Tomorrow Land Read Online Free PDF Page A

his hands. “Mock if you will,” he told her. “But Molly Millions had it right. When the end of the world comes, it won’t be the ones who cry who survive, but the ones who spit.”

Chapter Four
     
    “Behind you!”
    Instinct from years of training kicked in as Peyton heard the warning. The stranger on the roof pointed and she whirled. A kick of adrenaline slammed through her, succeeding in activating her body’s cybernetic offense. The razors shot from under her fingernails, flashing in the fading sunlight, and she held them up in front of her face, ready. Coiled in a fighting stance.
    Her eyes widened under her ocular implants, a quick scan confirming her worst fear. Oh God, it was one of them . For some reason, some stupid reason, she’d imagined they had all gone away by now. Died out. Become extinct or something. But no. Evidently they had survived. Perhaps they even ran things these days; she had no idea.
    They were even uglier than she remembered, and that was saying something. This particular one was naked, save scraps of tattered clothing clinging to its glowing, yellow-green skin. It had too many fingers, too many toes, a third eye growing out of its forehead. It was covered in festering, pus-filled wounds. And it smelled like—well, she couldn’t think of anything foul enough to compare it to.
    But while they might still be ugly, she wasn’t still defenseless. And she sure as hell wasn’t about to let anything kill her on her first day back in the real world. What would her father say? What would Molly Millions say?
    “Stay back, Pus-head,” she growled. “Unless you want to be sliced and diced.”
    Sadly, Pus-head didn’t seem to have a good grasp of the King’s English. Either that, or he underestimated the martial arts training and nano-enhancements of his intended dinner. With a bellowing roar the monster lunged toward Peyton, fleshy arms outstretched, clearly preparing to grab her by the neck and chomp on her face. She leapt away with lightning-fast reflexes, lashing out with her razors and managing to catch the thing’s left shoulder, slicing across its chest. The creature squealed in pain and fury, blood gushing everywhere. It lunged again but Peyton ducked, avoiding a spray of gore and bodily fluids.
    Looking at the ooze on the ground, Peyton almost hyperventilated. But she forced herself to return to her basic defensive stance instead, arms up, razors out. She focused herself, her nanoenhancers working overtime to lower her heart rate and steady her breathing. This was what she’d trained for, she reminded herself. She could do this. She would do this. She spat on the ground.
    The creature made a grab for her. She swung her leg out, slamming the thing in the stomach with a well-placed kick. It made her stomach turn, the sickening thud of her boot meeting rotten flesh. Good thing she’d left the flip-flops at home. The creature staggered backward, losing its balance for a few precious seconds. Just the opportunity Peyton needed. She swept her arm out, blades flashing, aiming at its face. The blow didn’t miss. All three eyes were blinded at once, and the creature bellowed in misery as Peyton yanked her hand free and retreated.
    Had her attack been enough to stop it? She wasn’t sure how many more rounds she could take. Only a flesh wound , she imagined it saying, forcing her to slice off its arms and legs. And maybe she should cut off its head.
    But evidently Pus-head hadn’t had a chance to see Monty Python, because instead it made the logical choice: to turn tail and run blindly down the street, still sobbing in pain and rage.
    She sucked in a breath, blinking twice to deactivate attack mode. Suddenly the boring old shelter where she’d spent the last four years didn’t seem like such a bad place after all. At least deep underground she’d been safe from these things. She’d factored them out of the equation. It was time to factor them back in.
    She looked down at her hands, at