Khanh, first of her name, mother of bunnies > Books: dystopian‎ (67)

It was possible that Sahalia hadn’t realized she was pretty much sticking her butt in our faces. And maybe she hadn’t known just how sheer that shi

It was possible that Sahalia hadn’t realized she was pretty much sticking her butt in our faces. And maybe she hadn’t known just how sheer that shirt would get.
But it seemed to me she wanted us to see her body.
She wanted to be wanted.

Josie was a natural.
Where Astrid had that kick-ass camp counselor thing, Josie was a mom. A sixteen-year-old, middle-aged mom.

“Alex, help Jake. Figure it out. Astrid, keep the little kids out of the way.”
“Don’t stick me with the kids,” she protested. “I’m just as strong as you guys are!”
“Just do what I say!” Niko hollered.
She did.

She had on a giant pair of men’s overalls, cut off at the knee. Under them she was wearing very little. A lace bra and matching lace panties. You could see the bra through them because the sides of overalls are totally open. You could also see the lace cutting over her hip. You could almost see where it connected with the thong part in the back.

Sahalia was wearing what I can best describe as a costume. A sexy carpenter costume. Maybe a sexy farmer.

Now her behind is facing us, and they are short shorts she is wearing. So we can see … too much. We can see skin under the leg of her shorts. The creamy skin of her inner, inner thigh.
It was like a Sports Illustrated bikini-issue spread.

“I can carry a stupid sledgehammer,” she sassed.
“Well, go get it then!” Niko yelled.
She hurried to the hatch.

“Enough!” Josie said. “We get it, okay? You’re sexy and you want to have sex with these guys. We get it. But, honey, it’s not going to happen because you are thirteen. Thir. Teen. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“I’m fourteen in less than an month,” Sahalia answered.
“Go and put some clothes on,” Josie commanded her, pushing her out of the aisle.

“She’s crazy, that girl,” Robbie said. “She kept talking about how none of you think she’s a grown-up but how she is, and she wanted to prove it to you, and honestly, I was trying to get her to put back her nightgown on when that other crazy girl came with the gun.”

Hail in all different sizes from little to that-can’t-be-hail was pelting the street.

And here’s the hilarious part—it was a FORESHOCK. Apparently, that’s what happens when you’re about to experience an 8.2. It’s an earthquake so big it sends messengers ahead.

The western face of the entire island had exploded with the eruption of the volcano. Five hundred billion tons of rock and lava had avalanched into the ocean.

The explosion had created a “megatsunami.”
A wave a half a mile tall.
Moving at six hundred miles per hour.

We have breaking news. There are reports coming in of a leak. A chemical leak. Chemical warfare compounds.

“The compounds attack based on blood type. People with blood type A will develop severe blisters on all exposed skin. After prolonged exposure, the internal organs will begin to hemorrhage, leading to organ failure and death.”

“People who have type AB blood suffer from paranoid delusions and possible hallucinations.”

“There is confusion as to the effects on people with type B blood. It is possible they will suffer from long-term reproductive difficulties and sterility. But there is hope that people with type B blood suffer no consequences from exposure.”

“People with type O blood, which is the most common blood type, will become deranged and violent. Avoid these people at all costs. Containing them in a closet or basement is advised, if possible.”

“Guys, I am the QB,” he said. “That means quarterback! The quarterback is the guy on the team who calls the shots and makes sure everyone plays their best. And I’m gonna be a great QB for this team. Us. That’s why you should elect me the leader!”

Her eye makeup was all smeared around her eyes and I wondered why nobody fixed her makeup. It was CNN, for God’s sake.

They hunted for their own food and had no electricity and used wild mushrooms for toilet paper. That kind of thing. People called Niko “Brave Hunter Man

I had already overheard him reprimand Brayden for cursing (“Taking the Lord’s name in vain is a sin!”), tattle on Chloe for pushing Ulysses (“Shoving is a sin!”), and inform the other little kids that not saying grace before eating was a sin (“Before we eat, God wants us sinners to give thanks!”).

“Turn it to Tabi-Teens,” Chloe whined. “This is bo-ring!”
“Put it to Tabi-Teens!” Chloe demanded. “Or Traindawgs or something!”

“My mom once took me in the ladies’ room,” Max volunteered. “And there was this lady in there crying and she had a ice cube and she was rubbing it on her eye and she said, ‘If Harry hits me one more time, I don’t know what I’ll do,’ and then this other lady came out of a stall and she said, ‘If Harry hits you one more time, you give him the end of this to suck on!’ And she puts a real, actual gun down on the sink. Made of metal, I am not even kidding. And then my momma turns to me and goes, ‘Tell your daddy to bring you to the men’s room.’”

“Oh man, getting laid is so awesome,” Jake said, scratching his head. “It’s just absolutely the best thing ever. Once you get it, all you can think of is getting it again. Sometimes I’m having sex and I’m worried about the next time I’m gonna have sex!”
“You’ll get there, in time, Dean. You’ll discover for yourself the beautiful, beautiful world of the hot little clam.”

Astrid looked beautiful talking to them, hearing about their favorite kinds of pizza, with the wind picking up the tendrils of her hair and bringing a flush to her cheeks.

What I wanted was Astrid. She looked so good to me I wanted to take her, in a dark and terrible way.

Astrid’s body was so beautiful my throat closed up.
So smooth and wonderful and soft. She looked so soft. A sculpture of some Greek goddess awoken from cold stone into warm pulsing life.

