Here’s an excerpt: the first chapter of my very first book!
Chapter 1
It was early May, and very warm out in New Mexico. In fact, the temperature was absolutely, miserably, hot. The world shimmered as the sun warmed the sidewalk to the point that it would fry an egg and then burn it to a crisp. I was dressed in jean shorts and a tank top as I walked along, my dark blond hair in a braid to keep it off my skin. In defense of the heat, I was hiding in a shadow, hoping to get a little relief. I hadn’t been out of my car for more than a minute and I was already sweating, and I was a native to New Mexico. The tourists would have died of a heatstroke by this point.
Across the street was the elementary school. A single story building designed in a large U, it was entirely surrounded at this moment by parents and buses waiting to pick up their children, sunglasses on, air-conditioning flipped to high as they all sweltered. The only oddity in this scene was currently standing on the corner.
Three horsemen, dressed in black and sitting on black horses, clustered together on the corner. I couldn’t say what was bothering me, but something about them wasn’t right. It wasn’t their appearance, although that wasn’t helping. From neck to foot, they were dressed in black, with black leather even covering their fingertips. The one on the right and left wore a cloth covering over their heads, black, of course, but it was the one in the center that most puzzled me. To my disbelief, the one in the middle wore a helmet, as if he was a knight preparing to joust. It was a large, metal, cylindrical helmet, like a very, very old knight’s helmet from the medieval times. Tall and a crimson red, it was somehow spotlessly clean, almost as if it were new. There was a slit for the eyes, and a narrow one in the center of the front that I guessed was so he could breathe. I would have thought that perhaps no one was inside the helmet, as still as the man was and considering the heat, but as the horse lowered his head a little, a quick motion from the hands holding the reins stopped the horse’s search for grass.
The bell suddenly rang to dismiss the students and I narrowed my gaze as the three men moved, the hooves ringing on the pavement as they pulled back so they wouldn’t mingle with the sudden crush of people. Ahead, I could see children start to trickle out of the building and immediately clamber into their parents’ cars, vans, or in school buses, trying to get to an air-conditioned place. I stayed in the shadow, on the lookout for my little sister, Catherine, and keeping an eye on the horsemen.
I had been about to leave the shadow when one child in the midst of students seemed to catch the attention of the three horsemen. The girl’s eyes widened and then she took off in obvious terror, darting to the alley across the street, heedless of any dangers. The horsemen galloped after her, the one in the red helmet taking the lead. I sprinted after them without thought, dashing around a school bus, weaving through the teachers’ parked cars, knowing something wasn’t right. The alley would put them out of sight from anyone nearby. And anyone chasing a child was going to need a good explanation why.
Before I could get to the dark-haired girl, just a few steps into the alley, the horseman wearing the helmet caught up to her and grabbed her arm, ignoring her struggles as he lifted her off the ground.
“Hey!” Without pause, I scooped up a chunk of brick and heaved it. It hit the wall next to the horseman and shattered. The other horsemen wheeled around and the lead man whipped his head towards me, hand resting on his belt.
They all paused, seeming a little surprised to see me. The lead man hesitated.
“You want to get your hand off that child,” I said coldly. “Right this second.”
His grip relaxed and she slid to the ground, backing away. She looked as if she were about to cry and didn’t know where to go.
“This does not concern you.” The leader’s voice echoed in the helmet. “Leave,” he ordered.
“Whatever you’re doing concerns me now,” I snapped back. “I’m not leaving without her unless you’ve got a good explanation for this kidnapping.”
The horseman stared impassively down at me, but said nothing.
I walked forward, ignoring the other two horsemen I had to pass while my heart pounded, and offered my hand to the girl. “Here,” I said softly. “I’m Joan. Are you okay?”
She took my hand and clung to it tightly, hiding herself behind me. “Yeah,” she mumbled, obviously intimidated by the men.
