After many months of writing, revising, cutting, rewriting, rearranging, and occasionally wondering whether I had any idea what I was doing, Because of the Storm — Book One has reached an important point.
I’m beginning my final author edit.
There will still be proofreading, formatting, and the inevitable last-minute discoveries that come with preparing a manuscript for publication. But the story itself is finally where I want it to be.
So it seems like a good time to tell you what Because of the Storm is actually about—and to let you read a little of it.
About Because of the Storm
Twelve-year-old Arthur—Buck to his friends—has spent his entire life waiting to fly.
He was born with wings, but among the Flyers, young Fledglings are expected to wait until they are old enough and properly trained before taking to the sky. Buck has other ideas.
With his best friends Han and Mav watching from below, he climbs an abandoned iron tower beside the river and jumps.
That single act begins a chain of events none of them could have imagined.
Within days, Buck discovers that the world he knows is much larger than he has been taught. The Flyers are not alone. Beneath the rivers live the Swimmers. Beyond the forests and mountains live the Landbound. The three peoples have existed near one another for generations, separated by distance, suspicion, and beliefs none of them have examined very closely.
Then, in a single night, almost everyone disappears.
Three young Flyers remain.
Eight Swimmers remain.
Two Landbound remain.
Thirteen people from three peoples who barely know one another—and, in some cases, have very good reasons not to trust one another.
With their families gone and no explanation for what happened, the thirteen begin moving west, following the few clues they possess toward an unknown coast.
Behind them, a strange electrical storm is coming.
And it does not behave like any storm should.
Because of the Storm is an adventure about friendship, fear, inherited divisions, trust, and the discovery that sometimes the people we have been taught to keep at a distance are exactly the people we need beside us.
A Preview from Book One
Buck climbed until the ground seemed much farther away than he expected. The iron rungs were cold in his hands, and every movement made the old tower groan softly under his weight. He had climbed it dozens of times before, but never with the intention of leaving by any route other than the ladder. Tonight, each rung carried him closer to a decision that had been much easier to discuss safely at school.
When he reached the platform, Buck pulled himself over the edge and remained on his hands and knees for a moment. The tower seemed to sway beneath him, though he could not tell whether it actually moved or whether his body had simply decided that twenty-five feet was much higher than it had appeared from the ground.
Through the night-vision goggles, the river below glowed with unnatural brightness, a broad ribbon moving between dark walls of trees. He could see Han and Mav near the dock, their faces turned upward.
“You good?” Mav called.
Buck rose carefully to his feet. “I’m good.”
He was not entirely good.
The river was wider than he remembered, but suddenly not nearly wide enough. On the far side, the trees crowded close to the bank as though waiting for him to make a mistake.
He could still climb down. The thought arrived quietly, offering itself as a perfectly sensible option. Buck could tell Han and Mav the wind was wrong. He could say his feathers were not ready. They would be disappointed, but they would understand.
Then he looked beyond the river.
Above the trees, the night sky stretched farther than anything he had ever known. Somewhere beyond the darkness were places he had only read about, places that could never be reached by bicycle or bus. For as long as he could remember, Buck had watched older Flyers rise from rooftops and launching platforms as though the sky belonged to them.
He had never wanted anything more.
Buck removed the goggles and set them beside the ladder. If he was going to fly, he wanted to see the night as it truly was.
Below him, Han cupped his hands around his mouth and called, “What are you doing?”
“Getting ready.”
“For what?”
Buck almost laughed.
He stepped toward the edge and unfolded his wings. The feathers trembled in the river breeze, and the gaps that he had considered insignificant in his bedroom mirror now felt enormous as cold air slipped through them and brushed against his back. He stretched his wings as far as they would go and tried to remember everything he had studied about balance, lift, and body position.
Keep the chest forward. Do not lock the shoulders. Let the air carry the wings.
All of it had sounded considerably easier while standing on the ground.
Han and Mav stepped onto the dock for a better view. Buck could hear them whispering below, though not well enough to make out the words. He suspected they were discussing what to do if he hit the water badly, which was thoughtful but not especially encouraging.
He lifted one foot, then put it down again.
“Buck?” Mav called.
“I’m fine.”
“You keep saying that.”
Buck drew a long breath and looked once more across the river. If he waited much longer, fear would make the decision for him.
“Count me down.”
Han and Mav moved closer together.
“Three!” they shouted.
“Two!”
Buck bent his knees.
“One!”
He pushed away from the platform before courage had time to abandon him.
For one impossible moment, Buck hung beneath the open sky. The tower fell away behind him, the river waited below, and his body seemed uncertain where it belonged.
Then he dropped.
Air tore past his face. His stomach remained somewhere above the tower while the rest of him plunged toward the water. Wind rushed through the gaps in his feathers, and every lesson he had ever studied escaped his mind.
Buck stretched his wings until his shoulders burned and beat them downward with all the strength he possessed.
Nothing happened.
The river rushed closer.
He beat them again, but his right wing caught the air before the left and twisted him sharply sideways. Buck fought to straighten himself, flapping harder as his muscles strained and his feathers shook. For one terrifying instant, he understood exactly what it meant to have jumped too soon.
The water was close now. Too close.
Then the air beneath his wings changed. Buck felt it before he understood it—a sudden pressure pushing upward against his feathers, firm enough to resist his fall. His wings stopped fighting empty space and found something that held them. He leveled, and for several heartbeats he could scarcely believe what had happened.
The river was no longer rushing toward him.
It was passing beneath him.
He was gliding.
A laugh escaped him, wild and breathless. He beat his wings again, this time feeling the air beneath them. His body lifted slightly. Another beat carried him higher.
“I’m flying!” he shouted, exhilaration surging through him.
Han and Mav erupted in cheers below him.
That is where Because of the Storm begins.
Buck thinks his great adventure is learning to fly.
He has no idea what is coming.
More soon.
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