Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 2 Read Online Free Ppbooks
CONTENTS
PREFACE
Affiliate ONE
Affiliate 2
CHAPTER Three
Affiliate Iv
CHAPTER Five
CHAPTER Six
Chapter Vii
Chapter EIGHT
Affiliate Nine
CHAPTER TEN
Chapter ELEVEN
Affiliate TWELVE
CHAPTER Xiii
Affiliate FOURTEEN
Affiliate FIFTEEN
Affiliate SIXTEEN
Chapter SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Affiliate NINETEEN
Affiliate TWENTY
CHAPTER Xx-ONE
Affiliate 20-TWO
Chapter TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER Twenty-4
Affiliate TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER 20-SIX
CHAPTER Twenty-SEVEN
Affiliate TWENTY-Viii
CHAPTER TWENTY-Nine
CHAPTER Thirty
CHAPTER Xxx-1
CHAPTER Xxx-TWO
CHAPTER Xxx-Three
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER Thirty-FIVE
Affiliate Xxx-SIX
Affiliate Xxx-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-Viii
Affiliate THIRTY-Ix
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-1
Affiliate 40-2
Chapter FORTY-Three
Chapter FORTY-Iv
Affiliate FORTY-FIVE
CHAPTER Forty-Half dozen
Chapter FORTY-SEVEN
Chapter FORTY-Viii
Chapter Xl-Nine
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Most THE AUTHOR
For Mom and Dad,
who e'er believed this twenty-four hours would come.
(And because I'thou hoping imaginary grandchildren count!)
PREFACE
BLURRY, FRACTURED MEMORIES SWAM through Sophie's mind, but she couldn't piece them together. She tried opening her eyes and establish only darkness. Something rough pressed against her wrists and ankles, refusing to allow her move.
A wave of cold rushed through her every bit the horrifying realization dawned.
She was a earnest.
A cloth beyond her lips stifled her cry for aid, and a sedative's sweetness aroma stung her nose when she inhaled, making her caput spin.
Were they going to impale her?
Would the Black Swan really destroy their ain cosmos? What was the bespeak of Project Moonlark, then? What was the point of the Everblaze?
The drug lulled her toward a dreamless oblivion, but she fought back—clinging to the 1 memory that could shine a tiny spot of light in the thick, inky haze. A pair of cute aquamarine eyes.
Fitz'south optics. Her first friend in her new life. Her first friend ever.
Maybe if she hadn't noticed him that twenty-four hours in the museum, none of this would have happened.
No. She knew it'd been likewise belatedly even and then. The white fires were already burning—curving toward her metropolis and filling the sky with sticky, sweet smoke.
The spark earlier the blaze.
Ane
MISS FOSTER!" MR. SWEENEY'South NASAL voice cutting through Sophie'south blaring music as he yanked her earbuds out by the cords. "Have you lot decided that you're too smart to pay attention to this information?"
Sophie forced her eyes open. She tried not to wince as the bright fluorescents reflected off the bright blue walls of the museum, amplifying the throbbing headache she was hiding.
"No, Mr. Sweeney," she mumbled, shrinking under the glares of her now staring classmates.
She pulled her shoulder-length blond hair around her face, wishing she could hide backside it. This was exactly the kind of attention she went out of her way to avoid. Why she wore dull colors and lurked in the back, blocked by the other kids who were at least a human foot taller than her. It was the only mode to survive as a twelve-year-quondam high schoolhouse senior.
"Then possibly you tin can explain why yous were listening to your iPod instead of following along?" Mr. Sweeney held up her earbuds like they were evidence in a crime. Though to him, they probably were. He'd dragged Sophie's class to the Natural History Museum in Balboa Park, assuming his students would be excited about the all-day field trip. He didn't seem to realize that unless the giant dinosaur replicas came to life and started eating people, no one cared.
