D. MacHale - Storm

Здесь есть возможность читать онлайн «D. MacHale - Storm» весь текст электронной книги совершенно бесплатно (целиком полную версию без сокращений). В некоторых случаях можно слушать аудио, скачать через торрент в формате fb2 и присутствует краткое содержание. Город: New York, Год выпуска: 2014, ISBN: 2014, Издательство: Razorbill, Жанр: Фантастика и фэнтези, ya, на английском языке. Описание произведения, (предисловие) а так же отзывы посетителей доступны на портале библиотеки ЛибКат.

Storm: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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From #1
bestselling author
comes
—the exhilarating, action-packed sequel to
:
“A relentlessly fast-paced, intriguing, expertly-written tale that leaves you breathless and satisfied, yet wanting more. Highly recommended.”
—James Dashner,
bestselling author of the Maze Runner series “Absolutely un-put-downable, more exciting than an X-box and roller coaster combined.”

, starred review “If you’re a fan of
and Alex Rider, you might want to pick up
… A fast-paced read and a huge cliffhanger.”
—EW.com “With this extremely high-octane story that’s the equivalent to a summer movie blockbuster, MacHale kicks off an apocalyptic trilogy sure to leave readers demanding the next installment.”

“This action-filled, end-of-the-world-as-we-know-it adventure… should leave teen readers clamoring for the next installment.”

“An entertaining and creepy tale.”

“MacHale pens some terrific and unique action scenes… will leave readers hungry for the next installment.”

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My palms were sweating, and my heart raced. I was absolutely confident with my decision, though it meant I was betraying my friends. Especially Tori. She had opened herself up in a way she never had before to admit that she needed me, and my response was to take off on her. Since our escape from Pemberwick Island, I had been trying to convince everyone that unless we could rely on one another, we were doomed. I was about to go against all that I had been preaching. My justification was that I didn’t want to put them in danger because of my personal mission. By going alone, I was actually protecting them.

That’s what I told myself, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was abandoning them. Whether it was smart or not, the group looked to me for guidance. It wasn’t a job I asked for or wanted, but it was mine anyway. With me gone, there would be nothing to keep them together. Tori would go to Nevada. Olivia and Kent would probably go to Florida. Who knew what Jon would do? My leaving meant they would be on their own. I hated that it had come to that, but it didn’t stop me from doing what I had to do.

I fired up the engine, jammed the car into gear, and gently stepped on the gas. I didn’t want to skid out, slinging gravel. That would have brought people running. Instead, I rolled slowly out of the parking lot with the headlights off.

Before turning onto the main road, I glanced in the rearview mirror.

The library doors remained closed. I had made my escape. It was time to stop looking back, clear my head, and focus on my plan.

After traveling halfway across the country, my driving skills had gotten way better. Still, it was tough to navigate without headlights. I didn’t dare turn them on though. Moving headlights would be seen from miles away—and from the sky.

Once on the road, I realized my second mistake. I had forgotten the map. Idiot! I had to get my head out of my butt and start thinking a few steps ahead or I’d be done before I got started. I drove from memory, retracing the route we had taken from Fort Knox to the library. Luckily there weren’t a whole lot of roads or choices to make. I drove north until I hit the intersection we had taken earlier and turned east. This road would take me back to the wide track of dirt that surrounded Fort Knox.

The SYLO base.

When my wheels finally hit the dirt of the dry moat, I drove another few minutes until I arrived at the first of the long hangarlike buildings we had passed earlier. I guessed it would be another half mile or so before I hit the road the convoy of trucks used to cross the dirt moat. I didn’t want to drive the final stretch. That would be too risky. The rest of the trip would have to be on foot, so I braked to a stop.

When I opened the car door, I spotted something in the door’s storage area. It was one of the walkie-talkies we had taken from the store in Portland. I grabbed it, though I can’t say why. I sure didn’t need it. Who would I call? Maybe it meant I wasn’t ready to admit that I would never see my friends again. It was a comfort. A small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless. I clipped it onto my belt and started walking.