As I watched, Astrid slid the straps of her bra onto her shoulders and fitted the lacy cups around her breasts.
My whole body was on fire for Astrid.

And there she was. So beautiful, laid out on my knees. She had her eyes closed, and for a moment, I just looked at her. Dirty face. Lips drawn together, chapped and rosy. Eyes red rimmed. The rise of her cheekbones. Eyebrows and lashes golden honey–colored. Some brown, dried freckle-dots that could be blood on her jawline.

Putting my trust in James would make me just as dumb. I couldn’t let him get to me no matter how a

Putting my trust in James would make me just as dumb. I couldn’t let him get to me no matter how amazing his abs were. Still, that sadness in his eyes—

“Sorry, I thought I’d get a run in before tonight. Did you want to use it?” Although he looked like he’d been running for hours, he barely sounded winded.

...forty-five minutes a day on the motion machine.

“That’s why he made sure [the guns] wouldn’t work for anyone but me.”
Markus looked surprised by my last statement. Oops. Guess I shouldn’t have mentioned that part.

...the last girl on Earth

I wanted to kick myself for telling him about being the sole person who could fire them.

Something was definitely hitting the door. My heart raced. This could go very badly, but I didn’t make it to seventeen by being an apocawuss. I braced myself, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.

Markus shrugged and had the nerve to smirk at me. “Guess we’re all on the same side now.”

His body was solid muscle. Sweat dripped down his face, his chest, his arms … he wasn’t just sort of cute, he was hot.

I should be angry with him, yet a small part of me liked the look on his face.

“They said that the world didn’t need another worthless child to feed and they shot her, her arms still wrapped around me.”

I turned away and lifted my shirt.

I shifted my satchel over to the other side, and lifted my shirt up a little.

Aside from my panties, the only things under this flimsy excuse of a gown were bandages.
“You put me in this gown?”

Both his hands slid down toward my hips and his lips almost touched mine. I was no doctor but this was definitely not part of any medical exam I’d ever seen.

Alec couldn’t die. Somebody as decent as him had to live. He saved the last dog on the planet. Tears welled in my eyes.

An unexpected reaction occurred and the sun kicked into hyperdrive. It began burning hydrogen like crazy, and before anyone could comprehend what had happened, the helium in the core was exhausted.

Please don’t let me catch fire.

When the ponds, lakes, and finally, the oceans had boiled and evaporated, the Consulate scientists came through with technology allowing us to glean the precious water molecules from the atmosphere.
The technology was termed Water in Air Recycling, W.A.R.

I was muy caliente, and not in the good way.
Your pink swimsuit looks muy bonita on you, she would tell me. We felt like rebels using Spanish now that it was supposed to be extinct too. Gracias, I’d respond.

Yes, it’s like Earth, minus the astronomical temperatures. Caelia’s sun is where ours was back before the ’roid hit it.” Markus smashed his fist into his palm like I needed a visual. He smirked. “People are already soaking up the rays—right next to the oceans.”

I lay down and pretended to be submerged in the cool depths as the waves crashed above me. It was somehow harder to catch my breath down here on the imaginary ocean floor. After another minute, the need for oxygen overwhelmed me. I must have done a better job visualizing than I thought.

Get a grip, Jenna, I tell myself furiously. People’s lives depend on you tomorrow, and all you can think about is snogging Max.

Get a grip, Jenna, I tell myself furiously. People’s lives depend on you tomorrow, and all you can think about is snogging Max.

‘Shut up,’ he says. ‘I hate you. I HATE YOU!’

‘What’re you in here for, anyway?’ he mumbles thickly.
‘I killed my parents.’

My head lolls to the side and darkness rolls over my vision like a wave.

The face that stares back at me has brown eyes instead of grey. The nose is smaller, the chin rounder. The cheekbones are more pronounced. And all my scars are gone.
I’m almost pretty, for God’s sake.

He’s not handsome, exactly, but he looks friendly and normal and nice; the sort of guy, if you were lucky enough to get Partnered to him, you could imagine curling up with and talking to until the small hours of the morning, and not even noticing what time it was.

‘I – just – needed – some – stuff,’ he chokes.

As he lurches towards me his eyes roll back in his head and his legs fold underneath him like a puppet that has just had its strings cut.

He’s fever-hot. Crap. Maybe he hasn’t just got a cold.
‘I’m sorry,’ he croaks.
‘Don’t worry about it. You can’t help being ill,’ I say.

‘You lying, murdering bitch.’ His eyes are shining with fury and hate. ‘All this time, I thought you were helping me. I thought you cared. And it was all lies.’

‘You don’t want me!’ he yells. ‘You want her! She’s a murderer!’

He’ll never know, now, how much I care about him. I want that moment back where he tried to kiss me. And this time, I want to let him, and I want to kiss him back.
And knowing I’ll never have that again makes me want to curl into a ball and howl.

‘So why can’t they rescue Max, then?’
‘It’s too risky. If any of the FREE operatives there were to even try to make contact with Max, our cover could be blown.’
‘That’s so wrong!’ I cry.

‘Because we deserve it,’ Dad told me.

“Let me make sure I understand—you want me to lie to my dad, turn my back on my species, my people? Do you really expect me to trust an Ancient ove

“Let me make sure I understand—you want me to lie to my dad, turn my back on my species, my people? Do you really expect me to trust an Ancient over my own family?”
“No, but I hope you’ll surprise me.”
I fix my gaze on Jackson. “Consider it done.”

