The Reaping Read Online Free PDF Page B

pouches of water. Two blankets, a hatchet, another first-aid kit, and a mess kit. It should all fit in our packs. We are dividing up the supplies when I hear a mechanical whir. My fingers freeze over the food, and I convince my muscles to move enough to turn my head.
    A watcher perches over the cupboards in the kitchen. The gleam in its lens and the faint hum tell me it’s focusing on us. How long until someone sees this feed?
    Jack turns to me, sees me paralyzed over the food, and almost laughs until his eyes settle on my face. Then he follows my gaze to the small black box that hangs over us like a guillotine.
    Without even speaking, we burst into action, stuffing supplies into our packs—forget carefully selecting what we need and arranging it properly—and flying out the front door in full view of the watchers. I thread my arms through the straps as my legs churn into a sprint. The food cans at the bottom of my pack thud against my back until I fasten the waist strap.
    “How long?”
    I can’t see Jack; I’m too focused on making my way between the trees before us. I don’t know what he’s asking. So I make a sound that I hope he understands as, What?
    “How long before someone sees what the watcher saw and soldiers come?”
    I risk a glance back, seeing my beloved cabin—my home for the past six months—disappear behind garlands of leaves. My throat burns and my breath comes thickly, and the crash of my legs through the forest rips through my mind. I can never have a home. It’s always being taken away as if it’s something I’m just not meant to have. I push myself faster and I’m sweating now as the hazy afternoon light turns violet and the color in the trees washes to gray. What had I been expecting? That Jack and I could have grown old in that cabin together? The thought is laughable now because in an instant everything has changed. I’m running too fast, but the adrenaline and anger racing through me fuel my speed and I can’t bring myself to slow down.
    As my feet pound and my heart pounds, my mind begins to clear and I’m able to think about the past few days, my brain finding details it had been too busy to notice. I think about the moments leading up to Jack’s return. I think about what the talker told me before the sub came. My heart clenches.
    “Slow down!” Jack calls, and I realize his voice is too far away. I pull up.
    A few moments later, Jack stumbles to a stop and puts his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.
    “Where are we going?”
    If he had asked me a minute ago, I wouldn’t have been able to tell him.
    Salt Lake City.
    He blinks. “Why?”
    The words of the talker solidify in my mind. Why didn’t I hear him before?
    Nell and Red.
    My hand is suspended over Jack’s. Can I trust the words of that kid? Surely there are dozens, maybe hundreds, of people like Nell and Red on the Burn, but the way he described them—there’s no one else it could be. The odds are stacked against me, but I’m sure. I don’t know why, but something tells me it’s them. And they need us.
    Jack clings to my hand. “How do you know they’re there?”
    No time. I’ve already pulled away from him. I turn south and start walking.
    “Tell me, Terra. How do you know?”
    I sigh and hitch up my pack, holding the straps as we walk. It takes a while, but I tell him about the last sub rendezvous.
    “You think he was talking about Nell and Red?”
    I nod, squinting into the coming darkness, ready for Jack to tell me it’s a wild goose chase.
    “Then we’ll go.”
    I glance at him, and his jaw is set resolutely and his gaze focuses straight ahead. My hand slips from the strap of my pack and finds his. He looks at me out the corner of his eyes, and with that momentary gaze, I can see he trusts me implicitly.
    “But why Salt Lake City?”
    I laugh, and the bitterness in it echoes through the trees. Remember the movie at the camp? The hospital.
    “Yes.” Jack’s voice hesitates over the