The Wheel: A Young Adult Dystopian Novel (Nightfall Book 1) by Cynthia Hickey (new books to read .TXT) 📕
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- Author: Cynthia Hickey
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When I saw those…things, pale, skinless creatures that ran on two long back legs and two shorter front legs, I wanted to shout no, that I’d never be ready. Instead, I grabbed the map and shoved it down the front of my shirt.
“Go stand by the door.”
My hands shook as I undid my seatbelt and staggered toward the opening in the side of the machine. A little way ahead of us, I saw a large, cleared cement area. My guess that it was our target was confirmed within seconds as we hovered over a lot filled with dried weeds.
“You have five seconds to get out of my plane.”
I dropped the helmet, took a deep breath, and jumped.
3
I landed hard. My knees buckled, and I hit the pavement hard enough to knock the breath out of me as if I’d been rammed in the stomach with a board. I’d managed to get the chute open just in time to slow my fall. Trying to ignore the fact those…things were out there, I fought to control my breathing while fighting with a nylon chute intent on keeping me in its cocoon.
By the time I unwrapped myself, the flying machine was gone. Nothing moved. I heard nothing but the wind through the tall weeds and broken buildings. Sitting up slowly, I peered around, then stood, quickly rolling my chute into a tight wad that would fit under my shirt.
The tall buildings cast the day into further darkness, the only light came from fires that still burned after a century. I’d heard tales of the unearthly fires, but had never seen them. They didn’t look any different than the one that burned in our hearth at home.
I plunged my hand down the front of my shirt and pulled out the map. It showed the way across the lot I now stood in and through two tall buildings. Then a left, then a right, then another right. I had no idea how I’d know the final place when I reached it and hoped someone would be there to greet me.
A shrill shriek sent me running across the dried grasses. My boots landed with dull thuds on what had once been all concrete but nature had quickly reclaimed with foliage rising through the cracks. Another shriek came from my right. What if those things waited for me in the shadows? No one would be there to help.
My throat threatened to seize as I pulled my sword and continued as fast and quietly as I could. Things I couldn’t see scurried through the weeds. Something clanged ahead of me. I wouldn’t be deterred. I increased my pace, staying in the middle of what was once a road and stopped periodically to hunker down behind a hunk of twisted metal to gather my wits and take stock of my surroundings.
My stomach rumbled, reminding me it had been a few hours since I’d eaten. I dug in my back and grabbed a stale biscuit. Not knowing how long until a food drop, I needed to make what I had last as long as possible. Getting to my feet, I walked as I nibbled, my ears strained to hear, and my eyes open to see.
Something darted across the road in front of me. The bite of biscuit stuck in my throat. I covered my mouth and coughed. A shriek sounded again, this time closer. I barely got my sword out before…it…jumped at me. Something pale and pink, half human, half beast, with large fangs, big eyes and ears, and a smell bad enough to knock you over.
I fell backward, sword held upright. The Malignant impaled itself on the sword. Dark blood spilled from its gut. I gagged and rolled away, yanking my weapon free. I kicked the offending creature. “You aren’t so bad all on your own.” The problem was there was more of them scuttling through the buildings.
A quick glance at the map, and I continued toward my destination. Slow going with piles of debris and ancient vehicles blocking my path. Shadows darted past open windows of buildings long empty of human occupation. I’d never felt lonelier in my life.
Remembering Alga’s warning not to cry, I squared my shoulders, blinked back tears, and continued my race toward what I hoped was safety and companionship. I careened around a corner and ran smack into a hard vest-covered chest. Reaching for my sword had become second nature.
“Whoa, there, shrimp.” A young bald man with a few days of stubble on his face grabbed my wrist. He looked to be a few years older than myself. “No need to kill me. I think we’re on the same side.”
I narrowed my eyes and sheathed my sword. “How did you find me?”
“A helicopter is hard to miss.” He grinned.
So, that’s what it was called. It surprised me that I hadn’t seen a photo of one in the books I’d read. “For you and every Malignant within five miles. I’m Crynn Dayholt.” I thrust out my hand.
He glanced at my blood-covered hand. “I’ll pass on the shake. Name’s Fawke Newton. You’re smaller and younger than our last leader, but you’ve obviously seen action and survived. Follow me.”
“Your mother misses you.”
Pain flickered across his strong face. “No more than I miss her. I’ve only two more years and I can be rid of this place, maybe.”
“You’ve been here for eight years?” My eyes widened.
He nodded. “A few of the other Stalkers have been here longer. With a criminal past, they’ve been assigned this
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