“But they aren’t like us. If you look closely you can see their skin is neither white nor brown, neither light nor dark. See,” she says, tapping the screen, “it’s almost golden."

I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to think. All I know is that I’m in trouble, maybe even we’re in trouble, yet all I can think about is the way he just said my name. Ari. He says it like I’m more than just a girl who everyone recognizes but no one sees.

A single drop of liquid hits my lip, and reflexively I lick it away. My taste buds explode with flavor. A perfect mixture of sweet and sour, warm and cold.

It—he—hovers above me as light as air. A bright glow encircles him. His eyes are closed. A sweet smile rests on his perfect face.
My Ancient is Jackson Locke.

"Did you completely allow your feelings to overcome your logic?”
I grasp the wall to keep from falling.

I don’t know if Jackson overestimates the Ancients or underestimates us, but I do know they have abilities and advanced technology far beyond anything we’ve even considered.

The Australian Trinity has since been dissolved, thanks to the last leader being unable to have children to continue the legacy of the founding Australian leader.

"I know you don’t trust me, and I don’t blame you, but at least wait until I can explain.” He bends down in front of me so we’re eye to eye. “Can I count on you to keep this a secret? Just please—”
“All right,” I say.

The man I shot was named Jason Earhart, dean of the math department. But then, he was only a body.
I am wicked because the moment Jason died, the on

The man I shot was named Jason Earhart, dean of the math department. But then, he was only a body.
I am wicked because the moment Jason died, the only thing I felt was relief.
I murdered an innocent man in cold blood.

Fifteen years ago, government scientists manufactured an accurate test for morality—an obstacle course, where the simulations within proved whether a candidate was good or evil. It was named a Compass Room.

The footage of my crime rolls. Crying families outside Roosevelt College. Students and professors wailing, screaming. FBI, police, bomb squad.
All storming the school to catch one of the shooters who initiated fifty-six deaths.
All storming the school to catch me.

After the law passed, engineers updated the Rooms to kill the wicked. They became the most accurate form of the death penalty ever created.

She creeps to me, shoulders erect. Her head hangs at an angle, stringy blonde hair falling limply around her shoulders, eyes sunken in their sockets.
“Shh.” She reaches out, like she’s going to place a finger to my lips. I shut my eyes, waiting for her touch.
“Don’t tell him I’m here. I want it to be a surprise.”

Clasping her hands on either side of his head, she twists, elbows swinging as she snaps his neck in half.

Casey hacks and hacks, blood splattering across his face and clothes as he rips the knife away. He doesn’t stop, not when his dad has to be dead—again—his back nothing more than ripped denim and mangled pockets of swelling blood.
My breath rattles through the air. Nothing happens.

Fifteen years ago, government scientists manufactured an accurate test for morality—an obstacle course, where the simulations within proved whether a candidate was good or evil. It was named a Compass Room.

“I bet you’re enjoying this, dying just like her. Like you think you’re some fucking martyr,” he spits.

I was the one who kept proving myself to be a killer over and over in the Compass Room.

“Of course you wanted to kill him. We all did.”

The Compass Room is pregnant with sin. Not the ghost of our crimes, but real, pungent sin.

He doesn’t look at peace, more like a baby. A frightened baby.

He sighs and slows to a stop. “There are a lot of things about the world we live in that you don’t understand. Things you’ll find out in time.”

He sighs and slows to a stop. “There are a lot of things about the world we live in that you don’t understand. Things you’ll find out in time.”

“You are my husband, Declan Burke. I am your wife, Emma. We were married in a small ceremony with only our closest friends atop our mountain.”
“Yes, Emma, that’s right. You were absolutely beautiful.”

His arms wrap around tight and hold me as if I would run away and he could not bear it. But I will not. Not ever. I want to be with him always.

I told you to lie, She says coolly. You don’t understand yet, but you will.
I only understand that I am at war with myself, and I do not know why. One way or another, I will win.

When I look down, I find I am bound to the table by Velcro straps. Instinctively, I jerk and the bindings burn and pinch my wrists.
“What are you doing?” I ask, panicked.
“I’ll remove them when I think you’re no longer a danger to yourself.”

Those take you out of the building, She tells me. Probably to other floors, too. They’re teleportation units. Teleport. Teleporting. Teleportation. You know, teleporters.
They split you into a million different pieces and send your bits to your destination. You tell it where you want to port and it sends you there. Get it? Tell—a—port.

I recognize the acronym from one of my earlier dreams with Toni. “WTC?”
“Women’s Training Center. Where all our young women are prepared for marriage.”

“You know what I am talking about. Why do you insist on keeping my past a secret from me? If you are trying to protect me, stop. I do not need your protection. I need the truth before this gets any worse."

“The women who are fertile these days,” he continues while he stands and moves to one of his bookcases, “are only fertile into their late twenties, early thirties at most. It isn’t disease or genetics, just the unfortunate way things have progressed.”

He slaps his hands to his knees and stands. “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice. Birth control is illegal. Abortion is illegal, with a very severe punishment. Emma, pregnancy is not a choice. I’m sorry.”

A couple of nurses arrive, take our vitals, and clean up our scrapes and cuts. One uses some kind of laser to heal my knuckle.

