could dribble ideas. He wondered how to do it without being obvious, then decided fuck that, this was his Cottage and he didn't have to tiptoe around anyone.

“Yo, Felony. We need to talk.”

Felony looked up, nodded, and followed Eamon out of the room.

Across the cabin and into his bedroom. Eamon shut the door then said, “We can't let them leave.”

“Of course we can let them leave. If you think more hands will lighten your load instead of giving you more shit to worry about, you're crazier than–“

“They'll tell people about William.”

“Oh,” Felony said, the truth hitting him like a hammer on his skull. “Then we kill the parents and keep the kid. You and Sherry have an instant family.”

“Fuck you, man.”

“You think I'm not serious? Don't drag me in here asking for advice if you're not willing to take it. The fuck you think that's gonna accomplish?”

“We're not killing them.”

“What? You never killed no one before? That's what you're telling me right here in my bedroom?”

“I'm not a murderer.”

“There's a difference?” Felony raised his eyebrows.

“Of course there's a difference.”

“You want to keep William a secret, then you better find a way to believe there isn't.”

Eamon sighed, shaking his head. “We can't do that.”

“Do what?” Felony pressed. “Add an orphan to the family, or let the world know about our treasure and turn the four of us into a target?”

“I can't murder innocent people, especially when they're in my house looking for help — but we also can't let them leave.”

“Helluva conundrum,” Felony said, in a voice that let Eamon know it wasn't. “Look man, you've gotta make a decision here, and you know what it is. Putting it off until later isn't going to help anyone. It's like naming an animal you're eventually going to eat. Let's take them back out and get this over with.”

“You're kidding. Just like that? Fuck you, man. Sherry would never forgive me.”

“She would get over it real quick, with another baby to take care of.”

Eamon paused, wondering if that might be true.

Felony said, “There's no reason we need to figure this out tonight. It's been a long day, and we should all go to bed. They can stay.”

“For how long?”

“I don't know. Not long. Until we figure things out.”

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SAVE THE WORLD is Available Today!

Safety was never guaranteed.

Hollis Palmer thought that, after stopping the aliens from blowing up Austin and rescuing Mia, he would be free to live his life in peace – at least as much peace as could be expected from a world overrun with aliens.

But the aliens have other plans. All around him, Hollis is finding people whose brains have been zapped by the invaders, and now they are little more than zombies. And the whole thing seems to be centered on the nearly ubiquitous Astral app that had first predicted their arrival.

Now, Hollis and Mia must face their final – and hardest – task yet: They will have to save not just each other or their home city, but the entire world.

Save the World is the epic conclusion to Sean Platt and Johnny B. Truant’s new series set in their bestselling Invasion Universe. If you’ve enjoyed the exploits of Hollis and Mia, you’ll love this thrilling final chapter! Pick up your copy today!

AVAILABLE NOW FROM YOUR FAVORITE EBOOK RETAILER!

 

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Excerpt: Save the World

“Say … Torchy,” Hollis said. “How did you know the aliens were coming?”

“Because they always come.”

“All right … ” he said, shifting on the couch and giving Mia another of those Why the fuck are we here? looks. “So how did you know when they’d come … this time, I guess.”

“Because there are doors. When you take the medicines, you can see them. Sometimes, they can see you.”

“You mean drugs.”

“Medicines.”

To Mia, Hollis said, “I understand now. When our boy here takes drugs, he sees aliens.And remembers lunchboxes.” Then to Torchy: “Thanks for your time.”

“We’re not leaving,” Mia said. Theo and Carol were out of ideas; they knew only that a vast power source from the southwest (based on the location of IP routers or something Mia didn’t understand) was lighting up whatever the aliens had done to the Astral data like a Christmas tree. At first, they’d thought it was a local problem, able to be addressed locally. But, Carol said, the Astral datacenter was now only part of the problem. If they couldn’t find this other power source,anything they did with the local databank would be pointless. But it wasn’t normal data; it came somehow through the air without the aid of electricity or internet. And they’d had no idea how to find it until Mia, on a whim, had read the right thing at the right time and suggested finding Torchy Banner. Not that Hollis planned to let her hear the end of it.

“Yes,” Hollis said. “We are.”

He was halfway to standing when Torchy said, “You had a lunchbox, too.”

“Come on, Mia.” Hand out, but Mia wasn’t budging. He was so infuriating. If they didn’t have it out soon — or make peace, which never really felt possible — she might just have to kill him.

“It had an army man on it,” Torchy went on, ignoring their power struggle. “The clasp was broken, so you wrapped it with a rubber band — one of those big ones, from your father’s work. You told him, ‘I want a new box. They are making fun of me. I want the one with the cartoon robots — one that actually works.’ But you were poor and he did not buy it, and so you walked to school every day with your army man lunchbox with the rubber band on it, and everyday you put it in the cloak room instead of the cooler because you wanted nobody to see. But one day there was no ice pack and it was warm and in the morning time, the mayo on your sandwich went bad. When you ate it you were throwing up for days. They made fun of you more for that,and after you took that lunchbox and threw it into the river and told your family you lost it. After that it was only leftover shopping bags to carry your lunch, which was worse. So you went to the river again, thinking you might be able to find it. But of course you could not.”

Hollis had never fully straightened. He was looking at Torchy like something that’d crawled from under a rock.

“How the hell did you know that?”

Mia looked from one man to the other. She asked Hollis, “Is … Is it true? Just like he said?”

“Nobody knows about that. I was alone. I never told anyone.”

Torchy still had his arm across the back of the couch, still with his legs crossed. He looked at Mia. “You do not know this?” he asked. “It is so loud, from south by southwest.”

“I’m right here, Freak Show,” Hollis said, suddenly angry. “I’m not at the bottom of your weird southern memory stream. Tell me how the hell you hear my memory coming from there if I’m right the fuck in front of you.”

“Maybe you went there,” Torchy said, “or maybe you will.”

“Where?”

“San Antonio.”

“WHERE.”

But Mia didn’t like Hollis’s tone, and was fascinated by the way Torchy had, somehow, nailed him. She pulled out a notebook and said, “Torchy. Do you know where exactly? San Antonio isn’t small.”

He waved both hands. “Give me a map.”

“Do you have a map?”

“In the map room.”

Which, of course, the luxury penthouse had in spades. It looked like a room on a trans-oceanic boat from the last century, when sailors had to navigate using transits to measure the stars. She found a Texas atlas quickly, hurrying sot hat Hollis wouldn’t pop Torchy’s head off while she was out of the room. Twice she heard Torchy say something and conclude with “Ha ha ha ha.” She worked faster. Hollis, hearing that laugh, might just go to murder.

“South,” Torchy said, waving Mia through page after page. “Southwest.”

Torchy stopped her on a page showing a zoom of San Antonio, hovered his hands mystically above the page, then stabbed at a spot.

Mia and Hollis looked. If his prediction was accurate, it meant the missing piece in the alien machine — source of all the power Theo and Carol saw streaming into the datacenter through technologies unknown — was about ten miles outside of town, at the intersection of two rather ordinary semi-rural streets. A destination, Theo had said,that he should be able to verify or deny once he knew where to look and what triangulations to try.

“Vine Street,” Hollis said, reading the map. “That’s where you say you ‘hear’ my private memories somehow coming from, even though I’ve never been anywhere near it in my life?”

“Is easy,” Torchy told him, smiling, missing all the ire in Hollis’s stare. Then he stood. “You would like some Fresca?”

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