Gods of Anthem by Logan Keys Read Free Book Online Page B

in bad, and a half in good.” He sighs. “Dat place not want you. Spat you right back out, yeah? Dat other place did, too, dat hot one. So you stuck in da middle here wit us. But either way, a gel like dat, she won’t even do what da gods want.”

Twenty
    I’d forgotten about my hair. Or lack of it. I’m standing in line at the place with lockers for the deceased, and everyone’s staring with round eyes, afraid to catch whatever I’ve got.
    My bald head’s like a neon sign: I’m sick! Stay back!
    We’d exited the tunnel to crane our necks at the newly erected walls of undecorated concrete as high as the tallest building. The tops were wide enough to build a house across, and all of it stood to separate the city from the wilds of America teaming with millions of undead.
    Our train had bisected an opening set several miles out in the water. Each broad side had been carved into figures (like Mount Rushmore, only with part of the torso chiseled in, as well) as large as skyscrapers—one of a woman, the other a man—watching us approach with steely eyed resolve.
    Desi had to prod me from the platform, I was so busy staring. The citizens wore black or grey—dove grey at the lightest. Even little girls wore plain, straight frocks, no frills, hair woven in a single braid.
    He was gawked at, too, for his bright clothing.
    “Can you get into trouble?” My whisper felt like a yell.
    “Probably.” He shrugged and grinned.
    Desi had dropped me off at the depot after giving me his cousin’s address, saying he’d check on me later before he left the city. He’d seemed eager to see his family, and to probably change his clothes, since it was becoming increasingly clear he was breaking some type of rule.
    Alone….
    Again.

    “Liza Randusky? … Liza?”
    “Yes, that’s me.”
    A lady with charcoal-lined eyes stares at me with a bored expression. She hands me a box. It’s not very big.
    “Is this—?” I fight through the lump in my throat. “Is this … for both?”
    She raises two thinly drawn eyebrows. Donning her reading glasses, she reads the label aloud—both my parents’ full names—before giving me a questioning look.
    My nod’s slow from embarrassment, and she pushes the box toward me with an expression that says: Well, all right, then. Get out of here, sick girl .
    What’s left of my family, what’s left of my whole world, I hug tightly to my chest in response. People move out of my way, some pulling their children protectively behind themselves before the double doors release me back onto the sidewalk and out into the smoggy, loud city. Sunlight begins to leave its zenith, turning Anthem into a forbidding shadow.
    Left then right, everywhere I look seems the wrong way. My parents’ items shift with each step through the sea of people.
    It’s not difficult. They all part away from me.
    I’m a hazard.
    And their lives are so precious.

    The trip’s only ten blocks south and then three east, yet before long, I’m panting with more than simple exhaustion. An empty alleyway offers me a break from the endless stream of citizens making me dizzy. On the ground with my box, eyes closed and head back against the wall of the building, it’s tempting to simply wait for a solution to arrive.
    Watching the sky darken is more interesting than getting up, so that’s where I stay.

    When darkness descends, the noise cuts like the city’s been suffocated. With the box in hand, I’m sorted enough emotionally to start my way again, but an empty city is what greets me.
    When I exit the alleyway, there are no lights, no cars—nothing. A ghost town has descended, without even the wind blowing through now.
    The moon hides tonight, making the way almost pitch-black dispersed only by layered shadows. I take the direction from before, and the urge to check behind rises along with my heart rate, and paranoia makes me imagine a slithering sound in the darkness.
    It’s impossible to read the directions, so I’m hoping