Excerpt Thursday
Thursdays are usually pretty boring, right? Well, not any more! I am going to be giving you a short excerpt of AFTER THE END every single Thursday, until I have revealed the entirety of Chapters 19 and 20.
Why 19 and 20, you ask? Because there are 2 parts of the book. Part 1 is Juneau in Alaska, and it’s a bit dark. For example, I could give you something like,
“My arrow flies true and the great bull caribou slumps to the ground. I sling my crossbow over my shoulder, and the virgin snow crunches under my moccasins as I sprint across the field to kneel by the beast’s heaving side. ‘Thank you,’ I say as I draw my knife from my belt. I pet the bristly fur of his muzzle and look him straight in his huge glassy eye. And then I slit his throat.” (AFTER THE END, p. 11)
But I wouldn’t want to do that. Because then you’d think that the book is about hunting and violence and that Juneau isn’t a very nice person. Instead, we’ll skip over to Part 2 and I’ll give you the chapters where Juneau Newhaven (17) and Miles Blackwell (18) meet. It’s a good introduction to them and the rest of the two-book series.
Why am I doing this? Well, I admit, my goal isn’t solely to liven up your Thursdays. I am hoping that you will like the story enough to pre-order the book. So I have put handy pre-order links at the bottom of the page. But DON’T PRE-ORDER IT unless you are thoroughly intrigued by the characters, by their mysteries, by the suggestion that things are not as they seem. So don’t order it right away. Wait until you can’t stand it any more and are totally hooked. And then click the button!
Instead of posting each excerpt in a separate blog post, I will just add the new excerpt to this one each Thursday. That way you can easily find your way back to read more. So…are you ready? Here begins the world-exclusive teaser of Chapters 19 and 20 from AFTER THE END, to be released by HarperTeen on May 6, 2014.
Dec. 5, 2013 Excerpt
Chapter 19: Juneau
I have searched the streets of Seattle for several days, looking for the person my oracle spoke of, without the foggiest notion of what he looks like. Yesterday I felt he was near, but I had to run from my pursuers before I could spot him.
Used to being the hunter, I am now the hunted. Men are chasing me—they aren’t dressed like Whit’s captors, so I have no idea who they are. I just know I have to continue looking for the person I’m supposed to meet while keeping the men at bay. It would help if I knew what he looked like instead of just trusting my hunter’s instinct that he is following me.
But the second he walks into the library, I know it is him.
Dec. 12, 2013 Excerpt
I am sitting at my usual table: the one I use whenever the rain drives me off the streets, reading magazines and newspapers to familiarize myself with the events of the last thirty years.
I keep my head down, scanning the pages of a Time magazine while I see him glance my way and take a seat at the end of my table. Only when he pretends to be reading a book do I allow myself a peek.
I study his features carefully. His light-brown hair is the color of fireweed honey tossed about in a scramble of loose curls. He has a long, straight nose and lips that look like they’re hiding a joke. Or a secret.
He glances my way and sees me staring at him. I can’t tell if his eyes are blue or green. I rise, walk to his end of the table, and sit down directly across from him. He watches me, his face reddening with surprise.
“What’s your name?” I whisper. The page-padded hush of the room swallows my voice, but he hears me.
He hesitates, looks uncertain, and then focuses on my left eye. Clearing his throat, he whispers, “Miles.”
It’s the answer I’ve been waiting for.
Dec. 19, 2013 Excerpt
I nod and study him for another few seconds. And then I rise to my feet. “Come on,” I say. I swing my backpack over my shoulder and stand next to him, waiting.
He sits there looking dumbfounded. “What? Where?”
I extend my hand. He looks at it warily—like it’s an inanimate object. Like it’s one of those mystery boxes Kenai loves to make: you never know if it holds a piece of blueberry cake or a coil-spring snake that will smack you in the face.
The boy doesn’t take my hand. Instead, he follows me out of the library into the parking lot. It’s still raining. I pull up my hood and let the rain drizzle down my jacket, while Miles huddles beneath the building’s overhang.
“Which one is yours?” I ask.
“The Beamer.” Miles points to a silvery-blue car that looks brand-new, and then wraps his arms back around himself. It isn’t very cold, but his shirt is too light for the weather. Doesn’t come prepared, I think, continuing the mental assessment I had begun the moment I saw him.
I walk to his car and stand next to the passenger side. “What are you doing?” Miles calls.
“Waiting for you,” I respond. “And getting wet.”
Dec. 26, 2013 Excerpt
He gives me an incredulous look. When I don’t move, he leaves his dry spot and jogs through the rain toward me, pressing something on his keys as he runs. I hear the locks click and I open the door, slide in, and stash my backpack in the rear seat. Miles bundles into the car and turns to gape at me. “What are you doing?” he repeats.
“I could ask you the same thing,” I respond. “You were looking for me. And now you’ve found me. I’ll tell you what I’m doing if you tell me what you already know about me.”
His jaw snaps shut and his eyes grow wide. Green eyes. I can tell now. They’re the dark blue-green-black of a Denali lake at dusk. The thing about lake water is it’s opaque. You never know what’s hidden underneath.
Jan. 2, 2014 Excerpt
“What I know about you? Nothing!” he says.
I stay silent, crossing my arms as I wait. He sees that I won’t talk until he does.
“Seriously,” he claims. “All I know is that some people are looking for you. And the locals think you’re crazy because you go around asking people’s names.” He pauses, looking sorry that he said that last part. Understandable. It’s not the kind of thing you would want to mention when sitting in an enclosed space with said crazy person.
Tactless, I add to my list, and ask, “Do you?”
“Do I what?” he asks, looking cornered.
“Think I’m crazy?”
“Um, I would have to say…at this moment…yes,” he admits.
I chew my lip and look out the window at the parking lot. No question about it—I’m sure Miles is the one Frankie foresaw.
Jan. 9, 2014 Excerpt
I look back at him and raise my eyebrows impatiently.
“What?” he asks, looking defensive.
“Let’s go,” I say.
“Go where?”
“To find my clan.”
His features flip through a series of comical expressions: incomprehension, doubt, surprise, and finally exasperation.
“Where…where do we have to go to find your…clan?”
I lean forward to peer at the point where the sun hides under the rain clouds to get my bearing. “It looked kind of desertlike. Kind of Wild West. It’s in that direction,” I say, pointing southeast.
“Whoa,” he says, holding his hands up in a defensive gesture. “Listen here. I don’t have any clue what you’re talking about. And I haven’t said I’m taking you anywhere. Much less to the Wild West.”
“Then tell me why you were following me.”
Jan. 16, 2014 Excerpt
He stares back at me as long as he can before shifting his gaze away. I just sit and watch him, waiting for him to come around. Finally he sighs and says, “Okay, I’ll give you a lift. But I was headed south, actually. To California. We’ve got a lot of Wild West there. You could ride there with me and then go look for your clan. But I’ll need to make a stop and pick up some…stuff first. Clothes. You know.”
“What’s in the suitcase behind the seat?” I ask.
“Um…clothes,” Miles says, fidgeting. “Yeah, I forgot about that. But I could take you to your hotel if you need to get…supplies.” He rearranges his face into a helpful smile and then lifts his eyebrows in a way that I think is meant to charm me.
Nome would be eating this up, I think. She had actually gone through the Encyclopedia Britannica and ranked the photos of every scientist, politician—anything male—from one to ten, based on “charisma,” as she called it. I can never think of John F. Kennedy without the number 7.5 popping into my head.
But I feel only amusement watching Miles. I have goal, and he is the one who will help me. My interest ends there.
Next excerpt: Jan. 23, 2014
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