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First published in Great Britain by HarperVoyager 2015
Copyright © Laura Liddell Nolen 2015
Jacket layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2015
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Laura Liddell Nolen asserts the moral right to
be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the authorâs imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Source ISBN: 9780008113629
Ebook Edition © March 2015 ISBN: 9780008113629
Version: 2015-03-02
On the last day of Earth, I couldnât find my hairbrush. That probably seems like a silly thing to worry about, what with the imminent destruction of, well, everything, but my mom was always after me about my usual ratty ponytail. Normally, Iâd ignore her. Or, if I were having a really bad day, Iâd tell her what she could do with her hairbrush. But like I said, it was the last day of Earth. And I figured, since it was the last time sheâd ever see me, I wanted it to go smoothly. I wanted her to remember me, if not fondly, then at least without anger.
A girl can dream.
I slipped out of my cell as soon as the door swung open. Iâd done the same every day for the past month, and my family had yet to show up. Their OPTâOff-Planet Transportâtook off in eighteen hours, so they still had time. Barely. I couldnât blame them if they didnât come. It wasnât hard to imagine that theyâd rather escape to the stars without so much as a backward glance at me, their big disappointment. Even my fatherâs influence couldnât persuade the government to give me a spot on an OPT.
Turns out, when humankind is deciding which of its children to save, the last place it looks is in prison.
But I was pretty sure theyâd come. West had said as much in his last transmission. The thought of my younger brother actually halted me mid-step, like one of those punches in the gut where you canât breathe for a few seconds.
âLooking for something?â The lazy drawl floated out of the nearest cell.
Against my better instincts, I turned to see Cassa lying on her bunk, her arm draped across Kip. My Kip. Or at least, my ex-Kip. Whatever. In twenty-two hours, I wouldnât have to think about him anymore.
See? Silver lining. And they called me a perpetual pessimist at my last psych workup.
They barely fit next to each other on the flimsy mattress, but that wasnât the weird part. The guysâ ward was separated by a substantial metal wall. We were kept apart during evening hours, for obvious reasons. Not that anyone cared anymore. The med staff had been the first to go, followed by the cleaning crew, followed by the kitchen crew. To show you where girls like me fell on the governmentâs list of priorities, there was still a skeleton crew of guards lurking around, despite the fact that I hadnât had a real meal for going on a week. The guards would be gone soon, too, and then thereâd be no one in here but us chickens.
I figured either Kip had a key, or the guards had left already. A key could be useful. My curiosity got the best of me. âHowâd he get in here before the first bell?â
He cocked an eyebrow. âI got some tricks you ainât seen, babe. Why donât you join us? End of the world and all.â
The guards were gone, then. I felt a small trill of anxiety deep in my chest. If the guards were gone, my family was even less likely to show. But it was never smart to show fear. âThe Pinball could be headed straight for this building, and I still wouldnât be desperate enough to touch you. Oh, wait. Guess you donât have to take my word for it.â