Read Online Remnants 13 - Survival by Katherine Alice Applegate - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Katherine Alice Applegate
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computer, a tool. Someone should have done it a lot earlier Just — pulled the plug.>>
<> Charlie said fearfully. <>
Yago laughed. <> Tate fought down her unease. She wished there was another way. She didn’t want to sit in that chair again, feel Mother probing her brain, searching for her darkest secret. But, if what Amelia was saying was true, there was no danger of that. Mother was dead. Only — what if—
what if Mother had fooled her? What if this was Mother’s way of luring her back…
“Stop,” Tate told herself firmly. One paranoid personality was enough. And Charlie was already playing that role. She’d witnessed Mother’s decline. She’d felt Mother’s mourning. That hadn’t been fake.
“Fine,” she said out loud. “Amelia, you’ll have to tell me what to do.”
<> Yago said, <> Tate walked toward the chair
It hurt. Each step sent shooting pains radiating up toward her hip. The aching raw pain was concentrated in her calf now. Her foot was like something dead, a piece of meat. She could barely feel it hitting the floor. Something in the region of her shoe was starting to smell not so good.
She was walking toward the same chair she’d sat in for god knows how long while Mother tortured her. Her body recoiled. The pain, the images of suffering were still bright in her mind.
The voices in her head fell silent. Even Yago was quiet. He had to be scared. Tate guessed he was too proud to beg in front of the others. She felt very alone as she slowly approached the chair and slipped into the seat.
She felt the connection with the computer immediately. Mother wasn’t playing games this time.
“My name is Daughter,” the computer said, and her voice was kittenish. “How may I serve you?”
Tate was tense. Was Mother playing games with her? “Is this a joke?” she demanded.
<> Charlie said. <>
<> Yago asked. <>
“Oh, god,” Tate said. “I’m starting to miss Mother.”
Amelia chuckled. <> she said.
“Five percent?” Tate asked. “That doesn’t sound like much.”
<> Amelia said.
“Yeah, but five percent? What’s the point? If it won’t hurt us, it won’t hurt Duncan.”
Something about this plan was bothering Tate, but she couldn’t quite place it. Her brain was fuzzy with fatigue and pain.
<> Amelia said.
“Great,” Tate muttered. She gave Daughter the order. And then she realized something. She wanted to win this battle with Duncan. She wanted to live. She wondered vaguely if she was losing her mind.
“Now what?” she wondered out loud.
<> Amelia scolded her. <> Amelia’s comment made Tate’s self-pity well up. For an awful moment, she thought she was going to cry. It wasn’t just her leg. She was thirsty and tired. She had a headache.
“Whose fault is that?” Tate asked peevishly. “You burned my foot, Amelia, my cheek — and now you have the nerve to blame me?”
<> Amelia said. <>
“What do you suggest?” Tate demanded.
Silence. A mocking sort of silence. Tate was missing something obvious …
<> Charlie whispered.
The computer.
Tate hadn’t had control of a computer since before the Rock. For a long moment she just sat, dizzy with the possibilities. Then she croaked, “Water.”
A tall glass appeared in Tate’s shaking hand. She gulped it down greedily, sat panting for a moment, retched, and threw up on her melted and scorched shoes.
<> Yago said.
“Water,” Tate said
<> Charlie said fearfully. <
Yago laughed. <
what if Mother had fooled her? What if this was Mother’s way of luring her back…
“Stop,” Tate told herself firmly. One paranoid personality was enough. And Charlie was already playing that role. She’d witnessed Mother’s decline. She’d felt Mother’s mourning. That hadn’t been fake.
“Fine,” she said out loud. “Amelia, you’ll have to tell me what to do.”
<
It hurt. Each step sent shooting pains radiating up toward her hip. The aching raw pain was concentrated in her calf now. Her foot was like something dead, a piece of meat. She could barely feel it hitting the floor. Something in the region of her shoe was starting to smell not so good.
She was walking toward the same chair she’d sat in for god knows how long while Mother tortured her. Her body recoiled. The pain, the images of suffering were still bright in her mind.
The voices in her head fell silent. Even Yago was quiet. He had to be scared. Tate guessed he was too proud to beg in front of the others. She felt very alone as she slowly approached the chair and slipped into the seat.
She felt the connection with the computer immediately. Mother wasn’t playing games this time.
“My name is Daughter,” the computer said, and her voice was kittenish. “How may I serve you?”
Tate was tense. Was Mother playing games with her? “Is this a joke?” she demanded.
<
<
“Oh, god,” Tate said. “I’m starting to miss Mother.”
Amelia chuckled. <
“Five percent?” Tate asked. “That doesn’t sound like much.”
<
“Yeah, but five percent? What’s the point? If it won’t hurt us, it won’t hurt Duncan.”
Something about this plan was bothering Tate, but she couldn’t quite place it. Her brain was fuzzy with fatigue and pain.
<
“Great,” Tate muttered. She gave Daughter the order. And then she realized something. She wanted to win this battle with Duncan. She wanted to live. She wondered vaguely if she was losing her mind.
“Now what?” she wondered out loud.
<
“Whose fault is that?” Tate asked peevishly. “You burned my foot, Amelia, my cheek — and now you have the nerve to blame me?”
<
“What do you suggest?” Tate demanded.
Silence. A mocking sort of silence. Tate was missing something obvious …
<
The computer.
Tate hadn’t had control of a computer since before the Rock. For a long moment she just sat, dizzy with the possibilities. Then she croaked, “Water.”
A tall glass appeared in Tate’s shaking hand. She gulped it down greedily, sat panting for a moment, retched, and threw up on her melted and scorched shoes.
<
“Water,” Tate said
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