Extinct by Ike Hamill Read Free Book Online Page B

on a boat smaller than the ferry.  
    Sarah took charge. "You guys pack some rations and plenty of water. I’ll get all the first aid stuff together. Who knows what we’ll need once we’re underway.”

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    Robby went downstairs to the laundry room after his parents gathered everything together for the trip. His only contribution was to suggest they take along a few household chemicals—bleach, baking soda, rubbing alcohol. He didn’t have anything specific in mind, but he wanted to have some basic supplies along in case of a crisis. Robby also liked that he’d been consulted, and was happy to have an answer.
    He found the Norton brothers—his friend Jim, and Jim’s jerky brother Brandon—sitting on the air mattress with a flashlight between them. Brandon was playing a game on his phone, and Jim was playing with an iPod.  
    “Nice job letting go of Paulie Carver," Brandon said.
    “I didn’t let go,” Robby said. He realized too late he should have just let the comment roll past him.
    “Remind me not to trust my life to you," Brandon said. “Your friend is going to get us all killed,” he said to his brother.
    “Shut up," Jim said, under his breath.
    Brandon hauled back and punched Jim in the shoulder. The action bounced a blanket on top of the flashlight and the room was lit only by the game screens.  
    “Move over,” Robby said to Jim. “We gotta get up early.” He slid past Jim to claim the edge of the air mattress closest to the dryer. He kept on all his clothes but kicked off his shoes. Brandon bunched all the pillows on his side of the mattress. Robby’s mom had also put out a few blankets for the boys, so Robby bunched one up to use as a pillow. He couldn’t sleep. He could barely keep his eyes shut. Upstairs, the adults were still talking. Robby knew there must be more to the story—stuff his dad didn’t want to say with him around. It probably regarded Mr. Dyer’s cellar.  
    Robby thought about the cellar. His father had insisted he not look behind him. Robby wondered what his father had been protecting him from. It must be something violent, he figured. That would be the only thing his dad would want to protect him from seeing—he wouldn’t want Robby to be disturbed by seeing some gruesome result of violence. Robby had already seen a dead person. He’d seen his own dead grandmother at her wake. So this would have to be a gory death.  
    Robby closed his eyes and thought of the strange symbols on the foundation wall in Mr. Dyer’s cellar. He remembered as many as he could and made sure to recall them in their exact sequence. He’d already written them down twice.  
    Behind Robby, Jim and Brandon fought over a pillow. They both seemed younger to Robby since the crisis started. Brandon was fourteen-almost-fifteen, and normally didn’t even bother to talk to his little brother. But that day he was acting like a ten year old. Robby thought back to his own behavior. He recognized moments of immaturity. Being scared of the dark and not being able to control your bladder were certainly not appropriate for a teenager. Robby took a deep breath and let it out slowly, letting his body sink into the mattress as he exhaled.  
    The basement was cooler than the rest of the house, but Robby still wore his pants and sweatshirt, so he was comfortable enough. He tried to forget about everything from that day. His hand moved up to his throat and held the spot where his zipper had drawn blood. He drifted off to sleep while Jim and Brandon were still fighting about their sleeping arrangements.
    In the night he heard someone climbing the stairs. He looked up to see Jim going upstairs, using his iPod as a flashlight. On the far side of the mattress, Brandon snored into his own armpit.  

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    “Robby, Brandon, wake up,” Robby’s dad said. He was holding the lantern above the mattress. Sam stomped on the edge to shake them awake. “Get