Description:
In the future, some people, known as rogues, exhibit supernatural abilities. That’s not a good thing, however, because the global government hunts them down and executes them, imprisons them, or forces them to become assassins. Silas is such a rogue. He lives day by day constantly paranoid about his chances of survival. So when a wide-eyed hobo offers him a solution to his problems, a mysterious man who the U.N. seems desperate to find, he follows, not having the slightest clue what he’s just stepped into.
Alice hides a dark secret. Many rogues have come and gone in past years, but if people only knew how dark her so-called gift was, they would reject her. Attack her. Kill her. Where can she turn?
Sage is the one that connects them. The one that offers hope to them both. Little is known about him and precious few have seen him. So why is he the only one that the U.N. is afraid of?
EXCERPT
Silas’ senses were still fuzzy. His vision was a blur, his sense of direction practically nonexistent. He blundered through the park, disoriented and confused. He soon lost control of his abilities. Flashes of thoughts and memories ran through his mind faster than he could process them: everything from a child on a swing to a man struggling with a gambling addiction to a man’s wife leaving him flooded through his mind. It soon became too much for him to handle. Continuing to run, not being able to see where he was running, he soon ran into a solid object and collapsed on the ground.
“Yo, come on bro, wake up!”
Silas slowly opened his eyes.
“Where am I?”
“In an alley, man. You went like boom and then like whoa! And then you collapsed like gum under muh shoe, man.”
Silas looked up. This guy was definitely a stoner. His red wool stocking cap and hot pink t-shirt made him noticeable. These details, and the man’s scruffy brown beard, as well as the biggest pair of green eyes that Silas had ever seen in his life combined to create one of the most unique human entities ever seen.
Silas’ fascination with the crazed hippie was interrupted when Silas’ thoughts returned to him.
“How long ago did this happen?”
“Just a couple, seconds ago, bro.”
Silas took off before the stoner could say another word. The soldiers were still on his trail. He bolted out of the alley, running with all of the strength that his muscles could provide. He soon ceased to feel his legs, but continued to will them to move. The street he turned on was wide open: easy for them to run him down. He needed to get somewhere that was harder to get to, but he had no time to do so.
The U.N. cruiser drifted around the corner and sped in his direction. Silas started to panic. He had powers to be sure, but powers of the mind; powers that he didn’t know how to use. If he tried accessing the mind of the driver, he could end up passing out again, making him dead meat for sure considering he was in the middle of the street. The car was getting closer and he took a quick turn down an unknown street. He soon found himself in the midst of a market, swimming through the crowd. The car behind him screeched to a halt and the soldiers got out, running through the sea of people, yelling and pointing. Silas heard them fire several rounds into the air, which cleared out the crowd within a few seconds.
Silas ducked in among the hundreds of people that were still scattering, snagged a fur cap from an unsuspecting man’s coat pocket, and quickly put it on, hoping it would help him blend in. He tried to calm his heart, taking slow breaths and trying his best to look like a local. He was so focused on being calm, in fact, that he did not immediately respond to the second round of shots into the air. He was the only one that didn’t scream, duck, or run wild, which was a dead give-away.
“HEY!”
Oh boy.
Without looking back, he jetted once again. The hat flew off his head and he took cover from the gunshots behind one of the unoccupied shop stands. Or at least, he thought it was unoccupied.
“Tight corner, ain’t it bro?”
Sitting beside him was the hippie who had found him in the alley.
“What are you doing here?!”
“I was gonna ask you that. As for me, I come here for a daily dose of adrenaline. Life just gets too boring you know?”
“What?!”
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you what sarcasm is, ya dunce?”
Silas stared at him. He had no idea who this guy was or why of all places he was right here right now. It was quite inconvenient timing on his part.
“I’m here to help you, and unless you want to be a federal lab rat, I suggest you come with me.”
“As if I’m going to trust you.”
“Would you rather have the soldiers? AKs don’t sit well with flesh and blood, you know that right?”
Silas didn’t answer, but he didn’t move either. He concentrated. All he could pick up was telepathic static. He couldn’t access anything. Then he could feel something coming. It was blurry, but still existent. He was almost there, if he could only access it . . .
Sharp pain in the back of his head.
Blackness.
Logan Judy is a fantasy, science fiction, and dystopia author who began writing his first book, a medieval fantasy novel, when he was 12 years old. While he never published that work, it was instrumental in jump-starting his writing career, as he branched out into other stories and worlds, including space opera and dystopia. His first published work, Finding Sage, was completed and released in 2014. Currently living in Indiana with his wife and Don Quixote-esque guard dog, Logan Judy is hard at work completing the tale that Finding Sage began.
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