Wasteland (Wasteland - Trilogy) Read Online Free PDF

Skar. With the stink of burning gasoline still lingering in the night air, the last thing she wanted was to be confronted by the town.
    “Esther,” Skar whispered, pulling at her friend’s arm for what must have been the hundredth time, “please. Let’s not do this!”
    “Don’t worry,” said Esther. “They can’t see us.”
    And Skar had to admit: This part was true.
    It wasn’t just that the darkness gave them ample cover. Over the years, Esther had worked hard to become adept at variant ways—the peculiar stalking, hunting, and trapping methods that Skar had taught her, skills that had been second nature to the variant girl since early childhood. Skills that let you become almost invisible.
    Esther ran on the balls of her feet, using cover and shadow to hide her progress, avoiding the straight line of approach, doubling back, leaping up to edge a few steps along railings and windowsills, seizing every possible handhold and foothold available to her: all the tricks a variant did to confound expectation and confuse the eye. If she were to be honest, Skar could fault Esther on a half dozen mistakes: Her tread was too heavy, her breathing too loud. The worst was that the girl still couldn’t interpret the terrain as having many possible pathways, not just the obvious one; she didn’t know how to strategize on her feet. Even so, although she would never say so out loud, Skar had to admit:
    Not bad for a norm.
    The two reached the building where the meeting was taking place and slipped into the adjoining alley. Esther took a swift, birdlike peek into a window, as Skar cringed in the shadows beside her, trembling with anxiety.
    “Big group in there,” Esther said; “looks like everybody in town.”
    Skar’s expression grew even more tense. “Can we go now?” she begged.
    “Not yet,” replied Esther. “We’ve got to hear what they’re planning. It could be important.”
    “What are you going to do?”
    Esther didn’t answer. Skar was about to repeat her question when she saw what Esther was doing.
    She was trying to climb the bare brick wall.
    Despite her mounting anxiety, Skar couldn’t help smiling. Esther was attempting something she had learned only that week: using the tips of her fingers and toes to gain a hold on even the shallowest dents and faintest bumps in a surface. In this way, a variant could—with practice and the right combination of strength, balance, and weight distribution—scale even the smoothest-seeming wall, like a fly. Esther was able to grip the bricks with both her fingers and the tips of her sneakers, and she moved upward clumsily, yet with surprising speed.
    By now, Esther was too far up the wall for Skar to call her back. Feeling resigned, the variant made a quick decision and followed.
    Moving at twice the speed of her friend and with enviable grace, Skar clambered up the brick wall and caught up with Esther within moments. At the last second, she was polite enough not to overtake her. Instead, they reached the roof together and Skar even allowed Esther the illusion of pulling her up once she had reached the top.
    “Don’t worry,” Esther whispered, clearly proud of herself; “I got you. And I got here first!”
    But her jubilation made her forget herself and she stood upright, something a variant would never do, especially not in a moment of triumph, the one moment your guard was down.
    Skar hissed a warning at her, but it was too late.
    Esther wavered and then lost her balance, falling forward onto the roof and landing hard. The top of the building was steeply tilted on both sides like an old-fashioned cottage from a picture book, covered with overlapping reddish-brown tiles. Esther started to slide, her fingers scrabbling in vain to get a grasp of the tattered clay rows.
    Skar reached out a hand, but it was no good. Esther kept sliding, rapidly approaching the edge.
    At the last possible second, she was able to wedge one foot into the shaky rain gutter while