"I see more in you than you’ll ever know. You’re so special, so extraordinary."

"I see more in you than you’ll ever know. You’re so special, so extraordinary."

“We’ll catch you, you stupid girl! You will die! Painfully and slowly!”

He told me that those who aren’t chosen will be slaughtered by an army.
A cyborg army.

4. Kiss a boy and fall in love.
It sounds so stupid, but I want to meet a boy. I want my first kiss, and I want to fall in love. But nobody can meet someone and fall in love in fifteen days, right?

Wow.
My knees actually wobble beneath me. My breath catches in my throat. All for such a small, insignificant gesture.

I saw something in you. Something more than I see in most. At 9am, meet me where you fell the first time we met. I will explain more when I see you.

I thought he liked me. I thought he’d asked me to meet him because he liked me and wanted to get to know me. But now it seems as though I’m only here because he wants me to fight with some group he’s involved in.

The land is made up of only lush, green grass and red, yellow, and white flowers.
We stay on the hill for hours, enjoying the fresh air and staring at the beautiful landscape.

Mace holds my arm and spins me around so that we are face-to-face. My hands are still looped around his neck, my fingers brushing against the bottom of his hair. We’re inches apart.

“What are you trying to do?” Cass says. “Kill her with kisses?”

“Because it’s an evil place, run by evil people,” she spits.

I clear my throat. “My name is Lilly Tanner,” I say. “There has been a mistake. My family is in the New World, and I’ve been left behind in the sector.” Lilly’s eyes fill up and I look away from her.
“Oh you poor, poor dear!” The cheery voice returns, startling me. “You must be terrified, all alone in that place. Well, don’t you worry for one second, I will send out an aircraft to collect you."

I find a small separate room, deep in the lab, where the cyborgs are tested. Right where Finn said it would be. The door is locked: Restricted Access printed in bold type and underlined on the door.

“I’m Cain, Damien’s son.”

Cass snarls and clears the distance between us in two quick steps. I duck as she lashes out at my face and my hands connect with her middle. I push her backward, but she doesn’t go far. Her face is red and she’s panting. Her hands whip out for my face again and I jump to the side. She screeches with frustration.

I think about what they’ll teach in history classes in the New World when all of this is over. I’m guessing they’ll start where we do—climate change and the reduction of the population and extinction of most of the world’s species. Then they’ll discuss how the people were spread out on what was left of the planet. And then how the sectors came about, to round everyone up and create communities where people could stay together, stay safe.

I run up and down the aisles, grabbing at anything, hardly glancing at what I am picking up. The shopping cart gets heavier and harder to push and I decide I’m done.

The authorities murdered many of the citizens in the walled sectors, cutting the population down even more.

But numbers aren’t their concern—quality is. The New World wants to start afresh: rebuild the world and do it better. They want to start again, take control, and make this world the very best that it can be.

"We were chosen,” she says, like it’s nothing. It means a lot to be chosen. It means you’re worth something. “My mom and dad are musicians. They’re really talented. My two younger sisters play, too.”

I’m pitted against Cass. She’s fierce and never slows. I jump left and right, dodge her, and avoid what would have been some pretty nasty blows. I even get one in myself, winding her. I try not to smile when she doubles over, clutching her stomach.

I nod. “Thanks. For helping me, I mean. I don’t know what would have happened to me if you hadn’t been there.”

He eases me back, feels for my face in the dark again, and brushes tangled hair out of my eyes. His touch is so gentle, so careful. “Would you like to go home instead?” he whispers.

“You shut your stupid mouth! Stupid bitch who believes these things are our friends! Do you feel friendly now?”
“Stupid bitch,” he said again.

Seriously, the elderly that had made it onto the ships had gotten crankier and ruder than I’d ever known them to be on Earth. Like there was some unspoken agreement between all of them that this was all our fault, the young people were to blame, that they deserved better in their twilight years. Lectures from some grouchy, pissed off old-erly hunched over on a cane were not uncommon. ‘Respect your Elders,’ they said. Like they wanted to teach us, to impart their wisdom before it was too late. But in my book it already was too late.

Most of the Gov officials had died in the cataclysmic failure of Earth that had come suddenly after twelve years on the precipice.

Rationing had never been necessary because more ships were built and stocked than had actually taken off.
During that time we’d taken food from other vessels and over-stocked ourselves.

there were beautiful green, yellow and pink dancing lights waving across the sky and illuminating the land below. It looked like the northern lights back home, but it was everywhere.

Straight lines, different patches, like a quilt.
Then I realized what I was looking at. Crops. Huge, rolling fields of crops. Others realized seconds after I did. Then the image got so close the plants became unmistakable. There was obviously food growing in abundance.

Almost immediately we discovered that our landing site was a nesting spot for animals about the size of a pig, with mud-colored shells, hard as diamond. The kid got to be the first to name something in our new world, and he called them Steves.
Chief had ordered a special feast tonight with some of the reserve Steves."

I supposed I was pretty-ish. Somehow, I’d grown into a girl that some boys might like to look at. But it didn’t matter.

“Oh, everyone knows me?” I asked, not understanding.
“You’re only the most popular girl on Reflection,” the girl answered.
That shut me up. I was? Not to my knowledge.

People looked at me first. Everyone assumed I was a leader so I went with it.

I whispered into Chief’s ear. “Let Legacy out, bring him to the depository. Resume removal of the weapons.”

