Read Online Uglies 2 - Pretties by Scott Westerfeld - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Scott Westerfeld
Tags: Uglies
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the scattered leaves and tree roots that would break her fall. The wind picked up, making nearby branches wave, and Tally could see every twig. The smell of pine tree sharpened in her nostrils. Bubbly was not going to be a problem.
She slid one foot out onto the ledge, then the other.
Standing up was the scariest part. Tally clutched the window frame with one hand as she rose, the other feeling for a handhold on the outside wall. She didn't dare let herself look down again. The cool stone was pocked with holes and cracks, but none seemed large enough for more than fingertips.
When her legs had straightened all the way, Tally found herself paralyzed for a moment. She swayed slightly in the breeze, like an unsupported tower built too tall.
"Pretty bubbly-making, huh?" Zane's voice came from above. "Just grab the ledge."
She tore her gaze from the wall in front of her and looked up. The edge of the roof was just out of reach. "Hey, this isn't fair. You're taller than me."
"No problem." He lowered one hand.
"Are you sure you can hold me?"
"Come on, Tally-wa. What's the point of having all those new pretty muscles if you don't use them for anything."
"Like getting killed?" she said under her breath, but reached up to take his hand.
Her new muscles were stronger than she'd thought, though. With her fingers locked around Zane's wrist, Tally pulled herself easily up from the window ledge. Her free hand grasped the roof's edge, and one toe managed to get purchase in a crack in the mansion wall. With a grunt, Tally was up, rolling over the ledge and onto the roof. She sprawled on the reassuringly solid stone, giggling with the rush of relief that swept through her.
Zane grinned. "It's true, what I said before."
She looked up at him questioningly.
"I've been waiting for someone like you."
Pretties didn't blush—not in an ugly-making way, at least—but Tally rolled to her feet to hide her reaction. The bubbliness of their death-defying climb had made Zane's gaze too intense. She stood to take in the view.
From the roof, Tally could see the spires of New Pretty Town still towering over them, the green trails of pleasure gardens snaking up the central hill. Across the river, Uglyville was already awake. A soccer field full of just-turned-uglies swarmed around a black-and-white ball, and the wind carried to her ears the sound of a whistle being furiously blown. The view seemed terribly close and in focus, her nervous system still ringing, echoing from the moments she'd swung from Zane's hand.
The stone roof was flat, marked only by the spinning heads of three air vents, the towering transmission mast, and a metal shack no bigger than an ugly's closet. Tally pointed at the latter. "That's right above the elevator."
They crossed the roof. In the shack's ancient door, a rust-covered sheet of metal like those that littered the ruins, letters had been painstakingly scratched: Valentino 317.
"Very non-bogus, Tally," Zane said, grinning. He yanked at the door, but a shiny chain snapped taut with a screeched complaint. "Hmm."
Tally looked at the device that kept the chain from slipping, wracking her still-spinning brain.
"That's called a … padlock, I think." She felt the smooth steel object between her fingers, trying to remember how they worked. "They had them in the Smoke, to secure stuff that people might steal."
"Great. All this and we still need our rings."
Tally shook her head. "Smokies don't use interface rings, Zane. To open a padlock, you need a
…" She searched her memory for another old word, then found it. "There must be a key somewhere."
"A key? Like a password?"
"No. This kind of key is a little metal thing. You stick it in and turn, which makes the lock pop open."
"What does it look like?"
"A flat piece of steel, about as long as your thumb, with teeth."
Zane giggled at this image, but started looking around.
Tally stared at the door. The shack was obviously much older than the chain that held it
She slid one foot out onto the ledge, then the other.
Standing up was the scariest part. Tally clutched the window frame with one hand as she rose, the other feeling for a handhold on the outside wall. She didn't dare let herself look down again. The cool stone was pocked with holes and cracks, but none seemed large enough for more than fingertips.
When her legs had straightened all the way, Tally found herself paralyzed for a moment. She swayed slightly in the breeze, like an unsupported tower built too tall.
"Pretty bubbly-making, huh?" Zane's voice came from above. "Just grab the ledge."
She tore her gaze from the wall in front of her and looked up. The edge of the roof was just out of reach. "Hey, this isn't fair. You're taller than me."
"No problem." He lowered one hand.
"Are you sure you can hold me?"
"Come on, Tally-wa. What's the point of having all those new pretty muscles if you don't use them for anything."
"Like getting killed?" she said under her breath, but reached up to take his hand.
Her new muscles were stronger than she'd thought, though. With her fingers locked around Zane's wrist, Tally pulled herself easily up from the window ledge. Her free hand grasped the roof's edge, and one toe managed to get purchase in a crack in the mansion wall. With a grunt, Tally was up, rolling over the ledge and onto the roof. She sprawled on the reassuringly solid stone, giggling with the rush of relief that swept through her.
Zane grinned. "It's true, what I said before."
She looked up at him questioningly.
"I've been waiting for someone like you."
Pretties didn't blush—not in an ugly-making way, at least—but Tally rolled to her feet to hide her reaction. The bubbliness of their death-defying climb had made Zane's gaze too intense. She stood to take in the view.
From the roof, Tally could see the spires of New Pretty Town still towering over them, the green trails of pleasure gardens snaking up the central hill. Across the river, Uglyville was already awake. A soccer field full of just-turned-uglies swarmed around a black-and-white ball, and the wind carried to her ears the sound of a whistle being furiously blown. The view seemed terribly close and in focus, her nervous system still ringing, echoing from the moments she'd swung from Zane's hand.
The stone roof was flat, marked only by the spinning heads of three air vents, the towering transmission mast, and a metal shack no bigger than an ugly's closet. Tally pointed at the latter. "That's right above the elevator."
They crossed the roof. In the shack's ancient door, a rust-covered sheet of metal like those that littered the ruins, letters had been painstakingly scratched: Valentino 317.
"Very non-bogus, Tally," Zane said, grinning. He yanked at the door, but a shiny chain snapped taut with a screeched complaint. "Hmm."
Tally looked at the device that kept the chain from slipping, wracking her still-spinning brain.
"That's called a … padlock, I think." She felt the smooth steel object between her fingers, trying to remember how they worked. "They had them in the Smoke, to secure stuff that people might steal."
"Great. All this and we still need our rings."
Tally shook her head. "Smokies don't use interface rings, Zane. To open a padlock, you need a
…" She searched her memory for another old word, then found it. "There must be a key somewhere."
"A key? Like a password?"
"No. This kind of key is a little metal thing. You stick it in and turn, which makes the lock pop open."
"What does it look like?"
"A flat piece of steel, about as long as your thumb, with teeth."
Zane giggled at this image, but started looking around.
Tally stared at the door. The shack was obviously much older than the chain that held it
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