Read Online INK: Red (INK Trilogy Book 1) by Al K. Line - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Al K. Line
Ads: Link
any of that?" said Edsel, pointing at the advertisements.
"Use computers?"
"Yeah, and you know, talk to your mates on a phone. Text, go on Facebook, all that stuff?"
"No, not really. I kind of remember learning to use a computer a little bit, but not really. Then it all broke, but my dad told me about it. He said that it may have been the one good thing that came from The Lethargy — at least people wouldn't spend their lives in front of a screen any more."
"Yeah, well, he may have been right on that score, but it was fun though. Come on, let's check it out, but quickly."
I miss the Web.
There were countless smashed gadgets and even a few TVs left. What were prized items for the first looters soon became worthless once people realized the power was sporadic, then no longer worked at all. Edsel wasn't sure what he was looking for but felt that something would be of use. They wandered into the back, to the storage areas, and it was pretty much the same: in total disarray and mostly empty of goods, or else what was left was smashed. He found a spool of three core cable though and stuffed it into his backpack, before calling Aiden that it was time to go.
Maybe I'll just hang myself and have done with it all. Joke, Aiden, in case you are hearing this.
Edsel was feeling another wave of more intense pain creeping up from his toes right to his upper chest where The Ink stopped. His arms were on fire and when he rolled up his sleeves to look at them he could swear that they were turning a brighter shade of red. The scabs were getting really dry too, which meant that they were splitting more and more, the itching so intense he had to use all his willpower to not scratch away like a bear at a tree. In between the scabs, where the raw-to-the-touch skin wasn't all bumpy and rough, large bubbles were popping up, like the top layer of skin was trying to get away from the poison infecting his body. He couldn't blame it really. It had been happening all over, and he'd lost count of the number of 'pops' he'd felt as they released a foul liquid that soaked his clothes and somehow left a strange metallic taste in his mouth.
Boots. Yes. Where's Boots.
Boots the pharmacy, on every single high street in the UK, sold all manner of perfumes, potions, lotions and over the counter as well as prescription medications. Maybe he'd strike it lucky and get something to ease the incessant itching at least, moisten his skin so the scabs healed quicker.
"You know where Boots is?"
"Boots? Sure, I'll show you."
~~~
"Goddamn!" Edsel kicked at the boxes of tissues, smashed bottles of cough mixture and mounds of toothpaste that littered the floor.
Shopping sucks. It sucked before and it still sucks now.
"Hey, all of this is good stuff. You have to brush your teeth you know?"
The kid's right, I'm just getting moody with the pain.
"Sorry, you're right. Gather up some soap and tissues and see if there are any flannels, all that stuff." Edsel wasn't thinking straight. Simple things like soap and being able to brush your teeth were part of what made things feel even just a little bit normal; the kid was smart. It could take days, weeks, before he got his revenge, although he hadn't actually thought past the next few minutes for so long that he hadn't considered basic necessities. Apart from food.
His stomach rumbled in reply.
I could eat that damn toothpaste I'm so hungry. I thought the sandwich would have helped more.
He left Aiden to it and went hunting, constantly aware of the time it was all taking. When had they left his house? It was half six or so, so it couldn't be more than a few hours later. He'd ask the kid in a minute.
Gold! I've struck gold. Yes!
Tubes of aloe vera fell off the shelf as he tried to turn a box around to see if it had any left. He popped the cap on the flexible tube, rolled up his sleeve and carefully rubbed the gel over his hard, scabbed-over skin. Flakes fell to the floor but the effect was instant. The
"Use computers?"
"Yeah, and you know, talk to your mates on a phone. Text, go on Facebook, all that stuff?"
"No, not really. I kind of remember learning to use a computer a little bit, but not really. Then it all broke, but my dad told me about it. He said that it may have been the one good thing that came from The Lethargy — at least people wouldn't spend their lives in front of a screen any more."
"Yeah, well, he may have been right on that score, but it was fun though. Come on, let's check it out, but quickly."
I miss the Web.
There were countless smashed gadgets and even a few TVs left. What were prized items for the first looters soon became worthless once people realized the power was sporadic, then no longer worked at all. Edsel wasn't sure what he was looking for but felt that something would be of use. They wandered into the back, to the storage areas, and it was pretty much the same: in total disarray and mostly empty of goods, or else what was left was smashed. He found a spool of three core cable though and stuffed it into his backpack, before calling Aiden that it was time to go.
Maybe I'll just hang myself and have done with it all. Joke, Aiden, in case you are hearing this.
Edsel was feeling another wave of more intense pain creeping up from his toes right to his upper chest where The Ink stopped. His arms were on fire and when he rolled up his sleeves to look at them he could swear that they were turning a brighter shade of red. The scabs were getting really dry too, which meant that they were splitting more and more, the itching so intense he had to use all his willpower to not scratch away like a bear at a tree. In between the scabs, where the raw-to-the-touch skin wasn't all bumpy and rough, large bubbles were popping up, like the top layer of skin was trying to get away from the poison infecting his body. He couldn't blame it really. It had been happening all over, and he'd lost count of the number of 'pops' he'd felt as they released a foul liquid that soaked his clothes and somehow left a strange metallic taste in his mouth.
Boots. Yes. Where's Boots.
Boots the pharmacy, on every single high street in the UK, sold all manner of perfumes, potions, lotions and over the counter as well as prescription medications. Maybe he'd strike it lucky and get something to ease the incessant itching at least, moisten his skin so the scabs healed quicker.
"You know where Boots is?"
"Boots? Sure, I'll show you."
~~~
"Goddamn!" Edsel kicked at the boxes of tissues, smashed bottles of cough mixture and mounds of toothpaste that littered the floor.
Shopping sucks. It sucked before and it still sucks now.
"Hey, all of this is good stuff. You have to brush your teeth you know?"
The kid's right, I'm just getting moody with the pain.
"Sorry, you're right. Gather up some soap and tissues and see if there are any flannels, all that stuff." Edsel wasn't thinking straight. Simple things like soap and being able to brush your teeth were part of what made things feel even just a little bit normal; the kid was smart. It could take days, weeks, before he got his revenge, although he hadn't actually thought past the next few minutes for so long that he hadn't considered basic necessities. Apart from food.
His stomach rumbled in reply.
I could eat that damn toothpaste I'm so hungry. I thought the sandwich would have helped more.
He left Aiden to it and went hunting, constantly aware of the time it was all taking. When had they left his house? It was half six or so, so it couldn't be more than a few hours later. He'd ask the kid in a minute.
Gold! I've struck gold. Yes!
Tubes of aloe vera fell off the shelf as he tried to turn a box around to see if it had any left. He popped the cap on the flexible tube, rolled up his sleeve and carefully rubbed the gel over his hard, scabbed-over skin. Flakes fell to the floor but the effect was instant. The
Similar Books