“This girl is providing intel to the creatures after all! Behind your back, Chief!”
Chief’s face became completely composed. “I asked Hope to create those.”

“Chance said you were amazing."

Legacy paused. "The truth is I think you’re amazing."

“You’re so strong, Hope. How can you be that strong?”

I searched its eyes and I thought maybe I saw sadness.

I had no answer. We weren’t their enemy. Each session seemed so different, I couldn’t explain it.

My breath sort of stops, right there in my lungs.
Standing behind the glass...is the person I swear I’ve waited my entire life to see.

I should be mad. I should be angry and embarrassed.
Instead, all I can think is I might love this girl.

The stars are out tonight. But the stars aren’t what I want to see right now.
It’s the moon. The moon that reminds me of the moonlit girl.
My moonlit girl. She’s the cure to my nightmares, the one thing that helps me feel safe when I can’t even trust my own dreams to harbor me.
There aren’t many things I want.
But stars, I want the moonlit girl.

"...maybe there’s a chance she’s been dreaming of me, too."

He is beautiful. Shaggy brown hair sweeps across his face, and I am shocked at how bad I want to touch it.

What does [that lady] see when she looks in the mirror? Kelsea wondered. How could a woman who looked so old still place so much importance on

What does [that lady] see when she looks in the mirror? Kelsea wondered. How could a woman who looked so old still place so much importance on being attractive? Kelsea saw now that there was something far worse than being ugly: being ugly and thinking you were beautiful.

“Once upon a time, there was a kingdom called the Tearling. It was founded by a man named William Tear, a utopian who dreamed of a land of plenty for all. But ironically, the Tearling was a kingdom of scarce resources, for the British and Americans had not been fortunate in their choice of landing place."

That was what had happened to most of the books that originally came over in the British-American Crossing: the desperate had burned them for fuel or warmth.

Red hair was a recessive gene, and in the three centuries since the Crossing, it had bred slowly and steadily out of the population. Carlin had told Kelsea that some women, and even some men, liked to dye their hair red, since the rare commodity was always valuable. But after about an hour of sneaking looks at the guard, Kelsea became certain that she was looking at a true head of red hair. No dye was that good.

Dinner was venison, stringy and only barely edible after roasting over the fire. The deer must have been very old. Kelsea had seen only a few birds and squirrels on their ride through the Reddick, though the greenery was very lush; there could be no lack of water. Kelsea wanted to ask the men about the lack of animals, but she worried that it would be taken as a complaint about the meal.

To the east, Kelsea spotted what must be the house of a noble: a high tower made of red brick. Real brick! Tearling brick was a notoriously poor building material compared to Mortmesne’s, which was made with better mortar and commanded at least a pound per kilo. Carlin had an oven made of real bricks, built for her by Barty, and Kelsea had wondered more than once whether Barty had bought the bricks off the black market from Mortmesne.

...a bolt of pain arrowed all the way down to her toes.
Stabbed, she thought, dazed. Mace didn’t cover my back after all.

He stared at her without expression. “I say nothing, Lady. That’s why I’m a Queen’s Guard.”

Mace’s boot landed in the small of her back, and Kelsea bit her tongue against a scream.

But her face was as round and ruddy as a tomato, and—there was no other word for it—plain.

Kelsea woke with an aching head and a parched mouth, but it wasn’t until breakfast that she realized it was her first hangover. Despite the discomfort, she was charmed to experience something that she’d only read about in a book. An upset stomach was a small price to pay for fiction made real.

“Lady, the Mort Treaty is specific. There is no appeals process, no outside arbiter. If a single shipment fails to arrive in Demesne on time, the Mort Queen has the right to invade this country and wreak terror. I lived through the last Mort invasion, Lady, and I assure you, Mhurn wasn’t exaggerating the carnage. Before you take action, consider the consequences.”

“Well, he’s a hero to the common people, Lady. Every piece of rich man’s fortune lost endears him to the poor.”
“Does he distribute the money to the poor?”
“No, Lady.”

Kelsea took a deep breath. “I wouldn’t betray him for any number of pounds.”
“Ah, Christ.”

"We need to learn again of the hunger for Tylenols that poisoned our minds; the thirst for Cokes that weakened our bodies; the greed for Maste

"We need to learn again of the hunger for Tylenols that poisoned our minds; the thirst for Cokes that weakened our bodies; the greed for MasterCards that toppled our rulers. All this evil spawned from the worship of the false god Apple...”

I raise my eyes and lift my hands toward the heavens, as my father asks the Four Sacred Questions for the Feast of the Testing.
“Why is this night different from all other nights?” he intones.
“Because, on this night, we ask the Gods to bless our Testors as they prepare for their sacred trials.”

"The Lex clearly states that a wife follows her husband’s commands."
"A Maiden should be more solemn: let no humor cross your lips unless invited by the Gallant, Gentleman, or Lord in your company."
"I think on the admonitions for Maidens: be ever pleasing to the eye and ear."

Even though I have way more important things to be concerned with than a kiss, that moment is replaying itself over and over agai

Even though I have way more important things to be concerned with than a kiss, that moment is replaying itself over and over again in my thoughts.

The rest of my fellow travelers are all someplace else—a world with no pain, no concerns, and no stress; an enchanting, make-believe world that exists solely in their minds.

The planets, moons, and stars—is completely astounding. Luminous yellows, greens, and reds come together like large blotches of oil paint mixing together on a blue-black canvas. Pinpricks of glowing white light are scattered everywhere.

