Blackout (Darkness Trilogy) Read Online Free PDF

empty lobby, I scour for a place to hide them and find nothing. The Frontmen can’t be far away, but staying here isn’t an option.
    “This way!” I say.
    I run to the nearest wall and jump through a window frame. They hoist themselves quickly over the ledge after me. Looking frantically up and down the quiet street, I finally spot the perfect place to hide: the Hyatt’s parking garage. I race toward the entrance and they follow close behind. I hear their footsteps slow as we jog down the steep ramp into the underground lot. One of them gasps, and I can guess why. During the plagues, this place was turned into a morgue. Without electricity to store human remains, some bodies were stacked in parking garages like this one. Corpses left from decades ago are still wrapped here in black body bags. It’s somewhere no one wants to be—making it the perfect place to hide.
    “Breach confirmed,” a Frontman shouts from the street. “In pursuit. Over.”
    The garage is packed with cars. Body bags stick out of every backseat window and popped trunk. The runaways stride behind me through the maze of empty space between cars, swatting aside the limp ends of bags in their way without flinching. I duck behind a blue suburban as the Frontmen enter the garage. Crouched next to the panting men, I hold my finger to my lips. We wait.
    Looking at them, I can’t help but notice that they are both cleaner than anyone I’ve ever seen. They look basically the same to me—same gray-white hair, similar faces—and enviable fat puffs their cheeks. One still grips the other’s collar, using his free hand to rebutton his jacket. On his breast pocket, the letters TC are woven elaborately above a name: Jack Fletcher. My eyes dart to the other’s pocket and read: Daniel Harris.
    The Frontmen open and close car doors, grunting in disgust at their task. I lean closer to the runaways, stare intensely at them, and say with my eyes, I’m going to get you out of here. Trust me to keep you safe and I’ll make those goddamn Easies writhe . Mr. Fletcher and Mr. Harris have caught their breaths now, which means it’s time to move. There’s an old door tucked in the rear of the garage, and all three of us are going to make for it.
    “ Us—crawl—the back,” I mouth.
    Mr. Fletcher doesn’t show any sign that he’s understood me. He looks off in the distance now with an expression that’s far too calm. As if he’s given up and accepted his fate. My mouth tightens into a hard line and hot frustration flares inside me. I won’t let him surrender and ruin my chance to get back at the Frontmen. He has to follow me. Now.
    “Crawl— back .” I emphasize with a rigidly pointed finger.
    “ No,” Mr. Fletcher mouths. The two men look at each other and nod solemnly. Together they sink to their hands and knees, and now I’m certain they want to turn themselves in. Horrified, I grab both of their sleeves, but they shake me off and proceed to crawl around the car. I squint in betrayed confusion as they disappear from view. They’ve left me and I don’t understand why.
    “Got him!” Mr. Fletcher shouts. His voice sounds triumphant—too triumphant, though, like he’s putting on an act for the Frontmen. Confused, I peer through a shattered car window and watch him shove Mr. Harris to the ground at the Frontmen’s feet. Mr. Harris starts moaning in pain—looking far more injured than he was just a moment ago.
    “Show your hands!” a Frontman yells. Guards swarm the two runaways on the other side of the suburban. I duck down fast and press my back against the giant tire, praying that they don’t look on this side.
    “ He took me against my will,” Mr. Fletcher says breathlessly. “Needed my help to escape…I didn’t want to…”
    “ Where’s the boy?” the Frontman demands.
    “He left us,” Mr. Fletcher says. “Went south.”
    I hold my breath in the silence. No one moves.
    “All right, take them back,” the Frontman barks to his