Intended Extinction Read Online Free PDF

eruption of screams as a girl with a black ponytail grasped the first vial. She held it up in the light and grinned. I looked around for the second one, but couldn’t find it anywhere. Suddenly, I noticed everyone was looking . . . at me .
    I doubled over as an awfully hard object hit me square in the head. I rubbed my scalp gingerly, realizing that the tube had been coated with Vinciglass—the strongest glass material on the planet. And how I hated it right now. The first thing I heard was the tang of the vial hitting the asphalt. Then, within that same moment, a fist the size of a grapefruit found its way to my face.
    My head jerked to one side, and I felt like my skin would separate from my bone. Holy hell, I hadn’t been punched in ten years. The pain seemed incredibly authentic, more real than anything Edge could produce. It didn’t take long for the Adrenoprene to overshadow the surging nerves.
    “It’s mine!” But the voice was muffled as another punch took him down. I heard the tinkling of metal again, but I was too dizzy to see anything. People were pushing me, knocking me back. I held on to my head, trying to stabilize myself, but it was no use.
    “Aha!” said another male voice. I attempted to look up, my vision slowly returning.
    I shook my head until I could see again. A dog pile of men and women, all different ages, struggled in front of me, trying to get their hands on the vial. A tussle broke out on the left of the mound; two people were wrestling, fighting for something in a clenched palm.
    Out of the two struggling people came the small, silver vial. It rolled gently through their legs and stopped at the tip of someone’s shoe.
    My shoe.
    I froze. The people surrounding me drew back a little—these folks were the frail ones, or otherwise timid. The fighters were preoccupied; all I had to do was bend over and take it for myself.
    There was no remorse. I swooped down, clutched the vial, unscrewed the cap, and guzzled the liquid. I didn’t care at all. The rage, the infection, and the excitement that lived within me did not care.
    After the strangely sweet liquid drained down my throat, I lowered my hand, still grasping the metal container. The fighters were surprised and angry. The depressed ones stood with hopeful eyes and feeble strength. Then I saw a child, pressed up against her mother’s leg, watching me vigilantly. I looked down at the vial.
    There had to be more of it, right?
    “Well?!” shouted a nearby fighter, enraged that his mouth hadn’t graced the tube of life.
    I lifted my sleeve, finding the familiar splotch that looked somewhat like Greenland, planted on my forearm. It was quiet around me, except for the occasional grunt and pant of the recent combatants. Everyone was watching—watching me .
    To my far left, a huge group of people erupted into cheers and hollers. I was the only one still looking at my arm. My eyes burned, anticipating any sign of recovery.
    Come on. Come on!
    “Look!” someone shouted, pointing a finger toward me.
    I looked up at them, then down at my arm, feeling a hyper rush shoot through me. I saw it. The fresh, gooey blood started to release itself underneath my skin. The hues drastically changed. Like autumns offspring, my retched skin began to mend. An uncontrolled tear—a real tear—rolled down my cheek. I watched five years of crusty, unforgiving detritus heal itself into something manageable. Something . . . whole.
    I gasped tearfully, looking up at the others. Despite my selfish actions, they knew what this moment meant—even if it wasn’t them in the limelight. This was much bigger than two people becoming free from Edge, it was a statement. A banner to the world that the curse of Edge could and would be eradicated.
    Tonight that other girl and I became the new Adam and Eve.
    With the sight of two people feeling the effects of this newfound development, the crowd accepted GenoTec’s newest “band-aid.”
    “Hope,” said Slate. “Isn’t