Read Online The Fear Trials by Lindsay Cummings - Free Book Online

I mean it.
    â€œDaddy!” Peri screams. She points at the sea, clapping and giggling.
    â€œHe isn’t supposed to be home, yet,” Koi says, looking at the sky. The sun is high. We have several hours until dark.
    Koi and I rush to the railing. We watch my father paddle, his strokes fast and uneven. He’s paddling the dinghy all over the place, almost as if he can’t see straight.
    When he gets closer, I notice he has something on the floorboards. A thick bundle of cloth.
    We drop the ladder. My father docks, pulls himself on board, and collapses onto the deck. His eyes are bloodshot. He is gasping for air, he can’t catch his breath.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” Koi asks. “What is it?”
    My father drops the bundle onto the deck, in front of my feet.
    I kneel down. My heart starts slamming against my rib cage. This is wrong. I don’t want to open it. Don’t want to see what’s inside, because my father is shaking his head, saying “No. No, no ,no.”
    I open the bundle.
    I see my mother’s brown leather boots. The boots she wears every day, the ones she was wearing last night when she left the boat.
    â€œWhy do you have these?” I hear myself say.
    But I know. I know because there is a dark stain on the boots and the cloth.
    Crimson. The color of . . .
    â€œYour mother,” my father says, and for the first time ever, my father loses it. He looks at me with cold, empty eyes. “Your mother is dead.

Excerpt from The Murder Complex
    Read on for a preview of
    THE MURDER COMPLEX,
    available June 10, 2014
    Â 

Chapter 1
Meadow
    I t is the key to survival, the key to life. My father’s old dagger.
    â€œPeri!” I call out over the waves to my little sister. An old can bobs up and down in the water, mesmerizing me for a moment. Beyond the Shallows, the sea is packed with boats. Some of them are still afloat, with their masts stretching like arms to the sky. Others are half-submerged, shipwrecked and covered with moss.
    Among the boats are other things. Old tires, half of a rusted car, plastic. A body lies facedown in the waves, her hair spread out like seaweed.
    Behind me, in the city, the Night Siren wails. It starts low, then whoops higher and back down again. Everyone on the beach hurries into the shadows, knowing all too well what happens when the sun goes down.
    It isn’t safe anymore. I call out to Peri again. “It’s time to go!”
    She holds up a tiny hand and gives me the signal: two grubby little fingers held high above her head.
    Two minutes. It is always two more minutes with her.
    The sun is sinking, a massive orange ball melting into the sea. It sets fire to the sky, and everything is dancing in colors. Reds, oranges, yellows. It reminds me of blood, it reminds me of my mother.
    Peri comes running up to me, kicking a spray of sand behind her. “I found a periwinkle!” she squeaks, sounding like a startled seagull. “Like me!”
    â€œYeah? Let’s see it.” I cast a glance over my shoulder, at the few people who still litter the beach, before kneeling down to her level. Peri’s big gray eyes, the color of sea foam, widen as she places the tiny shell in my outstretched palm. It’s twisty and fat, with a sharp point at the top. A mollusk sticks out. Though it has barely enough meat for anyone to eat, I’m still tempted to shove it into my pocket. But somehow the Initiative would find out. As sure as the tide comes and goes, the Initiative will always discover our secrets.
    â€œIt’s a good one,” I say, smiling down at her. “But we can’t keep it.”
    The thick black numbers tattooed onto her forehead crease in frustration. 72050. Peri’s Catalogue Number, just one number different from mine. Our barcodes show the Initiative where we are, who we are, every moment of our lives. As Peri grows, it will grow, and it will never fade or wrinkle because of the healing