Judgement: The Undergrounders Series Book Three (A Young Adult Post-apocalyptic Science Fiction Thriller) by Norma Hinkens
Authors: Norma Hinkens
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injured clone ossifies on Sven's shoulders.
I t's early afternoon the next day when we arrive at the secret tunnel that leads inside the Craniopolis. My legs are so tired I feel like I'm tromping through quicksand in concrete shoes. The sounds of the forest around me are dampened and fading, a muted background my exhausted brain can barely hold onto. I wait until all the clones and Undergrounders descend into the tunnel before I flick on my flashlight and slide down into the dirt after Trout. A centipede scuttles across the floor in front of me. The darkness closes in around the dime-sized beam from my flashlight, and the damp familiar smell of the underworld fills my nostrils once again.
I push through my fatigue, imagining my aching limbs sinking into the soft, cushiony matrix of the pod chairs in the Biotik Sektor. If I have any energy left I might even swallow a lyophilized roast beef dinner capsule before I collapse into a coma.
I've lost all track of how long I've been in the tunnel when voices drift toward me, coaxing my brain back to life. I shine my paltry beam along the dirt walls and spot the ladder leading up to the Biotik Sektor. I force myself toward it, my legs almost going into spasm from exhaustion. I reach for the ladder and pull myself up, rung by torturous rung, until a meaty arm yanks me the rest of the way out.
"Are you all right?" Sven asks, a worried expression on his face.
I nod, swaying back and forth on my feet. The room spins around me. Sven sweeps me back up and plants me in a pod chair next to Trout.
"We're taking the injured clone to the Medical Sektor to stitch him up," Sven says. "You and Trout wait here with the other Undergrounders. Get some rest. We'll hunt down Viktor and Jerome when we get back."
I let my gaze travel over Sven's muscled neck and shoulders. No ordinary man is the last thing I remember thinking before I drift into oblivion.
I wake to the sound of raucous laughter. I wrinkle my brow and stare blankly up at the ceiling, unable to place what planet I've flown to.
"Derry!" Trout hisses at me.
I bolt upright and look around in horror at the tattooed faces milling about the room. I'm in a nightmare. I rub my eyes, but it doesn't rid the room of the Rogues. They're sprawled out everywhere, sampling the endless menu options from the food dispenser and wreaking havoc with the pod chair controls. My eyes widen when I spot The Ghost heading my way.
"Rough night?" he asks, leering at me.
I shrink back in my chair. "How ... what are you doing here?"
"Looting, pillaging, stocking up on some of those lyophilized steaks that don't need skinning when a man's hungry." His eyes bore into me, then narrow to slits. "Or maybe I'm tracking down horse thieves." He curls one corner of his lip at me. "I see you've been busy resettling the Craniopolis without me. What exactly are you up to?"
I throw a quick glance around hoping to spot Sven and the military clones.
"You seem antsy." The Ghost sneers at me. "I would have slit your throat in your sleep by now if I'd come for you."
I sit up and scratch my scalp hard to get the blood flowing.
"What do you want?" Trout asks.
The Ghost rubs his jaw, his eyes glinting. "That traitor Blade."
I frown. "I thought Blade was with you."
"Not anymore. He disappeared during the storm. And he came this way. Figured you could shed some light on it seeing as you're in the habit of poking around in my business."
A shiver tingles down my spine. So Rummy pulled it off. Hopefully, now he has his brother back he'll disappear for good. But I'm still left with The Ghost, and to say we have unfinished business would be an understatement.
"We haven't seen him." I reach behind for my gun.
The Ghost twists the gooseneck on a pod chair and sinks down opposite me. "Blade's no loss." He gives me one of the psychotic grins that accompany his rapid mood shifts. "I'm glad to be rid of him, and those dang horses. I could even be persuaded to forget all about
I t's early afternoon the next day when we arrive at the secret tunnel that leads inside the Craniopolis. My legs are so tired I feel like I'm tromping through quicksand in concrete shoes. The sounds of the forest around me are dampened and fading, a muted background my exhausted brain can barely hold onto. I wait until all the clones and Undergrounders descend into the tunnel before I flick on my flashlight and slide down into the dirt after Trout. A centipede scuttles across the floor in front of me. The darkness closes in around the dime-sized beam from my flashlight, and the damp familiar smell of the underworld fills my nostrils once again.
I push through my fatigue, imagining my aching limbs sinking into the soft, cushiony matrix of the pod chairs in the Biotik Sektor. If I have any energy left I might even swallow a lyophilized roast beef dinner capsule before I collapse into a coma.
I've lost all track of how long I've been in the tunnel when voices drift toward me, coaxing my brain back to life. I shine my paltry beam along the dirt walls and spot the ladder leading up to the Biotik Sektor. I force myself toward it, my legs almost going into spasm from exhaustion. I reach for the ladder and pull myself up, rung by torturous rung, until a meaty arm yanks me the rest of the way out.
"Are you all right?" Sven asks, a worried expression on his face.
I nod, swaying back and forth on my feet. The room spins around me. Sven sweeps me back up and plants me in a pod chair next to Trout.
"We're taking the injured clone to the Medical Sektor to stitch him up," Sven says. "You and Trout wait here with the other Undergrounders. Get some rest. We'll hunt down Viktor and Jerome when we get back."
I let my gaze travel over Sven's muscled neck and shoulders. No ordinary man is the last thing I remember thinking before I drift into oblivion.
I wake to the sound of raucous laughter. I wrinkle my brow and stare blankly up at the ceiling, unable to place what planet I've flown to.
"Derry!" Trout hisses at me.
I bolt upright and look around in horror at the tattooed faces milling about the room. I'm in a nightmare. I rub my eyes, but it doesn't rid the room of the Rogues. They're sprawled out everywhere, sampling the endless menu options from the food dispenser and wreaking havoc with the pod chair controls. My eyes widen when I spot The Ghost heading my way.
"Rough night?" he asks, leering at me.
I shrink back in my chair. "How ... what are you doing here?"
"Looting, pillaging, stocking up on some of those lyophilized steaks that don't need skinning when a man's hungry." His eyes bore into me, then narrow to slits. "Or maybe I'm tracking down horse thieves." He curls one corner of his lip at me. "I see you've been busy resettling the Craniopolis without me. What exactly are you up to?"
I throw a quick glance around hoping to spot Sven and the military clones.
"You seem antsy." The Ghost sneers at me. "I would have slit your throat in your sleep by now if I'd come for you."
I sit up and scratch my scalp hard to get the blood flowing.
"What do you want?" Trout asks.
The Ghost rubs his jaw, his eyes glinting. "That traitor Blade."
I frown. "I thought Blade was with you."
"Not anymore. He disappeared during the storm. And he came this way. Figured you could shed some light on it seeing as you're in the habit of poking around in my business."
A shiver tingles down my spine. So Rummy pulled it off. Hopefully, now he has his brother back he'll disappear for good. But I'm still left with The Ghost, and to say we have unfinished business would be an understatement.
"We haven't seen him." I reach behind for my gun.
The Ghost twists the gooseneck on a pod chair and sinks down opposite me. "Blade's no loss." He gives me one of the psychotic grins that accompany his rapid mood shifts. "I'm glad to be rid of him, and those dang horses. I could even be persuaded to forget all about
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