I glared up at the horsemen, challenging them. And preparing for a fight, I put my back to the wall, shielding the girl. The lead horseman met my gaze, then turned and spurred his horse forward, past us. The others followed, going side by side down the cramped, red-brick alley, their horses’ hooves kicking up damp, red dirt from the morning’s brief rain, leaving me with the girl.
“Do you know what this was all about?” I asked her.
“They’re trying to take me.” Her brown eyes welled with tears. “And my momma.”
“Don’t cry,” I said softly, crouching down in front of her. “It’s all right. I’ll take you home. Where’s home?” My sister was already on the bus and the bus was gone. I had to make sure this girl got somewhere safe now.
“I don’t know. Momma told me I had to stay put, but I didn’t, and maybe they scared her away.” She wailed it.
I took her hand in mine again. “Let’s wait and see,” I said quietly. “And if she doesn’t come, you can come home with me tonight.”
We waited on the metal bench outside the school for over an hour. Leslie, that was the only part of her name that she’d give me, looked as if she were going to burst into tears at any moment. Talking helped, so I encouraged her to talk. From what she said, and didn’t say, I managed to piece together quite a bit. They were obviously on the run from someone. They moved a lot, but they were now living in a car. The father had died in jail. The story was fuzzy, but it had something to do with a war, being accused of treason, but Leslie was insistent that her father was innocent even though he’d died in prison.
When the mother didn’t show up, I packed Leslie in my car and drove her home with me. Leslie had been unable to give me a phone number, and I saw no other option.
Cathy was waiting in the living room. “Hi!” She smiled and blew a bubble from the gum she was chewing, then popped it, giggling. “Who’s this?”
“Leslie. She couldn’t find her mom after school. She’s staying with us tonight.”
“Okay. Is Jim coming?” Cathy was unconcerned. We’d taken in children before. Jim was our godfather and a police officer. I’d be putting in a call to him in a few minutes.
“I haven’t called him yet. Homework?”
She made a face. “Only a little.”
“Then it shouldn’t take you very long.” I pointed to the table. “Leslie, do you have any homework?”
“I’m homeschooled,” Leslie explained hesitantly.
“Then why don’t you both have a snack while Cathy does hers?”
“May I use the bathroom?” Leslie asked.
“Of course. At the end of the hall.”
While Leslie was in the bathroom, I had a quick conversation with Cathy. She didn’t know Leslie and hadn’t seen her before. Cathy, being the social butterfly that she was, always had a wealth of friends around her, so it didn’t surprise me that she hadn’t met Leslie. She hadn’t seen the horsemen either.
Leslie fidgeted with her long, black hair when I asked her again if she knew anything about the horsemen. She just said her mother had told her to stay away from them because they wanted to kidnap her.
Cathy snorted. “They can’t now,” she said. “Joan’s the guardian angel for our school. There’s hardly any bullies now. Nobody messes with Joan. Dad calls her the fighting queen.”
I smiled. “Nobody messes with the Ilions,” I corrected.
Cathy beamed and popped a bubble.
After I coerced my sister into doing homework, I stepped outside to call Jim, leaving a voicemail for him to call me back. As I sat on the steps to our white, one-story home, I started thinking over the encounter today. My first thought was gangs of some kind. Leslie’s mother didn’t have to be very old to have a child this young. But the horses were new, and I’d never seen a gang member who was afraid of showing his colors or his tattoos. And he’d sounded supremely confident, not like most gang members I knew around here. The ones I knew usually backed down when confronted, or they pulled out their weapons. If they didn’t, they sounded utterly arrogant and used every foul word they could in the space of a sentence. These horsemen hadn’t backed down at all and they hadn’t even insulted me. Even when they’d left, it hadn’t seemed like they were backing down, but more like biding their time. They were too smooth, too military-like. It didn’t make sense and I didn’t like it.
As the phone in my hand started to ring, something in my brain clicked. I didn’t move, realizing what had bothered me about the horsemen; no one else had said anything about strange men in odd clothes on horses. No one waiting in their vehicles had seemed to notice them at all. It was as if no one had seen them, except me.