Title: Origami War
Author: Toni J. Spencer
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: 07/19/2022
Pairing: Female/Female
Length: 65900
Genre: Sci Fi, LGBTQIA+, YA, lesbian, pansexual, alternate universe, dystopian, dark, coming-of-age, hurt/comfort, sleepwalking, angst, family drama, graphic violence, martial law
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Description
Haunted by her mother’s death, sixteen-year-old Penny sleepwalks by night. By day, she peddles bootleg vodka to rich kids looking for kicks on the wrong side of Brooklyn Bridge, a place reeling in total economic meltdown, strict curfew laws, and violent disarray.
Penny’s chance meeting with Quinn, a rabble-rouser dabbling in counterculture graffiti, sets in motion a deep love affair and the start of a seemingly impossible revolution. Inspired by a childhood memory, the two of them craft powerful messages hidden in the folds of hundreds of paper airplanes. They plan to launch them from the rooftops of derelict buildings even as the unforgiving militia hunts them from below.
Will hope take flight in a crumbling world, or will their efforts devastate them all?
Origami War
Toni J. Spencer © 2022
All Rights Reserved
The chopper was upon them like a hurricane. Its blades whipped up a storm of noise and dust, picking up Penny’s short hair and flicking it wildly about.
A column of light caught them in its grip. Penny looked to Quinn, the shock on her face mirrored her own.
“Run!” Quinn grabbed Penny’s hand and jolted her forward with such muscle that whiplash disoriented her vision.
Quinn yanked Penny from the beam of light that tracked their movements. A searing pain shot down her bicep and exploded at the elbow. Shoulder stretched to the edge of popping. No time to focus on it. Above her, a pair of peacemakers slid down a rope at mesmerizing speed.
Quinn sprang onto a rusty service ladder and shot Penny a message with no words, eyes black with fear. Capture would not be an option. Then she was gone. Penny followed, pounced onto the ladder, its mottled rungs creaking under her weight, and down she went, into the inky abyss. There was no choice. It was go or be caught.
Penny slipped down the ladder as fast as she could, her feet missing and twisting as she struggled to find the crossbars. Panic culminated in fear, step by step, until she finally hit solid ground.
“Hurry,” said Quinn, a whisper in the darkness. No time for a breath.
Quinn grabbed Penny by the shirt and ran, dragging her deep into the shadows of the underpass, navigating blindly over potholes and abandoned junk.
The peacemakers followed, silent and swift, flashlights bouncing off pylons, a patter of footsteps, like wild dogs, fervently seeking their prey.
The girls popped onto the road at Water Street, buoyed by the moonlight, yet as they rounded a corner, Quinn skidded on a patch of gravel and fell to her knees. Penny, trailing by seconds, hoisted Quinn up by the waist with a strength she had no idea she possessed. Snatching Quinn’s hand, she pulled in any direction; she didn’t care as long as it was away from the peacemakers, those shadows, those black ghosts.
The pain of breathlessness sent ripples of lightning through Penny’s lungs, chest explosion imminent. Yet the peacemakers still chased, closer and with a confidence so cool and calm Penny was sure the fight was over. With less than five yards between them and as an impending sense of gloom swept over her, one of the peacemakers slipped on the same patch of gravel that had taken Quinn down, and the other ran so close behind they collided in a tangle of arms and screams.
This was all the girls needed to slip their grip, and they zigzagged silently through a maze of alleyways, stopping only when they hit the Pearl Street Triangle.
Penny had been in this area once for the flea markets back when she was younger, but there was nothing left of the landmark except a few painted cobblestones. The miniature trees that used to border its perimeter were long since dead and lay rotting in broken pots.
Quinn ushered Penny toward a graffitied roller door, which was covered in Division propaganda.
AMERICANS SERVE AMERICA!
YOU’RE THE DISEASE. YOU’RE THE PROBLEM!
DIVISION IS THE FUTURE!
PEACEMAKERS UNITE!
Quinn rolled the door up a notch and disappeared beneath it. The chopper pulsed in the sky above them, its floodlight frisking the sidewalk nearby. Penny froze in fear.
“Come on,” whispered Quinn, popping her head out from under the roller door. “You got a death wish?’
Penny grabbed Quinn’s outstretched hand and followed her new friend under the door. A flash of pain seared her knee as it slammed shut and a protruding wire hooked itself in the fold of her leg and scooped out a chunk of flesh.
Quinn’s voice came so quietly in the darkness that it felt like a dream.
“You okay?”
“I think so,” said Penny, her voice raspy and sharp, and her breath faltered to catch up. It was pitch-black in this place and smelled of gas and coffee. Her lungs ached, her knee throbbed, and her legs quivered, but she was alive. She was free. She was lost.
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Toni J Spencer is an avid daydreamer and eternal optimist. When she’s not encouraging her two children to jump on the couch, eat with their fingers, or understand the power of using swear words in context, she writes. Toni has several award-winning short stories under her belt, and once the procrastinating is done and dusted, plans to turn most of them into novels.
Despite calling New Zealand home, Toni considers herself a citizen of the world and dreams about the day when she can once again stuff her backpack full of short-shorts and furry jackets and head out in search of adventure and friends unmet.
Origami War is Toni’s first published novel and was mostly written in the witching hour during a serious bout of insomnia. She figures she’ll have plenty of time to sleep when she is dead.