Jon’s theory sounded right. SYLO must have cleared the area so that they could detect anything approaching the base. For all I knew the stretch was littered with land mines. I put that gruesome thought out of my head and pressed on.

My heart was racing so fast that I traveled the distance in next to no time. I kept my eyes on the dirt track but tried to be aware of any movement that might mean I’d been spotted. I didn’t know what I’d do if I was attacked by SYLO soldiers. Run, I guess. But to where? By the time I’d gone through all the possibilities, I spotted the dark streak that was the road into the fog. I crept up to the closest building and crouched down at the base of its wall. From there I could see both ends of the road. One end stretched back toward the burned-out buildings and field of plane wrecks, the other disappeared into the wall of white smoke.

Up until then everything had gone perfectly, but it was the only part of my plan I had control over. The rest would be left to fate. Or luck. Since the days had grown short, we had turned in early at the library. It was only a few minutes past nine o’clock. That was good. For me to succeed, I needed it dark. If I had to wait until daybreak, I was done. All I could do was wait and be patient… and hope that I hadn’t made a huge mistake.

Though it was dark, I could still make out the sheer wall of smoke that lay at the end of the road. What would I find in there? These guardians obediently protect us from the gates of hell. SYLO.

Murderers.

I wanted the truth. I wanted answers, though I didn’t expect them to be comforting. There would be no happy endings to this story. Not after so much tragedy. The most I could hope for was understanding.

And revenge.

I don’t know how long I waited there. Maybe an hour. I was huddled down to try to keep warm against the evening chill when I saw light appear and reflect off the road in front of me. I instantly went from drowsy to hyper-alert.

Something was coming from the direction of the scorched buildings. The distant rumble meant it was a truck. I peered around the building to see headlights. It was another convoy—exactly what I’d hoped for. The most dangerous and foolish part of my plan was about to unfold. When the time came, I would have to make a quick decision and hope it wasn’t a fatal one.

When the first truck rolled by, my heart jumped. It was a huge garbage truck with the SYLO logo painted on its front door. My luck was holding. The next truck rolled by. It was the exact same type as the first. I looked back to see four more sets of headlights.

The sanitation division had arrived to clean up the camp. Ever since we learned about the possibility of survivors gathering in Nevada to try to fight back, we had wondered if a group of civilians could really make a difference. We were kidding ourselves. We wanted to believe it was possible. It wasn’t. As noble as it sounded, I had no doubt that a rebel army, no matter how driven, would be crushed like helpless ants under the heavy boots of two professional armies.

I didn’t want to be a crushed ant.

I wanted to be a single bee that nobody saw coming—and that did some damage.

I examined each of the trucks as they rolled by. It was dark so I couldn’t be 100 percent sure, but I thought I saw what I needed.

If I was wrong, I’d have to crawl back to my hiding spot and wait for another chance. If I was right, the game was on.

The final truck had nearly reached me. I would have a quick second to decide whether to go or not. I looked around to see if there was any security. There wasn’t, at least not that I could tell. The last truck was nearly there. After a final glance around for anyone who might be looking my way, I put my head down and sprinted for it.

The garbage parade was moving fast. I had to calculate the angle and hit it on the first try, like chasing down an open-field runner in football. I ran for where the truck would be when I got there. When I was a few yards away, I reached out for the metal handle that was on the right rear of the massive garbage bin. Below it was a small platform. It was a place for sanitation workers to ride as they made multiple stops.

I dug in and hurtled forward while reaching out. For one brief, terrifying second I thought I’d miss it. There would be no second chance. I leaned forward, willing my fingers to grow longer. With one final burst of speed, I grabbed on and wrapped my fingers around the metal bar. I pulled myself forward and half jumped, half yanked myself up onto the small platform.

My heart was pounding and my lungs ached, but I was on and headed for the fog.

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