Jericho Rising

Jericho Rising

Mary Lynne Gibbs

Original text of Jericho Rising© 2012 Mary Lynne Gibbs

Jericho Rising is published by Dragon’s Roost Press

This edition © 2016 Mary Lynne Gibbs and Dragon’s Roost Press

Cover Art © 2016 Don England

E-book Formatting: www.gopublished.com

All characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to any persons living, dead, or otherwise animated is strictly coincidental.

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Print ISBN: 978-1541093522

Dragon’s Roost Press

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Ferndale, MI 48220

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For my mom.

I wish you could have read this one.

Thank you for encouraging my dreams.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Epilogue

Bio

Also Available from Dragon’s Roost Press

Those who deny freedom to others, deserve it not for themselves.

—Abraham Lincoln

Prologue

In the year 2050, war erupted around the entire globe. Our ancestors called it World War III years before it ever started, but we called it something else—The First War. It was the first war to involve every nation on earth. Why? No one really knows…we just knew the aftermath.

Nearly every nation suffered profound loss, their landscapes bathed in blood. Many smaller towns throughout the United States experienced a mass exodus as the survivors moved to more populated areas seeking security, shelter, and food. A few brave souls chose to stay behind and struggled to maintain their ways of life.

In rural Lower Michigan, one disturbed woman took advantage of these circumstances. She made it her mission to twist her little part of the world into what she considered her own utopia. A perfect world in her eyes, where women ruled and men were nothing but slaves, pets, and playthings who had no rights and no voice. In this new world, hate replaced love and fear replaced peace.

A new Dark Age began as the self-proclaimed High Priestess ruled over all. If anyone dared to oppose her, they were taken into custody by her female guards and their wills broken with torture—or death.

Five years after it began, one young woman decided enough was enough. This woman believed that everyone—male and female alike—deserved the freedom that was stolen after the First War. One night, along with a small band of like-minded friends, this young woman led a rebellion that would ultimately become the Second War. This rebellion set off a chain of events that would alter history once more.

I was that young woman. My name is Jericho. This is my story.

Chapter One

Five years ago…

In a makeshift tent (really an old bed sheet held up by a length of twine tied to two trees), I huddled on the ground and tried to get some sleep. The sun had just begun to rise above the horizon. I could feel its warmth on my back through the sheet. Everything seemed peaceful in this early morning, but things weren’t always what they seemed.

Especially in my life.

A quiet whimper behind me caught my attention. I sat up and stared at the figure who shared the tent with me; a young man with sandy blonde hair and a baby face, who slept on his side with his knees drawn to his chest. He whimpered again, his face scrunched up in pain as he dreamed. Poor thing, I thought. He’d had a rough night. We all had, but some of us more than others…especially the people like this man; this innocent man who wore nothing but a pair of ripped jeans that had been cut off at the knees. I fought the urge to reach out to touch him, or even whisper soothing words to him. After what he’d been through, there was no telling how he’d react. I didn’t want to scare him any worse.

Jericho! Jericho! a familiar voice shouted. The sound of heavy footfalls on the ground accompanied the voice.

My heart slammed into my chest as the adrenaline shot through my body. I jumped up, stealing a glance at the sleeping figure. Pulling aside one edge of the sheet, I shielded my eyes against the sunlight.

What is it, Dana? What’s wrong?

As if I didn’t know.

In the center of the circle of tattered tents, a golden- blonde girl with bright green eyes skidded to a stop when she saw me.

They’re coming! Dana said. They’ve found us!

I looked in the direction she was pointing. Through the trees, I could barely make out a line of soldiers headed straight for us.

Dammit, I muttered. Find Phoenix. Rally the troops. It’s time.

Got it, Dana said and gave me a nod before she ran off to one of the other tents.

I watched her go for a moment, but my gaze traveled back to the approaching invaders. We’d soon be outnumbered—and out armed.

What did I do to us? I mumbled.

There was no time to beat myself up over it. Instead, I took a deep breath, ran a hand through my tangled hair, and ducked back into the tent.