“She said that there’s an object or something inside the program that’s threatening users’ lives.”

His sandy-colored hair is cut close to his scalp, making his cheekbones stand out as much as his amber-tinted eyes.
Military academy. No doubt about it.

And don’t tell anyone what happened until I figure things out—not even your mom. You have to promise me.”

[Josh] exhales and says, “Tell me everything.”
As the wind outside continues to howl, I tell him.

When Patrick and I were in elementary school, my father used to spoil us with treats from Mo’s every Friday. After our hands became sticky with frosting or glaze, Patrick would chase me around my house, trying to tickle me.

“He hit a guy and got sent to military school. I know. He told me.”
“Hit a guy?” Patrick says, sarcastically. “He almost killed someone, Ree. Beat up a kid so badly he was in the hospital for three days.”
I snort at the accusation. It seems so exaggerated.

I gaze through the slight film of mildew covering the glass surface, looking out at Detroit’s industrial skyline on the other side of the channel. I can actually make out all the architectural details of the high-rises—the antiquated neo-Gothic and art deco designs mixed in with more modern cylinder-style layouts; the narrow spires and old Corinthian columns and pilasters.

It’s a negative ten, which means this area is a currently a red zone, so O2 shields are highly recommended.

I watch, helpless, frozen in place as he is taken away from me, sucked into the fuzzy gray wall as though he is being eaten alive by an insidious monster.

-Icon is up.
-Type in //reboot// then press //Alt+Command//

It worked.

A few seconds tick by; then Josh responds.
-Do generalized programming search, using this code //1r3c70rY5020//

-No luck.

-Try this advanced search //4DV4NC3D 534RC|-|5020//*

Suddenly rows and rows of file names start piling up on the screen.

I text Josh right away.
-Pay dirt.
-Shit yeah!

I have the exact same stunned yet overstimulated feeling I had after the demonstration at Orexis yesterday. My fingers are hot and tingling, like I just burned them on a boiling kettle. I’m standing here, staring at him again, wondering why I find it so hard to say something, or even move.

But I plant my feet firmly on the floor, refusing to give in to these feelings of doubt. As much as I care about Patrick I simply don’t think I can trust him to tell me what’s going on.

Josh reaches into his pocket and pulls out his tab, holding it firmly in his hand and gazing at me as if he’s standing by for an order. “I think I could track one down in a few hours.”
Without even thinking—about betraying Patrick, or breaking the law—I say, “Do it.”

“He’s using your father’s computer.” Josh finishes my sentence, his eyes brightening. “A three-panel quantum with touch recognition. Am I right?”
I recoil from him a little bit, mostly because I’m freaked out by how precise his guess was. “How’d you know that?”
“Patrick likes to brag. Told me all about it at the party,” he explains.

He pushes up his sleeves, and I take a nice, long look at his toned forearms and large hands. I see what he’s getting at, but again, it’s hard to picture Josh as a threat, even after what he’s told me about his past.

“Yeah, like the second he feels I’m not taking him seriously, he goes and befriends you. Don’t you think that’s a little suspicious?”
Patrick knows me so well. He’s aware of all my insecurities.

Best of all, I have someone by my side. Someone who I really want to trust—and who looks amazing in a thick winter coat.

“This is the real treasure.” Nat placed a small velvet pouch on the table. She pulled the string and showed him what was inside: tiny crystals that sparkled in the light, bright as diamonds.
Sea salt. Real salt, not the synthetic kind—which was at once too salty and not salty enough—but the real thing, from before the floods, when the world was still whole.

The latest RBEs, or “Reading-Based Entertainment,” were all composed in textlish, but Nat couldn’t quite get excited by a story called XLNT <3 LULZ.

The slavers’ language sounded brutal to her ear, a corruption, all consonants and no vowels. Then she realized they were actually speaking textlish, a language that was only designed to be written, not spoken

“How long do you think you can live like this? How long can you dance and twirl in pretty dresses knowing that people are starving and dying?”
“I gu

“How long do you think you can live like this? How long can you dance and twirl in pretty dresses knowing that people are starving and dying?”
“I guess I try not to think about it,” I said in a small voice.

“Do you not see that you will be the mistress of this house and of your marriage? That whoever you marry will be eternally grateful to you for your condescension in letting him live in your house? You will join the ranks of the Uprisen, Madeline, and your children will bear the Landry look, not that of your husband’s. I am not condemning you to a life of vassalage, but a life of leadership."

Whatever wall I had been holding against him fell away, but I steeled myself against that smile, against that warm hand, against the flight of fancy on the velvet grass. I refused to be the kind of star-crossed girl who falls in love with the eager knight.
But then I found myself smiling back.

“I have heard they are combining his going-away ball with Cara’s debut.” The bitterness in her voice was unmistakable.
“Maybe he’s just taken pity on her because her prospects are slimmer since her attack,” Father suggested.
“Oh, I do not think her prospects are dimmed at all,” my great-aunt Lacey said in a chirping voice as she used silver tongs to load more toast on her plate.

The dessert table was crowned with a giant spun sugar swan, sitting serenely in a lake of taro ice cream, kept cold and solid by a hidden nuclear-powered freezer underneath the tablecloth. Waiters circled the room with aperitifs and hors d’oeuvres. A few hours from now, their trays would be loaded with cigars, cigarettes, and sake.

