Forever Between (Between Life and Death Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

water on top of that. It will take a long while before the water boils hard enough that she’s satisfied, so we’ve got time to talk.
    “Tell me,” I urge, but quietly. Jon lets out a sort of muffled, hard sigh and I see that he’s dropped off to sleep, his thumb slipping almost all the way out of his mouth. He’s two and I wish he would stop sucking his thumb. It’s not like we can take him to an orthodontist to fix the bowing of his front teeth I can already see happening. On the other hand, he’s been through the wringer just like everyone else, so I can’t bear to force the issue. When he’s more deeply asleep, I’ll pull his hand down. For now, I try not to jostle him too much and settle for stroking his baby-soft hair.
    Maybe it’s because I’m not looking at her or maybe it’s just because of the dark. Perhaps it’s because we’re in an open space on the loading dock of one of the warehouses and not in the small intimate confines of the offices. Whatever the reason, Emily finally shares something of herself with me.
    She’s always been sort of enigmatic, not speaking too much about the details of her time before we met, never complaining or hinting at her feelings. It’s not that she’s cold, because she’s anything but that. It’s just that rather than talk about herself, her questions are almost always for me. When we talk, she encourages me to share, making sure Jon and I feel safe and comfortable, and it’s only later that I realize that we only talked about me. She’s always available with a ready ear when things get to be too much. After almost four months here, this is really the first time I get to hear about her in anything other than the most superficial way.
    And what she says is so very sad. I’m frequently of the opinion that my life before the deaders came sucked, but hers takes the cake. I can’t even imagine living through years of fighting a brain tumor as a little kid, knowing I’ll die from it. But she did.
    And then the nanites—and they are clearly different nanites based on her explanation—came and saved her at the last possible minute. It’s like a movie. One of those sad movies where the whole audience cries and then leaves the theater with their arms draped over their kids’ shoulders, grateful for their health and momentarily forgiving of any and all annoyances.
    “But now they’re gone, the nanites?” I ask, just to be sure.
    “Yep. They weren’t the kind like in the deaders or the in-betweeners. Of course, like I said, we’re all probably re-infected at this point. But the ones from my cancer are gone for sure. Taken individually, nanites are actually quite fragile and they don’t last long. The First Responder nanites have a couple of extra things that change those limitations and that’s what makes them last out in the world now. They have factory nanites that can manufacture a limited set of nanites depending on their program. The factories build more nanites to replace those that are lost and can build even more factories. And they have updater nanites, which are really nothing more than relays for network updates to their programs. And nanites really isn’t the right term anyway. They are small, but not as small as the dumbest of the nanites. Of course, size is relative. They are still super small, far too small to see with any microscope you could scavenge up and still use.” She stirs the pot while she talks, checking to be sure that the heat circulates in the pot well, not meeting my eyes.
    “So, are the ones in the deaders being updated?”
    “Oh, no. Not anymore. That last update is what caused all this. Now, they just keep spreading via bites because the program requires distribution and persistence. They bite because of human instinct, not because the nanites specifically tell them to. That’s how it works. The human brain working at its most basic level until there’s not enough left to have instincts, then they decay into the immobile