Read Online Blackout (Darkness Trilogy) by Madeleine Henry - Free Book Online
Authors: Madeleine Henry
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My last walk out of the Dark Zone. A stepladder hangs down from the truck’s passenger side, and I climb its rungs up to the door. Looking back at my parents, I wave. They wave back, their Troublefield crests clear against the pale flesh of their arms. I’m overwhelmed by how much they care about me, about this family. Troublefield has been their life and their cause, but it isn’t mine. The closest I’ve come to standing for something—for caring about something more than I care about myself—is Star. As I look at them, I grow to understand: They are not just letting me go to America. They are letting me be my own person.
I sl ide onto the black leather seat and shut the door behind me. The car windows are too black to see anything. I try to open the door again for one last goodbye, but it’s locked. The truck jolts forward and smoothes into a drive.
*
I’m moving too fast. I don’t know if all cars speed like this, but it’s nauseating. My head aches, and a steady thump beats against my left temple. Maybe I feel sick because I’ve just left home forever, or maybe it’s the truck, I can’t tell.
I clutch my head and wait for the nausea to pass. Breathe, Phoenix, breathe deep. The air feels warm in my throat, and I lean my head back against the soft seat to open my chest up for more. Inches above me, the truck’s ceiling is black felt. Everything in this car is black: the seats, the windows, and the opaque wall that divides me from the driver. Easies always need a goddamn wall. I can’t see or hear whoever is in the front seat, and I wonder where he is taking me. Where we are. If we have even left the Dark Zone. When I remember the breach, my heart races all over again. These trucks are powerful machines, and who knows what else they might destroy.
I have to focus. In new territory, you have to be on your toes at all times. I pull the white Carnival box onto my lap and examine it suspiciously. Run my fingertips over it. Cautiously, I hold my breath and slowly raise the top: It’s filled with black tissue paper. Just like Star’s was. I sift through the loose and weightless layers, peeling them away, until two strange objects lie before me. Above each is a white label with the name of the object written in black letters. The left label reads Ring for Phoenix . The right reads Phone for Phoenix .
I pick up the golden ring. It looks like the wedding bands my parents wear and fits my ring finger perfectly. The second object—this phone—is strange, but I’ve seen similar gadgets in the Dark Zone. The Fords stockpiled a bunch of them after the Blackout, just in case they became useful again. They didn’t. Unlike those thin metal boxes, this phone is a rectangular cut of glass. Completely clear with rounded edges. From what the Fords showed me, I sort of remember how to use one and hold it in my hand. As soon as my thumb touches its surface, the word Identifying displays in black print across the top of the screen. I almost drop the phone. Phoenix flashes twice then disappears. It knows me.
A column of five words runs down the left side of the screen: Schedule , Messages , Calls , Camera , and Profiles . I accidentally brush the schedule button with my thumb, and the clear screen displays new text.
SCHEDULE
07:00 a.m.–12:00 p.m. TRANSPORTATION.
Location: Vehicle 6A. Description: Car travel to New York City.
**SCHEDULE only reveals Phoenix’s current event**
Only reveals Phoenix’s current event?
Great. So I have no idea what will happen to me after this. My thumb presses Messages , and the screen changes again to reveal a new note.
MESSAGES
1 NEW VOICEMAIL
Thumb to listen.
I press my thumb on the new voicemail tab and listen. Nothing. I hold the phone up to my ear and hear a voice.
“Congratulations, Phoenix!” it says. “You are one of fifty DZs who will enter the United States of America in exchange for electricity. The DZs you leave behind are grateful for the
I sl ide onto the black leather seat and shut the door behind me. The car windows are too black to see anything. I try to open the door again for one last goodbye, but it’s locked. The truck jolts forward and smoothes into a drive.
*
I’m moving too fast. I don’t know if all cars speed like this, but it’s nauseating. My head aches, and a steady thump beats against my left temple. Maybe I feel sick because I’ve just left home forever, or maybe it’s the truck, I can’t tell.
I clutch my head and wait for the nausea to pass. Breathe, Phoenix, breathe deep. The air feels warm in my throat, and I lean my head back against the soft seat to open my chest up for more. Inches above me, the truck’s ceiling is black felt. Everything in this car is black: the seats, the windows, and the opaque wall that divides me from the driver. Easies always need a goddamn wall. I can’t see or hear whoever is in the front seat, and I wonder where he is taking me. Where we are. If we have even left the Dark Zone. When I remember the breach, my heart races all over again. These trucks are powerful machines, and who knows what else they might destroy.
I have to focus. In new territory, you have to be on your toes at all times. I pull the white Carnival box onto my lap and examine it suspiciously. Run my fingertips over it. Cautiously, I hold my breath and slowly raise the top: It’s filled with black tissue paper. Just like Star’s was. I sift through the loose and weightless layers, peeling them away, until two strange objects lie before me. Above each is a white label with the name of the object written in black letters. The left label reads Ring for Phoenix . The right reads Phone for Phoenix .
I pick up the golden ring. It looks like the wedding bands my parents wear and fits my ring finger perfectly. The second object—this phone—is strange, but I’ve seen similar gadgets in the Dark Zone. The Fords stockpiled a bunch of them after the Blackout, just in case they became useful again. They didn’t. Unlike those thin metal boxes, this phone is a rectangular cut of glass. Completely clear with rounded edges. From what the Fords showed me, I sort of remember how to use one and hold it in my hand. As soon as my thumb touches its surface, the word Identifying displays in black print across the top of the screen. I almost drop the phone. Phoenix flashes twice then disappears. It knows me.
A column of five words runs down the left side of the screen: Schedule , Messages , Calls , Camera , and Profiles . I accidentally brush the schedule button with my thumb, and the clear screen displays new text.
SCHEDULE
07:00 a.m.–12:00 p.m. TRANSPORTATION.
Location: Vehicle 6A. Description: Car travel to New York City.
**SCHEDULE only reveals Phoenix’s current event**
Only reveals Phoenix’s current event?
Great. So I have no idea what will happen to me after this. My thumb presses Messages , and the screen changes again to reveal a new note.
MESSAGES
1 NEW VOICEMAIL
Thumb to listen.
I press my thumb on the new voicemail tab and listen. Nothing. I hold the phone up to my ear and hear a voice.
“Congratulations, Phoenix!” it says. “You are one of fifty DZs who will enter the United States of America in exchange for electricity. The DZs you leave behind are grateful for the
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