The rich and the poor temporarily forgot their fight with each other and united to defend themselves.

The boundaries of race and gender and religion fell away as class became the most important delineator in society.

Strange to think that two or three hundred years ago, people still burned coal and gas for electricity, and that it took something as cataclysmic as the Eastern invasion and the ensuing treaty barring carbon emissions and oil trading to spark the new technology.

Power generation quickly became the delineator of class. Wind power, with its industrial nature, took root among the poor, with homemade turbines decorating every tiny house, factory, and small farm. The middle class favored solar power because it was easy to maintain, reliable, and more discreet than the noisy turbines. The nuclear charge—portable and immensely powerful—became the favorite of the rich, but the raw materials needed to produce it was rare, and by ten or fifteen years after the Last War, the gentry alone could afford to purchase the charges.

As the caste in charge of handling the nuclear material that powered our lives, they were both vital to the gentry way of life and an ever-present liability.

Our eyes met across the room, and I shivered, because suddenly not caring about David Dana seemed unimportant---impossible. I wanted to go talk to him. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to dance with him in the cloud of smoke and music.

My stomach churned every time he pulled her closer, his hand so low on her waist that his fingertips brushed her bustle. Once, a slender lock of hair fell into her face and he reached to tuck it behind her ear.

David reached up to touch Cara’s face, his hand moving her hair back. His fingers brushed her cheek in a gesture so tender and comforting that everything in me boiled in a furious black vacuum.
He pulled her into his lap, one armed snaked firmly around her waist, and deepened the kiss, closing his eyes completely.

“You’ve treated me like I don’t matter, like I’m perfectly willing to have my feelings trampled on a ballroom floor while you pursue whomever you please. Let me tell you one thing, David Dana, it won’t happen again. I won’t watch you kiss Cara and then saunter back to me with more flirting and more lies. I’m done hoping for something you are clearly too selfish to give.”

I want him to go.
I want him to stay.
I don’t care about him.
I can’t stop thinking about him.

The man turned and looked at me. “In my part of town, women are equals. We don’t put them on pedestals, and we don’t make them do our laundry or wash our dishes. We think of them as partners. Not princesses.”

I could feel him looking at me. Was he thinking about marriage? With me? I examined my cards to avoid looking at him. That was impossible. We had only just met.

“You’re so much more extraordinary than you give yourself credit for. And I’m not just talking about your mind. Your body too.”

Micah gives her a smile and Dyl returns the favor. Like a prize racehorse, she’s even showing teeth in perfect, pearly order. She’s passing with flying colors.

Beauty. Dyl’s worth is no longer in her looks, it’s in this strand of hair. And I’ll use my own, plain, unspectacular self to help her.

I’m a total embarrassment. My refusal to wear makeup, nice shoes, or tight clothes. My penchant for getting excited over CellTech News, my favorite holo channel. My endless nagging about her flashy dresses and too-shiny lipstick.

I point to myself and silently mouth the words What did I do? to Wilbert.
“My guess is, you’re female and you exist. Probably an alpha female thing, like wolves or rats—”

I’m not shocked by the fact she’s wearing the latest fashion from Hookers-R-Us. It’s her face.

Vera is on my floor, staring at her crotch.
Well, she’s doing yoga, but in essence, that’s what’s going on.

The tattoos. No wonder they keep changing. His body must metabolize the ink so fast that he gets a clean slate every day.

Cy’s not done. He spits on the floor again. “She’s damaged goods.”

It’s a painting of a dismembered hand, fingers stretching to extremes, but cut off at the wrist, leaning against the wall. The one next to it shows a long bone, still smeared with blood, floating in the same pale blue void the hand is in.

It warms his slate eyes just a touch, like cold butter that softens after landing on warm toast.

“Oh, you know. After you passed out, Cy knocked us out of the way to give you mouth-to-mouth. He freaking French-kissed you all the way home, in the name of saving your life. What a goddamned romantic. I had no idea he had it in him.”

Boyfriend is too limited a term for what Cy has become to me. Water? Oxygen? That might do.

I rev the engine afresh, and the char thrusts ahead with a roar. The speed is therapeutic, but does nothing to erase the memory of two very different kisses.

"I ALWAYS KNEW I WAS DIFFERENT."

"I ALWAYS KNEW I WAS DIFFERENT."

When I was three years old, I sat down at the piano and played Chopin. I don’t know where I heard it. I just knew how to place my fingers on the keys...how to make them move. Like one knows how to walk, it was just something I knew. Something I did.

All my life I heard words like gifted. Extraordinary. Blessed. When everyone discovered I possessed a voice to rival my skills with an instrument, I was called a “prodigy.”

"And as if being a music prodigy isn’t enough, when you were four years old you walked into my room and finished the puzzle that had been kicking my ass for the past week.”

“They know you’re special. That’s why they chose you. You’re not like the others—”

You have the breeding the other girls lack. Gentility, if you will...it’s important that you don’t lose that here. We’re going to train you to be tough...a skilled fighter.

Mitchell cocks his head. “Why Davy?”
Stiles studies him a moment before answering, “Your sister was an exceptional student. A talented musician and singer."

The girl who beat up Skinny snorts and mutters beneath her breath, “A freakin’ Mary Poppins. Maybe she’ll sing for us.”

...every girl at school trips over herself when he bestows that smile on them.
But he chose me.

