Vault of Shadows Read Online Free PDF

taller, stronger, and older than Milo, and he was a much better fighter. He could have knocked Milo out with one fast punch, and they both knew it. But instead he simply studied the look in Milo’s eyes and after a minute gave a small nod. “Sure, whatever you say, you.”
    Milo returned the nod and began to walk past him, then stopped and told him about the boomer Iskiel had destroyed.
    â€œWait, you saying that reptile done that to a boomer, him?”
    â€œIskiel’s an amphibian,” said Milo, “not a reptile.”
    â€œI don’t care if he a dinosaur. How he kill that metal bug?”
    Milo explained about the acid venom.
    Barnaby looked uneasy. “Now, that’s just weird.”
    â€œYeah, well, welcome to my world,” said Milo, and he went off to look for Shark.

Chapter 8
    T he reunion between Shark and Killer made Milo want to cry.
    His friend had not, in fact, been eating but was instead sitting on a log with his tool kit beside him as he worked on a circuit board from the alien ship they’d stolen. Behind him, covered in shadows beneath the oak trees, was the massive red bulb of the Dissosterin command ship that had once belonged to the Huntsman. When they’d all escaped the hive ship, the red craft had brought them down to Earth in relative safety. However, the following day the survivors had bullied Milo into trying to fly them all across the lake to find an Earth Alliance camp.
    Milo got the ship off the ground, but then one of the computer panels blew up and the ship crashed. Hard. It had been a terrible catastrophe. Several of the refugees were badly injured, and a lot of the ship’s circuitry was damaged. Shark, the best tech wizard in Milo’s pod, was now trying to get the craft running again. It was still an iffy proposition, though that morning he had told Milo that this particular circuit could probably get the ship to fly, just not fly very well. It was a start, and it was a lotbetter than nothing. They knew they were being hunted. Staying in any one place too long was insanely dangerous.
    â€œShark,” called Milo from the edge of the small clearing, “look what followed me home. Can we keep him?”
    Shark was a stocky kid with big hands, big feet, a belly that, though not as ponderous as it had been, was still considerable, and a head that looked like a bucket covered in cornrows. His skin was the color of dark chocolate, and his intelligent brown eyes were flecked with gold. William Sharkey. “Shark” to everyone.
    â€œGeez,” said Shark impatiently as he looked up, “don’t tell me you want to adopt a Stinger . . .”
    His voice trailed off and tears sprang into his eyes. A half second later Shark and Killer were crushed into a huddle, laughing and barking and kissing and petting and wagging. And it was hard for Milo to tell where one left off and the other began.
    â€œWhere . . . where . . . where . . . how  . . . ?” began Shark, but he couldn’t finish the sentence.
    â€œHe found me,” Milo told him, and explained about the trap he’d set for the shocktrooper and the subsequent encounter with the fierce little dog. He wasn’t sure that Shark heard one word of it. Feeling immensely happy for his friend, Milo sat down on the log and picked up the circuit board. He saw what Shark had been working on, followed the logic of the repair, and set to work, letting Shark have some privacy and not intruding on it, which is what friends should do.
    Later, after Shark had recovered his composure, fed Killer more than the dog could eat, washed him, and dressed his many small wounds, he sat next to Milo with the Jack Russell sleeping contentedly on his lap.
    â€œI really, really, really, really want to thank you, man,” he said, punching Milo on the arm.
    â€œHey, like I said, Killer found me.”
    Then there was an embarrassing instant when