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    You're Not Going That Way: Life Within Parole (Chameleon Moon Short Stories), #3
    You're Not Going That Way: Life Within Parole (Chameleon Moon Short Stories), #3
    You're Not Going That Way: Life Within Parole (Chameleon Moon Short Stories), #3
    Ebook61 pages51 minutes

    You're Not Going That Way: Life Within Parole (Chameleon Moon Short Stories), #3

    By RoAnna Sylver

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    About this ebook

    Follows the events of the short story The Library Ghost in the anthology Life Within Parole, and immediately precedes Chameleon Moon Book 2: The Lifeline Signal.

    ---

    Ash and Annie escaped Parole's collapse to find the outside world is almost as damaged as the one they left behind, and every bit as changed. They've traveled almost three thousand miles, pursued by old enemies and new dangers to meet the brilliant Dr. Maureen Cole, who promises she holds not only the key to saving Parole, but weathering the toxic storms of the deadly wasteland called the Tartarus Zone. 

    On the way, they keep an eye out for everything and everyone they lost in the collapse - like Regan, who was last seen leaving Parole by himself, under very suspicious circumstances, and Zilch's precious organ jars, stolen by Eye in the Sky when Parole fell. There's no telling what or who they might find out here in this strange new world, or what lies deeper in its heart.

    But a lot of road lies between them and their goal. And Parole isn't the only place filled with ghosts. In Tartarus, they're a lot more real than anywhere else.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRoAnna Sylver
    Release dateJan 1, 2017
    ISBN9781386913412
    You're Not Going That Way: Life Within Parole (Chameleon Moon Short Stories), #3
    Author

    RoAnna Sylver

    RoAnna Sylver is passionate about stories that give hope, healing and even fun for queer, disabled and other marginalized people, and thinks we need a lot more. Aside from writing oddly optimistic dystopia and vampire books, RoAnna is a blogger, singer, and artist. RoAnna lives with family near Portland OR, and probably spends too much time playing videogames. The next adventure they would like is a nap in a pile of bunnies.

    Read more from Ro Anna Sylver

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      Book preview

      You're Not Going That Way - RoAnna Sylver

      YOU’RE NOT GOING THAT WAY: A Chameleon Moon Short Story

      Copyright © 2017 by RoAnna Sylver.

      Cover art by RoAnna Sylver.

      Interior formatting by Lyssa Chiavari.

      Edited by Tabby Brobston and Cherise Hawkins.

      Additional Developmental Editing by Claudie Arseneault.

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.

      All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law.

      You're Not Going That WayA Chameleon Moon Short Storyby RoAnna Sylver

      TWO DAYS BEFORE CHAMELEON MOON: THE LIFELINE SIGNAL…

      ☾

      Nobody had seen the sun, moon, or stars in Parole for ten years. Still, they had to be there. Even with a lethal barrier overhead and permanent smoke blocking out the sky. No matter how the ground trembled or the fire roared, a few comforting thoughts remained: even if nobody in Parole could see them, the stars were still there. The same was true for the people they loved on the other side of the barrier. They were safe and living normal lives. For ten years, everyone in Parole survived on the hope that the outside world was clean, free of fire and soldiers and all the other horrors haunting their dreams and waking life.

      Some things were eternal, they said. The world didn’t change that easily.

      They’d been wrong.

      Anh Minh Le was used to riding a motorcycle through Parole’s crumbling streets—or several stories above them—and leaping craters of red-hot flame. Parole's jagged alleyways were narrow, choked with dangerous twists and turns as well as smoke. Now she sped down an empty highway cutting through miles of open desert, churning up a dust cloud in her wake.

      In every direction, a dead, poison-ravaged landscape stretched as far as she could see. Her tinted helmet visor cut the glare from the white-bleached earth and harsh sun, and she looked out on a surreal, almost alien-looking landscape. When she’d stepped out of Parole, it had been like setting foot onto another planet and directly into a strange, new nightmare.

      We made it! Her heart was slamming so hard and fast it felt like part of her bike’s engine, like their acceleration ran on adrenaline, and she was just a heartbeat away from actually taking flight. We actually did it!

      Yeah we did! Her godfather, Ash, sat behind her. A lot more precariously than she’d like, since he was balancing a liquid-filled, reinforced jar between himself and the much smaller driver. In the jar floated a disembodied organ—a pancreas, if they were right. Neither were entirely sure, even if this particular pancreas was very important to both of them. Now let’s keep making it. We still got shields?

      We’re good! A faint energetic sphere shimmered around their speeding vehicle. They were surrounded by a tiny version of the barrier that surrounded Parole, but for a much different, less sinister reason. A shield, not a cage.

      Good! Then gun that thing, Annie, let her rip!

      One thing hadn’t changed. Like always, they were running away from something, not toward it. There were Eyes out here here too—they just weren’t in the Sky anymore. Annie obliged and they picked up more breakneck speed.

      They still after us? she had to ask, before risking a look herself. She didn’t have to turn around; her helmet projected a holographic rearview display, complete with warning lights. A huge, angular, mechanical shape loomed behind them. Just as surreal as everything else out here, it was a battleship with no ocean in sight—but far from grounded. Deadly if it pursued. But it soon fell behind a rolling hill, lost from sight. Guess not.

      Don’t count Sharpe out yet, Ash cautioned, giving her shoulder a pat that felt like half affection, half warning. Then he went right back to hanging onto the large jar with both hands again, wrapping his muscular frame around it like a

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