The girls flank [Sean], talking, moving their hands animatedly with every word. They remind me of butterflies ready to launch into air. They’re so obvious in their attempts to impress this boy.

I press a hand to my chest. “I’ll never accept it.”

I’m different. The exception. It’s arrogant thinking, but all I can cling to.

A nothing who showed up here today when I needed someone most.
A nothing who marched into the bathroom when Brockman cornered me.
A nothing who picked me up when I was stranded and out past curfew.
“But you’re not nothing. If you’re saying you’re nothing, then...what does that make me?”
Dropping his arm, he turns and leaves my room. Only the echo of his voice stays behind, lingers on the air, in my head.
Perfect.

"But if you’re careful—if you protect your pawns and they reach the other side of the board, do you know what happens then? Your pawn becomes

"But if you’re careful—if you protect your pawns and they reach the other side of the board, do you know what happens then? Your pawn becomes a queen.”

“It’s frightening how much things change in seventy-one years.”

It was there to give us what we deserved so we could make the most of our natural abilities. The smartest members of society could help people in ways that IIs and IIIs couldn’t, so they earned more. It was fair, and without the test, someone who had grown up in a disadvantaged family might never have their talents recognized.

“I’m never better off without you,” he said. “We’re in this together. I love you, and that’s never going to change, all right? I’m yours no matter what your rank is. You could be a I, and I would go Elsewhere just to find you.”

I loved her, but I have a duty to my country. We all do. And I will not allow us to return to that dark time. My grandson will not go through what I did. No one ever will again.

"Silence grew between us, intercepted only by the sounds of the celebrations that raged across the observation deck, and the bustle of the hatchery beyond—the shouts of the workers, the cries of new children. I didn’t look my father in the eye as he stared at me, but I didn’t move, either. I couldn’t speak or breathe. I didn’t want to risk inciting his wrath even further."

"I should have just accepted it—believed him, believed that it would all be okay. But I couldn’t. I’d spent my whole childhood trying to tiptoe around my father, afraid to even breathe wrong. I didn’t want to spend my marriage like that too."

I’d always hated school: the uniform, the dogma. Leaving was the high point of my formative years.

One of the Rephaim was looking at me.
His gaze cleaved straight to mine, as if he’d been waiting for me to look, watching for a flicker of dissent. His skin was a dark honey gold, setting off two heavy-lidded yellow eyes. He was the tallest of the five males, with coarse brown hair, clothed in embroidered black. Wrapped around him was a strange, soft aura, overshadowed by the others in the room. He was the single most beautiful and terrible thing I’d ever laid eyes on.

“You have attracted the attention of the blood-consort: Arcturus, Warden of the Mesarthim. He has decided to be your keeper.”
“It is rare that he takes interest in a human...You are very, very fortunate.”

“Say you love me, vampire girl,” he whispered, his voice low and husky. “Tell me...that this is f

“Say you love me, vampire girl,” he whispered, his voice low and husky. “Tell me...that this is forever.”
“I love you,” I said immediately. “And if we have forever, there’s no one else I want to spend it with.”

“Puppy, I am getting so tired of listening to you whine about this,” he snarled at Zeke. “This isn’t rocket science. If you don’t want to be a monster, don’t be a bloody monster! Be an uptight stick in the mud like Kanin. Be a self-righteous bleeding heart like Allison. Or you can stop agonizing about it and be a fucking monster."

“Two lives for the rest of the world?” he continued. “Are you willing to sacrifice everything to save one and destroy another?”

“I want you to understand exactly what you are deciding, right now. If we return to the city for Jackal and Ezekiel, Sarren could reach Eden, complete whatever he is planning, and unleash a virus that could destroy everything. And if that happens, everything we’ve done here will be for nothing. Do you understand that?”

“I just want you to understand the potential consequences of tonight,” he went on. “If we are killed, if we cannot get to Sarren in time, everything could die. It will be like it was sixty years ago. You aren’t old enough to remember the days Before, but when Red Lung was at its peak, the entire world was madness and chaos. And when the rabids appeared, it became hell on earth.”

“It is...a very heavy weight to carry, Allison, the damnation of a world. I want you to be very certain, before we go any further. Is it worth it? Is he worth it?”

I already knew my answer. It was selfish, it was unreasonable, and I knew it was the wrong choice. But I looked up at Kanin, into his impassive face, and whispered, “Yes.”
“You are willing to let others die for this. To let Sarren win.”

“I’m a demon, and the sooner I take myself out of this world, the better.”

“I only have to understand one thing—I’m a demon. I may not have wanted it, but it’s what I am now.”

“This is what I am, Allison! I’m a demon—you know it as well as me.”

“I’m terrified that I won’t be able to fight this, that I’ll turn into a demon and lose my soul forever, if it’s not already gone."

“Still incredible, vampire girl,” he whispered, sounding almost like himself again. “Dangerous, beautiful and unstoppable. You haven’t changed.”

“Oh, isn’t that sweet,” came Jackal’s loud, mocking voice before I could reply. “Let’s make goo-goo eyes at each other in the middle of a stinking corpse field, how very romantic.”

“Aw, isn’t that sweet.” And Jackal sauntered into view, smirk firmly in place. “But don’t wait around on my account. It’s not like I can’t wait for yet another riveting night of listening to you people whine at each other. Oh, woe is me, I’m a vampire. I’m a horrible monster who eats babies and murders bunnies, boo hoo hoo.”