◊by William Michael Davidson
◊Release date: February 7, 2017
◊$15.95, 6x9 Trade paperback, 242 pages
◊Science Fiction (FIC028000) / Christian Futuristic Fiction (FIC0402020)
◊Print ISBN 978-1-939844-29-3
◊eBook ISBN 978-1-939844-30-9
◊Order through Ingram, Follett, or from the publisher
◊$4.99 eBook available in all formats
One nation, without God...
Colton Pierce apprehends Abberants—those who display symptoms of faith—and quarantines them on a remote island to ensure public safety. Years prior, the government released a genetically-engineered super flu that destroyed the genes believed to be the biological source of spiritual experience in an effort to rid the world of terrorism. As an extractor with the Center for Theological Control, Colton is dedicated to the cause.
But Colton's steadfast commitment is challenged when he learns his own son has been targeted for extraction. An underground militia, the Remnant, agrees to help Colton save his son in exchange for his assistance with their plan to free the Aberrants on the island.
Colton is faced with the most important decision of his life. Remain faithful to the CTC? Or give up everything to save his son?
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William Michael Davidson lives in Long Beach, California with his wife and two daughters. A believer that "good living produces good writing," Davidson writes early in the morning so he can get outside, exercise, spend time with people, and experience as much as possible.
A writer of speculative fiction, he enjoys stories that deal with humanity's inherent need for redemption.
For more on Davidson and his writing, connect with him on Goodreads, Twitter, Facebook, and Amazon Author’s Page.
The target was somewhere on Pine Street, a popular and well-traveled road in Downtown Long Beach known mainly for its restaurants and nightlife. Right now, at a little after eleven, it would be less crowded than usual, but there would still be the early lunch crowd. His arm computer and communication with the Command Center confirmed that the target was hiding out in one of the buildings. Local law enforcement had already begun to evacuate the block and establish a perimeter.
As Colton pulled up to the crowd and brought his Interceptor to a stop, he looked down at his arm computer: 11:12. Good, he thought. Only four minutes since leaving headquarters. If he could get this extraction under fifteen minutes, or maybe ten minutes, that would be impressive; it would be something he could rub Ashton’s nose in, and it certainly wouldn’t hurt his campaign to become the new Chief Officer. He turned off the ignition and climbed out just as Petra pulled up behind him in her medical vehicle.
The crowd of bystanders stood behind the perimeter of yellow tape. Before Colton had time to get his bearings, he was approached by Officer Burrows, who pointed to one of the tall buildings about halfway down Pine Street.
“He’s hiding out in that building,” Burrows said. A police copter was circling it, and not far off, a couple media helicopters were hovering near the perimeter of the scene. “We have most of this block evacuated and have set up a perimeter. Let me know if there’s anything else we can do.”
“Sure thing,” Colton said.
He walked toward the perimeter of yellow tape and the crowd parted as Colton, Marek, and Petra made their way through it. A few in the crowd began to clap, and when a few more began to cheer and whoop, it turned into an outright celebration. A young woman cried out, “I love you!” Two young brothers, one on dad’s shoulder and one on mom’s, pointed at them, and one—it was hard to tell which in all the commotion—cried out, “Look! Extractors! Better than firemen!” Colton felt so many people slap him on the back as he ducked beneath the yellow tape, he thought this was what a heavyweight boxer must feel like walking toward the ring before a title match. None of this was new to Colton, though. The presence of an extraction brought out the crowds, and because the CTC never wrote tickets or arrested the general public, the extractors had become an esteemed branch of public safety.
Once in the restricted area and away from the yellow tape, Colton withdrew his Shark 41-F tranquilizer. He heard Marek’s tranquilizer gun slip out of its holster as well. Petra walked a fair distance behind. A few officers who were still in the restricted area ushered stragglers away from the Pine Center building. The police had done a good job evacuating the area, as was protocol; local law enforcement was prohibited from engaging a target except in extreme, violent cases in which public safety was in immediate danger. In most cases, such as this, local law enforcement played a secondary role only: evacuating an area, providing aerial surveillance, and assisting with the general public. Their job was to clear the path for the extractor, and Colton was thankful for that. With the people out of the way, this extraction—like all extractions—would go smoothly.
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