Sophie tugged out a loose eyelash—a nervous addiction—and stared at her feet. At that place was no way to make Mr. Sweeney understand why she needed the music to cancel the racket. He couldn't even hear the noise.
Churr from dozens of tourists echoed off the fossil-lined walls and splashed around the cavernous room. Just their mental voices were the real trouble.
Scattered, disconnected pieces of thoughts broadcast direct into Sophie's brain—similar being in a room with hundreds of TVs blaring different shows at the same time. They sliced into her consciousness, leaving sharp pains in their wake.
She was a freak.
It'd been her hole-and-corner—her burden—since she savage and hit her caput when she was five years old. She'd tried blocking the racket. Tried ignoring it. Naught helped. And she could never tell anyone. They wouldn't understand.
"Since you've decided you're above this lecture, why don't you lot requite it?" Mr. Sweeney asked. He pointed to the enormous orangish dinosaur with a duckbill in the heart of the room. "Explicate to the form how the Lambeosaurus differs from the other dinosaurs we've studied."
Sophie repressed a sigh as her mind flashed to an image of the information card in front of the brandish. She'd glanced at it when they entered the museum, and her photographic memory recorded every detail. Every bit she recited the facts, Mr. Sweeney'due south confront twisted into a scowl, and she could hear her classmates' thoughts grow increasingly sour. They weren't exactly fans of their resident child prodigy. They chosen her Curvebuster.
She finished her respond, and Mr. Sweeney grumbled something that sounded similar "know-it-all" as he stalked off to the showroom in the next room over. Sophie didn't follow. The thin walls separating the ii rooms didn't block the noise, but they muffled it. She grabbed what lilliputian relief she could.
"Nice job, superfreak," Garwin Chang—a boy wearing a T-shirt that said Back OFF! I'Thousand GONNA FART—sneered as he shoved by her to join their classmates. "Maybe they'll write another commodity about you. 'Child Prodigy Teaches Class About the Lame-o-saurus.'"
Garwin was still bitter Yale had offered her a full scholarship. His rejection alphabetic character had arrived a few weeks before.
Not that Sophie was allowed to go.
Her parents said it was too much attention, too much pressure, and she was too young. End of discussion.
So she'd be attending the much closer, much smaller San Diego Urban center College next year—a fact some annoying reporter establish newsworthy enough to mail service in the local paper the twenty-four hour period before—CHILD PRODIGY CHOOSES CITY COLLEGE OVER IVY LEAGUE—complete with her senior photo. Her parents freaked when they institute it. "Freaked" wasn't even a strong enough word. More than half their rules were to help Sophie "avert unnecessary attending." Front end-page articles were pretty much their worst nightmare. They'd even called the newspaper to mutter.
The editor seemed as unhappy every bit they were. The story was run in place of an article on the arsonist terrorizing the metropolis—and they were withal trying to effigy out how the mistake had happened. Bizarre fires with white-hot flames and fume that smelled similar burnt sugar took priority over everything. Esp
ecially a story near an unimportant fiddling girl well-nigh people went out of their manner to ignore.
Or, they used to.
Across the museum, Sophie caught sight of a tall, dark-haired boy reading yesterday's paper with the embarrassing black-and-white photo of her on the front. Then he looked up and stared direct at her.
She'd never seen eyes that item shade of blue before—teal, like the smooth pieces of sea glass she'd found on the beach—and they were so brilliant they glittered. Something flickered across his expression when he caught her gaze. Disappointment?
Before she could decide what to make of it, he shrugged off the display he'd been leaning against and closed the altitude betwixt them.
The smile he flashed belonged on a moving picture screen, and Sophie'due south heart did a weird fluttery thing.
"Is this you?" he asked, pointing to the film.
Sophie nodded, feeling tongue-tied. He was probably 15, and past far the cutest boy she'd always seen. So why was he talking to her?
"I thought and so." He squinted at the motion-picture show, and then back at her. "I didn't realize your optics were chocolate-brown."
