Preview of Chapter 1 from The Laurentian War
meet Arlo and Nahla as their dynamic begins to unfold
As he entered Odetro, a blaring siren sounded through the streets. A red countdown clock set for midnight stained the glass of the tallest buildings. A blockade erupted from the ground behind him, shielding the entrance to the city. Yellow warning signs flashed along the front of the blockade as an electric car came screeching to a stop and died as it approached — wheels locked, lights turned off, and heads-up display disabled. An obviously displeased man got out shouting, pounding the translucent barrier with his fists.
“Shit, curfew already,” Arlo muttered to himself as he quickened his pace. The murmur of the city quieted with the announcement — cars on the highways disappeared, the newscast went dark, and no one roamed the streets. Arlo’s shoes clicked and his heart thumped, curtailing the silence of the night. As he passed dark alleyways, groans and moans of the homeless arose from the vents in the ground. With curfew, they weren’t allowed to roam the streets, so they’d been forced underground, into the lower district where illegitimate traders and thieves dwelled. It was known an entire network of shadow market manipulation, weapons manufacturers, insurgents, and illicit substances lined the walls of the underground, but GL enforcement never seemed to find any solid evidence — so they were left alone.
He was near the central plaza now. The signs of the shoddy markets lining the street were left on but remained unoccupied. The normal vendors selling trinkets of copper and silver abandoned their carts for cover. Only the buzz and flicker of lights and the machination of an automatic street cleaner sucking up paper and plastic remained in the open. Arlo had heard stories of what happened after curfew in Odetro, most including blood and violence, but he didn’t want to be the one to find out. Frankie Lano, a former star cyberball player who loved to party, got caught stumbling into the city during curfew a few months back. The next time he was seen, he walked with a severe limp, half of his face drooped, and he could only speak briefly in between long wheezes.
He picked up his pace along the plaza, sticking to the sidewalks. The quiet echo of police sirens wailed in the distance as the countdown clock dwindled down to ten minutes and counting. Screams would erupt from the underground vents, guttural, ear-piercing, and damning, causing Arlo to jump every few alleys. The hairs on his arm and neck stood on end as the shadows loomed and grew darker under the dying lights.
He passed an alley absent of any noise, where the shadows seemed to move. There was no scream this time, but a cutesy laugh trickled through the darkness. Arlo stopped. He could just barely hear the plodding of feet from the end of the alley and make out a slight silhouette.
“Nahla,” he called out, “is that you?” Another laugh rang out, this time louder, and much closer. “I just wanted to make sure you got home alright.” Now that he thought about it, he didn’t know why he followed Nahla into the city. He lived uptown and could’ve taken the limo back or hitched a ride up the superhighway avoiding downtown entirely. Before he could come to a reasonable conclusion, another siren shrieked through the empty plaza.
“Curfew is now being enforced. Please remain indoors. Please remain indoors,” a robotic voice repeated. A spotlight beamed down from the sky from a flashing blimp and methodically scanned the plaza. From the center of the plaza over a supplement cart, along the sidewalk peeking into ramen and athleisure shops, to the foot of the towering ground advertisements.
Arlo ducked into the alley where darkness pressed into his eyes. He felt his surroundings: grime-covered brick to his sides, the spotlight roaming behind him, and a dim light coming from the end of the alley. A warm breeze from the vents swirled around him, hugging his staggering legs. His heart pounded in his ears betraying his urge to be completely silent. A slow drip of water trickled onto the pavement, whispering.
“Arlo.” He spun around, clutching the wall. Nothing. He crept backwards keeping an eye on the still roaming spotlight surveying the plaza. Again, a whisper, “Arlo,” he could hear, hushed. He turned away from the spotlight and towards the end of the alley.
“Just keep walking,” he murmured to himself, “not even a peep.” Before he could take another step, he felt a graze along his neck and down his lower back. He swatted at his neck and flailed his legs out to deter the potential predator. Still, it circled around him, swallowing him whole in the darkness.
“Looking for me?” a hushed voice whispered in his ear. The soft touch of long nails traced his ear and along his chin to his mouth. He whipped around again and caught a glint in a pair of thick framed glasses with a soft glow of golden skin illuminated by the spotlight shining down through the alley. Nahla pulled Arlo into the shadows, close to the wall, out from the spotlight and pinned him to the wall, standing nose to nose. “Don’t make a noise,” she said with a peck on his lips, “follow me, it’s not safe.”
