Intended Extinction by Greg Hanks Read Free Book Online Page B

valley—I wish I could visit for a day or two.”
    Hearing her talk of her childhood only brought stained images of mine. But somehow I was captured by her voice, her cute laugh, and her love of the world.
    After the death of her parents, she went to live with her aunt in Manhattan, who was almost nonexistent—too busy being an alcoholic and a drug addict. For that reason, her sister Olivia took up the reins of raising her and her brother, Taylor. When Olivia turned eighteen, they moved in with a friend from school. It was a million times better, Tara said, then being constantly disregarded and looked upon as if she were a pile of vomit on the floor.
    After the move, things started looking up. She found new life through school, friends, and a healthy environment. She eventually found work as a journalist. I smirked and envisioned a stereotypical Hollywood reporter.
    “So you were uncovering all the big scandals?” I asked.
    “If new Broadway plays and temperature ratings were scandals, then yes, all the big scandals.”
    I laughed and felt something flush within my body. It was warm and mimicked a rollercoaster dip.
    “I’ve told you my story, Wenton, now let’s hear yours,” she said, gazing at me.
    “Wait . . . your brother and sister . . . are they—”
    “No,” she said, her smile fading into a frown, “no, they’re gone.”
    Living in a world where death had become nonchalant, there wasn’t much of an awkward silence. I too had lost my family to Edge; it wasn’t something new.
    I sort of smiled, but in a sympathetic way. “Edge took my family, too. They’re all gone.”
    Tara shifted in her chair and said, “Edge didn’t take my sister, though.”
    My eyebrows creased inward. “What do you mean?”
    “It was an accident,” she said. “A year before Edge went worldwide; there was an explosion at one of GenoTec’s branches in Long Island. It killed a hundred and fifty people.”
    Before I could answer, commotion from the entryway grabbed our attention.

8
    “They’re here!” someone shouted. “They’re here!”
    It happened like clockwork. Vax had arrived.
    Tara beckoned me and we rushed toward the exit, passing numerous people heading to the same goal. We breached the magnificent doors and the cool, May air licked our skin. I peered down the street to find at least eight semi-trucks, taking their places like automated machinery. Crowds started to form around the trucks, sucked in by tractor beams.
    Tara became giddy as we reached the crowd of excited survivors. Her attitude toward becoming part-time GenoTec servants might have been a little more eccentric than mine.
    “Do you think Slate will award us with anything?”
    “Yeah, a big trophy with your name on it,” I chuckled. “In big letters.”
    “Wait, here come some men. There it is! The Vaxiniminator! Or wait . . .” She stopped and double-checked the instructions again, while I laughed.
    The two men down the road carried a large metal cube with engravings near the top. They hoisted it on their shoulders and began their march toward the Turnmont.
    “ GenoTec Corporation ,” I read, “ coming up with better ways to save your life .”
    We followed them all the way into the lobby. They set the cube down with a metallic clank. By now, crowds of people were gathering around the assemblers. I felt around in my back pocket for the Collector.
    With four beeps and a whoosh, the metal cube opened and the two tree trunks grasped and lifted the contraption. Every eye was on the Vaxinator.
    Then it hit me.
    Vax was a cure. It was real.
    I don’t know why it took me so long, but the idea struck me harder than ever. With GenoTec delivering these to every part of the world, we could punch a hole through this thing. I started to get antsy.
    I watched as the Volunteers brought the symmetrical, slot machine mechanism to one of the walls in the lobby. Once they suctioned the box, the silvery words “Vaxinator” spread across the top. One guy