The young man stared up at me. Fear filled his steel colored eyes. Grabbing my favorite dagger from my pack on the ground, I said, Don’t worry. I won’t let them take you back. Stay here. Don’t move unless I tell you to. He nodded without saying a word.

I ran out of the tent to join my friends as we began the fight for our very lives.

Chapter Two

Present: June 2063

The twenty-five members of the Obsidian clan, for lack of a better word, lived in the remnants of a rural motel abandoned during the First War. Vacations were a thing of the past, and it was far enough off the major routes that evacuees didn’t go there when they needed a place to stay on their way to the bigger cities. For us, it worked.

Its large, horseshoe shape made it easy if we needed to get to each other in a hurry. We only had to run across the courtyard. Plus, there was only one way in or out; perfect for security. The former office at one arm of the ‘u" provided an excellent place to meet and make plans, and the manager’s suite above the office gave our sentries the perfect vantage point to watch out for visitors—or intruders, which were a constant threat. The other arm housed a former restaurant that we still used as a dining area.

We didn’t have electricity; that luxury was lost years ago. Candles lit every room, and a fire pit cooked our food in the large space that used to be the parking lot before the grass and dirt reclaimed it. We lived simply. Only the necessary furniture occupied the rooms with us. Anything else was used for firewood or bartered with other clans. We dressed in whatever we looted from the stores when they closed down. The clothes were faded and torn in places, but functional. Most of the clan members learned to cook, build, sew—whatever they could to keep the camp running. Money didn’t exist in this new world. If anyone needed or wanted anything, they traded useful skills, services, or materials for it.

Tucked into the inner right corner of the building was the former honeymoon suite, the room where newly married couples once spent their first nights together. It was bigger than the rest of the rooms, and at one time had a functioning kitchenette and bathroom…everything the newlyweds needed when they wanted to hide away from the world after their wedding. Of course, that was before the High Priestess instated the marriage ban.

I shared the honeymoon suite with Jared, the man I loved. The kitchen now served as our weapons locker. The bathroom was largely unused since the plumbing didn’t work. We kept a bucket of water from the river beside the toilet in order to flush it. The wallpaper had peeled, the carpet was stained, and we only had the furniture we needed: a bed big enough for both of us, a desk, and a small dresser. There weren’t any decorations, aside from an old, framed picture of my father and me when I was a child. When we first found the motel and claimed it as ours, the others insisted I take the best it had to offer since I was the leader.

If it’s good enough for my clan, its good enough for me, I’d told them. I didn’t think I deserved anything more. My claim to leadership hadn’t come by election or birthright, but rather from a battle I didn’t want to fight. As a result, I wore the mantle of leadership heavily, and often wondered what would have happened if I didn’t do what I had done.

It was in this motel that my clan slept peacefully in their rooms, but in the honeymoon suite, I lay awake in bed and stared up at the cracked ceiling. I could feel my brows pinched together as I frowned, and remembered a time when my mother scolded me for such an action.

That’s how you get wrinkles! she’d said.

I just kept frowning.

My hair was splayed across my pillow, a dark red mess. I flicked a piece out of my eyes and sighed, folding my hands over my stomach.

Jared next to me. He rolled over and propped himself up on one elbow so he could see me better. After several minutes of silence, he finally asked, What are you thinking?

I blinked at the sound of his voice and turned my head to give him my full gaze. He looked back with eyes the color of steel under a fringe of sandy blonde bangs.

What makes you think I’m thinking anything? I asked.

He shrugged his free shoulder. Your nose has this cute way of scrunching up when something’s on your mind. cheek.

With a tender smile, I reached up and stroked his

You know me too well.

Years of practice, he replied in a matter-of-fact way. Then, he added with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, You’re pretty easy to read, you know.

Oh, really?

He didn’t reply, except to laugh. He leaned down and kissed me on the forehead before he lay back on the bed. I turned my eyes up toward the ceiling again, the crease in my brow deepening. It was true, we knew each other well…very well. We’d spent our entire adult lives together. But I often wondered, had things been different….

With my elbows, I pushed myself up on my pillow and twisted to face Jared. My