Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 117246 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117246 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
I snorted. “They sound fun.”
“They are. Mostly.” He nudged me with his shoulder. “Now it’s your turn. Enlighten me, please. Tell me all about Arden Roosa.”
“It’s just my mom and me.” Once, though, there’d been four of us. My chest squeezed. Soon after the death of my sister, Amelia, my dad took off. “Mom is my best friend.”
“I love that.” Shiloh beamed, as if I’d given him a long-awaited gift. “I’m twenty-three years old, and I’m working as a medic.”
Oh, how interesting. “What field?”
“Nope.” He shook his head, a lock of hair falling over his brow. “Give me my tat. Age and vocation or subject of study.”
Silly, charming man. “I’m twenty. I’ve worked a ton of odd jobs the past two years.” Everything from calling citizens to inform them of delinquent tax payments to manning an assembly line of meal bars. The world’s most tasteless but affordable staple. I’d even monitored the robot-dog camera feed for a time. “My passion is agriculture.” I offered no more, merely arched a brow, demanding a response to my previous query.
He braced, as if expecting a blow. “I specialize in . . . the Madness.”
Clearly, he expected me to freak out. Maybe run from him. Many medical professionals avoided anything related to the Rock, too afraid of becoming infected themselves. “That’s an interesting choice.”
At my lack of dismay, he sighed with relief. “My grandparents were killed during the Great Regret. I’ve made it my mission to find out why and how to prevent such a tragedy from ever occurring again.”
“That’s awful. Not your mission,” I clarified, “but your loss.” The Great Regret was a terrible stain in our history. A time when a myriad of infected broke at once, murdering thousands of innocents in a very short period.
“It really is. I have so many questions. Why does the infection incubate faster in certain hosts? What causes people to ultimately break? Is there a way to make treatment more humane?”
His enthusiasm warmed my heart. And, since he’d clarified for me, I did the same for him. Leaning closer as we walked, I said, “I’m determined to solve the Soil and Seed Anomaly. For me, there’s nothing more satisfying than watching tiny seeds mature into a big crop. When my hands are in the dirt, I’m single minded.” Unwavering. “There’s no world outside of what I’m doing.” Little frightened me. I tasted a measure of genuine peace, and oh, it was divine.
“I know I only just met you,” he said, his words heartfelt, “but I have a feeling you’ll succeed.”
Pleasure gave my steps a little extra pep. “Agriculture fascinates me. Have you ever seen an apple? A tiny seed contains everything needed to produce an entire orchard. And nature isn’t the only one to experience such a miracle. Honestly, I see seedtime and harvest in everything now. A thought ripens into words, then actions, then character. Even human beings start with—” Oh, no, no, no. I did not just go there. “I’ll stop babbling now.”
“Please don’t.” He looked at me as if I’d threatened to trash his new favorite toy. “Have a food with me and tell me more. Tell me everything.”
“A food?” I laughed outright.
“Any food. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, or dessert. Or a drink. Coffee. Water. All of it at the same time.”
I snuck a glance at him through my lashes, a wee bit befuddled by his enthusiasm but also soaring. The few guys I’d dated had played it cool from start to finish or propositioned me outright. There’d been nothing in between. “Like, an official date with you? Today?”
“Very much an official date,” he confirmed with an emphatic nod. “Now. Please.”
I mean, I’d probably never see him again. But it wouldn’t hurt to—
A guttural scream pierced the air. Everyone paused, including us. I didn’t dare to breathe as my insides twisted into sickening knots and the scope of my world constricted.
Someone had just broken with Madness.
Another scream preceded a series of grunts and groans. The crowd surged into action. Bicyclists sped away. Citizens with enough extra trills to rent a motorized vehicle burned rubber, some swerving to avoid pedestrians, others crashing into people and parked cars. People on foot hurried to the nearest light stand—a steel pole stationed at select street corners, topped by a cluster of pritis stones, the only thing capable of repelling a maddened.
Right now, the golden light projected by the pritis offered the only safe haven, but available spots were filling up fast. I tried and failed to force my legs into motion. Gurgling sounds left me.
Thankfully, Shiloh understood my dilemma, swept me off my feet, and sprinted to a luminous sphere. He scored us a spot in front of the crowd, standing me up to ensure both our bodies fit within the glow of illumination.
I clutched his hand, my gaze darting. Air hitched in my lungs when I spotted the infected. A teenager with wild eyes, a manic expression, and torn, blood-soaked clothing. He scaled the Rock with ease, displaying unnatural strength, incredible speed, and a strange, otherworldly mix of fluid grace and human awkwardness. Every few seconds, he paused to lick the stone and shout “Look at Soal. Love Soal!”