The Mutants Read Online Free PDF Page A

crouching low to the floor.
     
    Cora tried to look through the hole, as well, but was met with blotches of red and black. She retreated away and pulled up her hood, trying desperately to rid her sight of the burning colours. She could hear the flying machines now, whizzing by overhead. Their ships hummed like night bugs.
     
    They waited inside the house until everything grew quiet again, and then Lyle peeked outside to take a quick look at the village.
     
    ‘They’re gone,’ he said flatly.
     
    ‘They must have been just passing through,’ added Shyla.
     
    ‘I hate this …’ was all Cora said.
     
    The three collected the leftover burrowers and wrapped them up in a blanket to carry. It was time to secure some goods from the traders and figure out what their stock was going to look like during the cold season. Last year had been tough, filled with nights so bitter that Cora thought she would freeze to death. Although there were no crawly creatures to contend with, there were certainly other things that wanted you dead.
     
    The traders usually hung around the shadowy parts of the village, where the sun could not touch them and the wind could not toss their wares around. No one minded where they decided to peddle their foreign goods, because without them everyone would either go hungry or cold or both. Cora felt like she was a huge contributor to the traders sometimes. Her kills often went straight to them to bargain for other valuable things. Then those kills went to a villager that no doubt despised her Utopian blood, though they gobbled down the meat thankfully enough.
     
    Rorian was the trader that offered the most for what you gave him, and that was who the three friends went to straight away. Today, however, he seemed a bit putout. His ratty hat and long scarf were no longer worse for wear than he was. Traders roamed around a great deal and so they developed various strains of The Death Mark. Rorian was caked in the sickness, having bumpy skin, red eyes, a limp leg, and no hair.
     
    ‘Ah, if it isn’t my favourite customer,’ he croaked when he saw Cora coming around the turn. She pulled down her hood once she was out of the reach of the sun. ‘Welcome, welcome! Have any nice finds for me today?’
     
    The other traders eyed the sack Lyle carried with great interest and envy. They knew – if Rorian played himself right – the loot would go to him.
     
    ‘We do,’ answered Cora. She reached down into the sack and pulled up the plumpest burrower to wiggle in front of Rorian’s face. ‘How is this for a nice find?’
     
    When the trader reached out to touch the burrower, Cora drew it away. Even if Rorian was her favourite trader, she trusted none of them and would not let him handle any meat before the trade.
     
    ‘It is, it is,’ agreed Rorian, mumbling to himself. ‘How about a nice quilt for that burrower? I saw you eyeing them last time.’ He pointed to the stack of grey squares behind him. ‘Deal?’
     
    ‘Deal,’ agreed Cora. The quilt was going straight into the metal box when she returned home. ‘Although, I have more to trade. I need something to fix my water-catcher. It has cracks.’
     
    Rorian felt around his coat pockets for a few moments before pulling out a metal tin. He popped open the cover and showed it to her. ‘Candle wax. You spread some of that in the cracks and no water will drip through.’
     
    ‘How much?’
     
    ‘Two burrowers.’
     
    ‘No deal.’ Cora moved towards the other hopeful traders, as she usually did when Rorian offered her a terrible deal, and the older man was already protesting.
     
    ‘Fine, fine! One burrower.’ He grumbled as they made the exchange. ‘What else do you want?’ he snapped.
     
    ‘Do you have any sun-dimmers?’ she asked, glancing behind the trader. She didn’t see any but they might have been stuffed in Rorian’s pockets.
     
    The old trader shook his head. ‘Haven’t seen a pair since the one I sold you.