Read Online Exodus by Julie Bertagna - Free Book Online Page A

on the island for as long as she can.
    â€œFind us some music, Mara!” Rosemary calls out, so Mara runs upstairs and powers up her cyberwizz to zoom into the Weave. Quickly, she locates the flickering tower-stack that’s packed to the brim with all kinds of music, selects a soaring waltz from its electronic catalog, and zips back into realworld where she connects the sound-site up to an ancient speaker in her bedroom. She opens her window and lets the rousing music float out over Wing and the surrounding sea.
    Downstairs, Mara grabs Corey by the hands and leads him around and around the garden in a dance until he is full of giggles. Rosemary sings along in her clear voice, smiling at the two of them—then, all of a sudden, her face crumples and she goes inside. Mara follows her into the kitchen and watches her mother plant herb cuttings in a tiny pot. The room is full of the green, mind-clearing aroma of her namesake, rosemary. She has tied it in bunches to dry over the fire. Mara knows why. Her grandmother seeded that plant on the day Mara’s mother was born. Rosemary won’t leave without taking it with her to their new life. Mara plucks a small bunch of dried rosemary and tucks it in the pocket of her jeans as she looks out of the kitchen window at her father, who is setting the sheep and the goats and their two horses running free on the hillside.
    Later that evening, Mara downloads a movie she once found in the Weave—an adventure story of heroes and strange lands, with a comfortingly safe and happy ending.
    She puts the glowing halo on her little brother and lets him enjoy the story as he lies snug in his bed.
    At sundown, despite the heat, the islanders light their fires. No one is sure why, but they do, and so, on the last evening, the people of Wing fill the air with the earthy peat smoke that has filled its winter nights, time before memories, time out of mind.
    Mara knows she will remember this day, every detail of it, as long as she lives.
    â€œGo now, Mara,” says Tain. “Go. Find a new future.”
    He pushes her toward the boats: every fishing boat and ferry, every seaworthy vessel the island owns. They knock together, rocking on strong wave surges.
    Mara’s family begins to board a boat that looks too full to take anyone else.
    â€œCome on, Mara!” her father shouts urgently, but she stands stubbornly beside Tain. The rest of the old folk stand on the hill beside the sea, dead-eyed but dignified.
    â€œI won’t go until Tain does!” she shouts back. “There
must
be room for everyone. We’ll have to
make
room.” All around her and in the boats people lower their gaze from her furious, accusing look. All except for her mother. Precariously, she stands up in her place in the boat and tries to push back through the crush of people on deck to get to Mara.
    There are to be no old ones on the boats. It has all been decided, but Mara can’t believe it. She
won’t
believe it. They cannot leave the old ones on the drowning island.
    â€œWe’ve had all the time in the world to prepare for this and we never made sure we had enough boats? We might at least have done that.” Mara clutches at Tain’s sleeve as she did when she was his little helper. But she can’t help Tain now. She feels useless.
    Gail’s father, Alex, the skipper of the last boat, is shamefaced and desperate. “There’s no room, Mara. Look for yourself. You tell me who to leave—the old ones or the children? The brown-eyed or the blue?” Alex lowers his voice. “Listen to me. This is going to be a long and perilous journey. Those old ones won’t make it. And what about once we get there? How would somebody like Tain manage in one of those cities? But they say they don’t want to come anyway—they want to stay here.”
    Mara glares at Alex with blazing eyes. Tain is furiously ordering her to go, right this second. Gail is