Remnants 13 - Survival by Katherine Alice Applegate Read Free Book Online Page B

schedule.>>
    “Schedule?” Tate said angrily. “You want to make a schedule for controlling my body?
    What are we going to do — tack it up on the fridge? Review it at our family meetings?”
    The burst of anger kept her alert as long as she was talking, but as soon as she finished, she began to feel limp with fatigue. Sleep. She needed sleep Tate sank cross-legged onto the floor and rested her head in her hands. Her foot was throbbing dully.
    She was already nodding off when her eyelids moved slowly upward, offering her a view of her fingers.
    <> Amelia said determinedly.
    Tate didn’t need to close her eyelids to fall asleep. Her eyes had already rolled back in her rather crowded head.
    Tate dreamed.
    She was floating above the gray Earth. She would have been at tree height had there been any trees. The landscape was nothing but dirt. Lifeless. A cemetery for her friends, and the seven billion who had died before them.
    Such a sad place. Such a lonely place.
    Then Tate’s eyes picked up movement. She strained, trying to see what it was. Her vision shifted, she saw them — bands of people marching steadily toward some distant object. They were like believers moving toward Mecca. Or wildebeests converging on a water hole.
     
    Primitive. Matted hair. They wore furs, bundles of shapeless clothing. They looked exhausted
    —. shoulders hunched forward, eyes on the ground.
    Tate scanned the horizon, trying to unlock the puzzle, anxious to see where they were going
    — but there was nothing on the horizon but dust.
    Tate woke to the sound of arguing.
    <> Yago was saying, <>
    Sensations began to flood in. Her right foot was throbbing hotly. She avoided looking at it, imagining her burned skin.
    Her neck ached. Someone was trying to turn it and succeeding only in making her twitch painfully. Amelia. Judging from the ache in her muscles, Amelia had been twitching them for hours.
    “Cool it, Amelia,” Tate said irritably.
    <> Amelia said in a huffy tone. <>
    <> Yago interrupted. <>
    “Why?” Tate asked warily. Her drowsiness was falling away and she was starting to feel scared again. Amelia was right. Two more slime monsters were still out there. She couldn’t run on her foot. It felt as if someone had drilled a hole straight through it. If Duncan and Charlie attacked, she was toast.
    <> Yago muttered. <>
    <> Amelia interrupted. <>
    <> Yago put in. <> Tate agreed. Vehemently. But she didn’t like Yago and Amelia giving her orders. “The Mouth just appears,” she said peevishly. “I can’t control it.”
    <> Amelia said.
    Tate felt like telling Amelia where to go. But then she imagined another voice added to the chorus in her head. Psycho Charlie. Arrogant Duncan. Or — oh, god — maybe even both of them. Not a happy thought.
    Then came the smell.
    Matches. Sulfur. Something burning.
    Faint now, but growing stronger.
    <> Yago asked urgently.
    <> Amelia said, and she sounded much calmer than Tate felt. <> Tate didn’t trust anyone who promised to take care of everything. Besides, she didn’t know how to let go of her body. And, if she could do it, she wondered if she’d ever be able to wrest control back from Amelia.
    She looked around. Was that a glistening patch on the ceiling off to her left? Yes, she was quite certain it was. Duncan