"Uh . . . yeah," she said, not sure what to say. "Why?"
He shrugged. "No reason."
Something felt off about the conversation, but she couldn't figure out what information technology was. And she couldn't place his accent. Kind of British, but unlike somehow. Crisper? Which bothered her—merely she didn't know why.
"Are you in this form?" she asked, wishing she could suck the words back as soon every bit they left her mouth. Of course he wasn't in her class. She'd never seen him before. She wasn't used to talking to boys—particularly cute boys—and it made her encephalon a piffling mushy.
His perfect grinning returned as he told her, "No." And then he pointed to the hulking greenish figure they were standing in forepart of. An Albertosaurus, in all its giant, lizardesque glory. "Tell me something. Do you really retrieve that's what they looked similar? Information technology's a fiddling absurd, isn't information technology?"
"Not really," Sophie said, trying to see what he saw. It looked like a small T. rex: large oral fissure, abrupt teeth, ridiculously brusque arms. Seemed fine to her. "Why? What do you recollect they looked like?"
He laughed. "Never heed. I'll allow you get back to your grade. It was overnice to meet you lot, Sophie."
He turned to go out but as two classes of kindergartners barreled into the fossil exhibit. The crushing moving ridge of screaming voices was enough to knock Sophie back a stride. But their mental voices were a whole other realm of pain.
Kids' thoughts were stinging, high-pitched needles—and then many at one time was like an angry porcupine attacking her brain. Sophie closed her eyes every bit her hands darted to her head, rubbing her temples to ease the stabbings in her skull. Then she remembered she wasn't lonely.
She glanced effectually to see if anyone noticed her reaction and locked eyes with the male child. His hands were at his brow, and his face wore the aforementioned pained expression she imagined she'd had only a few seconds before.
"Did you lot just . . . hear that?" he asked, his voice hushed.
She felt the claret drain from her face up.
He couldn't mean . . .
It had to be the screaming kids. They created plenty of dissonance on their own. Shrieks and squeals and giggles, plus sixty or and so individual voices chattering away.
Voices.
She gasped and took another step back as her brain solved her earlier problem.
She could hear the thoughts of everyone in the room. Only she couldn't hear the boy'due south singled-out, accented voice unless he was speaking.
His mind was totally and completely silent.
She didn't know that was possible.
"Who are you?" she whispered.
His eyes widened. "You did—didn't yous?" He moved closer, leaning in to whisper. "Are you a Telepath?"
She flinched. The word made her peel itch.
And her reaction gave her away.
"You are! I tin't believe it," he whispered.
Sophie backed toward the exit. She wasn't virtually to reveal her secret to a total stranger.
"Information technology'south okay," he said, holding out his hands as he moved closer, like she was some sort of wild animate being he was trying to at-home. "You lot don't have to be afraid. I'grand ane likewise."
Sophie froze.
"My proper noun'due south Fitz," he added, stepping closer still.
Fitz? What kind of a name was Fitz?
She studied his face, searching for some sign that this was all office of a joke.
"I'm not joking," he said, similar he knew exactly what she was thinking.
Maybe he did.
She wobbled on her feet.
She'd spent the past seven years wishing she could find someone else similar her—someone who could do what she could. Now that she'd found him, she felt like the world had tilted sideways.
He grabbed her arms to steady her. "It's okay, Sophie. I'm here to assist you. We've been looking for you for twelve years."
Twelve years? And what did he mean by "we"?
Better question: What did he want with her?
The walls closed in and the room started to spin.
Air.
She needed air.
She jerked away and bolted through the door, stumbling every bit her shaky legs constitute their rhythm.
She sucked in giant breaths as she ran down the stairs in front of the museum. The smoke from the fires burned her lungs and white bits of ash flew in her face up, but she ignored them. She wanted every bit much space between her and the strange boy as possible.
"Sophie, come up dorsum!" Fitz shouted behind her.