“555, this is me,” Nahla said as she unlocked the door. The dainty décor of the apartment was blinding compared to its dark and dingy outer layer. A light, fragrant vanilla wafted through the air complemented by a hint of stale wine from the left open bottles crowding the countertops of the kitchen. The bed, sitting in the right corner, was made nicely as if no one had slept in it for a few days. The pillows didn’t even have an indention where the head would go. A burnt orange sectional sat nestled in the left corner, just past the small kitchen, facing a muted television. Two paintings hung on the back wall: one abstract with blotches of blue, green, and brown splattered across the canvas; the second, Renaissance era, depicting languid scholars draped in blood-stained cloth, stumbling to the foot of the fountain of youth. Green-haired cherubs floated around the fountain, almost mocking the decrepit. Between the two paintings was a window, or a one-way mirror Arlo figured, since it didn’t seem the people sauntering past could see into the apartment.
Nahla danced about, spot cleaning along the way, tossing clothes to a basket in the corner of the room, discarding supplement packaging, and re-corking bottles. Arlo stood just inside the door awkwardly, not wanting to intrude on the pristine nature of the studio. The rugged nature of the underground faded in his mind as he took in the new surroundings. Nahla waved her hand in the air and a smooth lo-fi tune floated through the room from a radio to the right of the entrance. Amid her floaty housekeeping, Nahla had poured herself a glass of deep red wine.
“Make yourself at home,” she said from the kitchen, inviting him further into the apartment. Arlo kicked off his shoes at the door and hung his jacket on a hook to his left, next to her keys. She slinked her way to Arlo, meeting him in the middle of the room, swinging her hips, glass in hand. She held the glass to his lips, he drank, and she tipped further, and he drank some more. She set the glass down on the counter and draped her arms around his neck. Her eyes were level with his as they slowly danced to the music, her long, slender nose touching his. Arlo swayed with the music, the breeze of inebriation aiding him.
The longer and slower they danced, the more his confidence grew. His hands slid lower and lower down her back the closer their bodies got. She made the first move with a light kiss on his lips and tried to drift away. Arlo, unsatiated, wanted more. He braced her close, and with a kiss of passion, slowly unzipped her dress. With another wave of a hand, the music grew louder, and the lights went out. She unbuttoned his shirt and pulled him by the tie to the bed, their lust strengthening in the dark. Her white smile, golden complexion, and dark beady eyes shone brighter in the dark. A flurry of hot and heavy limbs and lips tumbled onto the bed. A stripped Nahla sat atop Arlo, finally stripping him of shirt and tie. She leaned in for another kiss and in the same motion, restrained his hands together with the tie and pushed his head back to the bed.
“I’ll be right back,” she said, suddenly hopping up and running to the bathroom. He nodded and stared at the ceiling, allowing a dormant, yet invigorating, passion to build in her absence. She came back, now dressed in dainty, lilac lingerie, illuminated by the bathroom light. In her silhouette, Arlo could see she was holding rope in her left hand and something he couldn’t quite make out in the right. “Relax,” she said, spreading his legs, “this should be fun.” Nahla stripped him of his fancy leather shoes, peeled his pants off, and tied his legs to the bedposts. She continued her ascent, gliding her hands along every inch of his body.
“You’re mine now,” she whispered in his ear. She closed his eyes softly with her hand, and with sudden force, stuck a sock in his mouth. The item she held in her right hand became clear to Arlo as he felt a sharp edge on his throat. His breathing quickened and he began to panic, but he couldn’t move under the weight of Nahla and his restraints. “The more you struggle, the worse it’ll be,” she spat, her demeanor now absent of the lust intoxicating them just moments before. He struggled, trying to flail his legs as dread and panic set in. She pressed the knife tighter to his neck, threatening to break skin. Still, he resisted. She got up from the bed once more and laughed as he tried to scream with his mouthful of sock. She grabbed the glass of wine from the counter, plugged his nose, and poured.
“That should calm you down,” she said. He had no choice but to swallow as the sedative slowly trickled through the gag. An ocean of creeping drowsiness washed over his body, and he could no longer resist. She sighed, running the blade lightly along his skin. Arlo, defeated, sunk into the bed.
This is a sneak peek at the first chapter of the novel I’m currently working on, titled The Laurentian War. I hope to have this finished by the end of the year as I can’t wait to share the world I’ve created. Subscribe to my substack to keep up on the latest regarding this novel with the link below!
