Authors: Beth D. Carter
Defiance
Evernight
Publishing ®
Copyright©
2014 Beth D. Carter
ISBN: 978-1-77233-016-8
Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs
Editor:
Karyn
White
ALL
RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this
copyrighted work is illegal.
No part of
this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written
permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are
fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
Many thanks to
Karyn
,
the wonderful editor on this series.
And to
Evernight
for having this series!
Big thanks to
C.R. Moss who let me borrow her ear to talk though the edits.
DEFIANCE
Planet
Alpha
TM
Beth D. Carter
Copyright
© 2014
Prologue
The camp was filthy, with mud
everywhere, high barbed wire fences, and dirty people staring at them like they
were hungry.
Jordan
shrank against her mother, trying to hide in her long skirt. She didn’t like it
already and wanted to go. But her mother had told her that this was the safest
place for them, and if this place was safe then the outside world must be
really bad.
“How much you want for the girl?”
someone called out.
A man.
Jordan
tried to see who asked the
question, but her mother buried her even farther in her skirt.
“Leave us alone!” her mother cried.
Jordan
shuffled along in the
protective shadow of her mother. They didn’t stop for a long time, and when her
mother finally did,
Jordan
emerged from her makeshift cocoon to find they stood in a rough building. Bunk
beds were anchored into the ground, in neat little roles, piled so compactly
there was hardly any room to walk. There were some people lying in the far beds,
and her mother maneuvered her until they were by themselves in a dark corner.
“Get under the covers, Jordan,” her
mother whispered. “Stay here for a moment, all right?”
“Where are you going?”
“I have to get some things. Stay
hidden.”
Jordan
stayed still as a statue,
barely breathing. Her heart pounded in her chest. How long she stayed there,
she didn’t know, but she jumped when the bed dipped and a high pitched squeak
escaped her lips.
“It’s me,” her mother said. “Sit up
now.”
Jordan
sat up, and the blanket
pooled around her waist. Her mother held up a pair of scissors.
“You’ve got to become a boy now,”
was all she said as she began to cut off
Jordan
’s red curls. “You can’t be a
girl anymore.”
“Why not, Momma?”
“Because bad things will happen to
you if you’re a girl.”
“By those men?”
“Yes.
And worse.
As of right now you are no longer a girl. You’re a boy. If you stay a boy, if
you learn boy things, then you’ll be okay. Understand?”
Jordan
nodded, even though no, she
didn’t understand. She didn’t understand why they were in this place, or why
their home was no longer safe. And she really didn’t understand why she was
supposed to be a boy now.
“But boys pee standing up, and they
don’t have boobies,” she said, thinking she was being reasonable.
“You’ll learn. Adapt. Do what you
have to do, because if they learn you’re a girl, men will hurt you.”
Jordan
began to cry. Once her
mother was done cutting her hair off, she began pulling her dress over her
head.
“Don’t cry,” her mother said. “You
must never cry again. And you must be brave because boys aren’t afraid of
anything.” She held up a pair of pants and a shirt. “I stole some clothing. You’ll
wear this and nothing else, and when you’re older, we’ll bind your chest.”
“I don’t
wanna
be a boy, Momma,”
Jordan
cried.
Her mother pulled her tightly into
her arms. “Listen to me, I couldn’t bear anything happening to you, do you
understand? If you get hurt then I get hurt.”
“I’m scared.”
“I know, baby. But don’t surrender
to the fear, do you understand? This camp is our life now. So please, for me,
do as I say and tell no one who you really are. You cannot trust anyone.”
“What about if Daddy
comes for us?”
A sad look twisted her mother’s
beautiful face into something heartbreaking. “Daddy is in heaven. It’s just you
and me. So please, baby, act like a boy.”
Jordan
sniffed and nodded. “Can I
keep my name?”
“Yes,” her mother said. “
Jordan
can be a
boy’s name.”
“All right, Momma. I won’t be
scared. I’ll be a boy.
For you.”
Chapter One
Fourteen Years Later
“Hey,
Jordan
,” Derek said, nudging her
arm. “I think Heidi is into you. Just say the word and she’ll be yours for the
taking.”
Jordan
peered up at her friend from
under the brim of her cap. She was always conscious to keep her face more in
shadow because there simply was no hiding the fact that she didn’t grow
whiskers. “Who’s Heidi?”
“The blonde with
the braids, one section over.”
“I thought she was with Tom.”
Derek shrugged. “I think she’s
with
a lot guys. Tom was last week.”
Jordan
grinned and shook her head.
“Ah, then no thanks.”
“Then do you mind if I take a shot
at her?”
“Help
yourself
,”
Jordan
said with a shrug.
“Great!
Baseball
this Saturday?”
“You’re on,” she said before waving
good-bye and continuing on her way. She made sure her cap was pulled low. Luckily,
people only saw what they expected to see, and
Jordan
had been a boy for fourteen
years. She flattened her breasts, made
herself
scarce
when her monthlies came, and through it all, she hid her true gender from the
world.
Jordan made her deliveries, the
sewing her mother did to earn rations. The camp had to be self-sustaining, and people
did what they could for tradeoffs. The one thing her mother had been able to
salvage when they’d been forced from their home in
Berlin
was her sewing kit, and it had set
her up in business.
Jordan
made deliveries once a week, picking up stuff that people left out as well as delivering
the finished items. People paid in thread, food, fabric … anything that had
value inside a camp. The so-called guards brought provisions from the outside
world once a month, but most of the time it was a free for all that
Jordan
avoided
at all costs.
“
Guten
Morgen
, Jordan,” Mr. Meier said as she walked up. He sat in a chair
whittling on a piece of wood. He was the resident fix-it man, repairing
anything mechanical. When she’d been younger she used to follow him around, helping
him out.
“
Hallo
.” Jordan held up the shirt her mother had fixed. It was so
worn it was more patches now than actual shirt. “Why don’t you let Momma sew
you a new one?”
“Because you both
need to eat more than I need a new shirt.
Use the material on someone
else.”
Jordan
smiled and sat down on the
ground next to him. “But you’ve helped us so much over the years. Momma wants
to take care of you.”
Mr. Meier glanced at her. “Your Momma
fixes me dinner enough times. For an old bachelor like me that’s perfect. Anyway,
have you been practicing?”
Jordan
lifted her shirt just enough
to show the top of the baton.
“Every day.”
Mr. Meier sat down the piece of
wood he was carving on and put the knife back in the sheath at his belt. He
stood up leisurely.
“Very well.
Stand and show me what
you remember from our last session.”
Heinrick
Meier was the only person who knew her secret. He remembered her coming into
the camp that long ago day, her long strawberry red curls shining in the
sunlight. So when
Jordan
became a “boy” he’d approached her mother with the offer of teaching
self defense
. When
Jordan
turned fourteen, she took
Mr. Meier up on his offer, and he taught her to use a baton, to be quick and
agile, and made sure she could think fast on her feet.
Mr. Meier was a firm teacher, and
he gave as
good
as he taught. He didn’t go easy on her
just because she was a girl. She listened to his words on how to block, to
thrust, and incapacitate her enemy. They were lessons he taught over and over
because repetition became instinct.