She picked upward her pace as she raced through the courtyard at the base of operations of the steps, by the wide fountain and over the grassy knolls to the sidewalk. No i got in her way—anybody was inside because of the poor air quality. But she could all the same hear his footsteps gaining on her.
"Wait," Fitz called. "You don't have to exist afraid."
She ignored him, pouring all her free energy into her sprint and fighting the urge to glance over her shoulder to run into how far back he was. She made it halfway through a crosswalk earlier the sound of screeching tires reminded her she hadn't looked both means.
Her caput turned and she locked eyes with a terrified driver struggling to cease his car before it plowed correct over her.
She was going to die.
TWO
THE Adjacent SECOND WAS A Blur.
The car swerved right—missing Sophie by inches—then jumped the curb and sideswiped a streetlight. The heavy steel lantern croaky from its base and plummeted toward Sophie.
No!
It was her merely thought every bit her instincts took over.
Her hand shot into the air, her mind pulling strength from somewhere deep in her gut and pushing information technology out through her fingertips. She felt the forcefulness collide with the falling lantern, gripping on similar it was an extension of her arm.
As the dust settled she looked upwardly, and gasped.
The bright blue lantern floated above her, somehow held upwardly by her mind. It didn't even experience heavy, though she was certain it weighed a ton.
"Put information technology downwardly," a familiar, accented voice warned, bringing her out of her trance.
She shrieked and dropped her arm without thinking. The streetlight hurtled toward them.
"Picket out!" Fitz shouted, yanking her out of the style a split 2nd earlier the lantern crashed to the ground. The force of the bear upon knocked them over, and they tumbled to the sidewalk. Fitz'southward trunk broke her autumn as she landed across his chest.
Fourth dimension seemed to end.
She stared into his optics—eyes that were now stretched every bit broad equally they could get—trying to sort through the flurry of thoughts and questions swirling effectually in her head to find something coherent.
"How did you practise that?"
he whispered.
"I have no thought." She sat up, replaying the past few seconds in her listen. Zip made sense.
"We need to go out of here," Fitz warned, pointing to the driver, who was staring at them similar he'd witnessed a miracle.
"He saw," she gasped, feeling her chest tighten with panic.
Fitz pulled her to her feet as he got upwardly. "Come up on, let's get out of sight."
She was too overwhelmed to figure out a plan on her own, and so she didn't resist when he dragged her downwardly the street.
"Which way?" he asked when they reached the start intersection.
She didn't want to be alone with him, and so she pointed north, toward the San Diego Zoo, where there was sure to be a crowd—even during a firestorm.
They took off running, though no one was post-obit, and for the offset time in her life, Sophie missed hearing thoughts. She had no idea what Fitz wanted—and it changed everything. Her mind ran through terrifying scenarios, most of which involved government agents throwing her into nighttime vans to run experiments on her. She watched the road, prepare to bolt at the first sign of anything suspicious.
They reached the zoo's massive parking lot, and Sophie relaxed when she saw people outside, milling around their cars. Nothing would happen with then many witnesses. She slowed her pace to a walk.
"What do you want?" she asked when she caught her breath.
"I'k here to help you, I hope."
His voice sounded sincere. Didn't make it easier to believe him, though.
"Why were y'all looking for me?" She tugged out a loose eyelash, more than a little afraid of the answer.
He opened his mouth, then hesitated. "I'm non sure if I'grand supposed to tell you."
"How am I supposed to trust you lot if you won't respond my questions?"
He considered that for a second. "Okay, fine—but I don't know much. My begetter sent me to find you. We've been looking for a specific daughter your age, and I was supposed to observe and written report back to him, like always. I wasn't supposed to talk to y'all." He frowned, like he was disappointed with himself. "I just couldn't effigy you out. Y'all don't make sense."
"What does that mean?"
Source: https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/shannon-messenger/43866-keeper_of_the_lost_cities.html
0 Response to "Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 2 Read Online Free Ppbooks"
Post a Comment