Remnants 13 - Survival by Katherine Alice Applegate Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Katherine Alice Applegate
oysters on the half shell.
‘Cause you’re looking at the mother of all slime picnics.’>>
“I hate shellfish,” Tate said.
<> Yago said. <>
Tate didn’t look up. “Where’s the other one?”
<>
“I can’t — I don’t know how….” Tate stopped running. She wasn’t sure if it was best to go forward or back or just stay where she was. “When I feel threatened, it just happens —”
<>
“I — I don’t want to eat them,” Tate managed to get out. “Who knows what I’d be letting into my head?”
<>
“You don’t know that —”
Tate didn’t have time to finish the thought.
Duncan — or whoever, whatever — began to drip off the ceiling as a fine mist. The tiny droplets fell on Tate’s shoulders. On her head.
Tate saw a bright burst of flame. The smell of burning hair reached her nostrils.
“Ahh!” Tate batted at her hair. She shook her head like a wet dog. The flames went out. But the mist was still falling.
<>
Busy with her hair, Tate had stumbled into a thin layer of slime. Where had that come from?
She froze in horror, looking down at her feet. Her rubber soles began to smoke and then melt into a whitish puddle. The heat leaped up around her ankles. The nylon upper began to melt.
<>
No way out…
Something was happening.
The red vision. The tongue. The teeth.
Tate tried to resist, tried to hold on, but she felt herself slip away. Then there was only the bright-hot ecstasy of teeth grinding together.
“Whoa — ho — ho!” Duncan laughed in Amelia’s head. “What have we here? Interesting, very interesting — so primitive. Primal, almost, wouldn’t you say? Nothing like the mutation I had.”
Tate’s transformation wasn’t as violent as Amelia had expected. Tate still sort of looked like Tate — only her head and mouth and teeth were bigger Yes, the teeth were much bigger Up on the ceiling, Duncan was withdrawing, pulling himself away from the gaping Mouth that was snapping at him like a rabid dog.
“Lots of pieces.” he advised Amelia. “Get into lots of pieces so she can’t get her teeth into you.
Well, well, that was fun. I guess I finally bugged her enough — Amelia, what are you —”
Amelia had formed herself into a ball once again. Now she zoomed past Duncan, heading straight for Tate’s snapping jaws.
CHAPTER 9
<> The Mouth bit down on the Enemy. The Enemy was slippery. It slid down her throat almost eagerly. The Mouth gulped and gagged. Too much, too big … But the Enemy would not come up. The Mouth swallowed and…and …
Tate stumbled. She saw the floor. Smelled smoke.
<> Yago’s voice.
“Sleep,” Tate mumbled. “I need sleep.”
<> Not Yago’s voice. Tate felt her head jerk up and her eyelids open wider. She hadn’t moved them. Someone else was controlling them.
“Amelia?” Tate asked warily. She struggled for control of her body. Her eyes and head responded, but her feet began to twitch oddly. Her right foot — oh, agony. The pain was radiating up her bones into her legs. She did not want to move her foot. “Stop it!”
<>
Definitely Amelia.
Tate moaned low. “I told you this would happen,” she said,
<> Yago said arrogantly.
Amelia laughed. <
‘Cause you’re looking at the mother of all slime picnics.’>>
“I hate shellfish,” Tate said.
<
Tate didn’t look up. “Where’s the other one?”
<
“I can’t — I don’t know how….” Tate stopped running. She wasn’t sure if it was best to go forward or back or just stay where she was. “When I feel threatened, it just happens —”
<
“I — I don’t want to eat them,” Tate managed to get out. “Who knows what I’d be letting into my head?”
<>
“You don’t know that —”
Tate didn’t have time to finish the thought.
Duncan — or whoever, whatever — began to drip off the ceiling as a fine mist. The tiny droplets fell on Tate’s shoulders. On her head.
Tate saw a bright burst of flame. The smell of burning hair reached her nostrils.
“Ahh!” Tate batted at her hair. She shook her head like a wet dog. The flames went out. But the mist was still falling.
<
Busy with her hair, Tate had stumbled into a thin layer of slime. Where had that come from?
She froze in horror, looking down at her feet. Her rubber soles began to smoke and then melt into a whitish puddle. The heat leaped up around her ankles. The nylon upper began to melt.
<
No way out…
Something was happening.
The red vision. The tongue. The teeth.
Tate tried to resist, tried to hold on, but she felt herself slip away. Then there was only the bright-hot ecstasy of teeth grinding together.
“Whoa — ho — ho!” Duncan laughed in Amelia’s head. “What have we here? Interesting, very interesting — so primitive. Primal, almost, wouldn’t you say? Nothing like the mutation I had.”
Tate’s transformation wasn’t as violent as Amelia had expected. Tate still sort of looked like Tate — only her head and mouth and teeth were bigger Yes, the teeth were much bigger Up on the ceiling, Duncan was withdrawing, pulling himself away from the gaping Mouth that was snapping at him like a rabid dog.
“Lots of pieces.” he advised Amelia. “Get into lots of pieces so she can’t get her teeth into you.
Well, well, that was fun. I guess I finally bugged her enough — Amelia, what are you —”
Amelia had formed herself into a ball once again. Now she zoomed past Duncan, heading straight for Tate’s snapping jaws.
CHAPTER 9
<
Tate stumbled. She saw the floor. Smelled smoke.
<
“Sleep,” Tate mumbled. “I need sleep.”
<
“Amelia?” Tate asked warily. She struggled for control of her body. Her eyes and head responded, but her feet began to twitch oddly. Her right foot — oh, agony. The pain was radiating up her bones into her legs. She did not want to move her foot. “Stop it!”
<
Definitely Amelia.
Tate moaned low. “I told you this would happen,” she said,
<> Yago said arrogantly.
Amelia laughed. <
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