Read Online Wasteland (Wasteland - Trilogy) by Susan Kim, Laurence Klavan - Free Book Online
Authors: Susan Kim, Laurence Klavan
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building, subsequent looting, and the effects of many years of rain, sun, and wild animals had transformed it into a jungle of tall grass growing amid red clay, rubble, broken furniture, rotting wood.
Although they were far above, the two of them took care not to make any sudden movement that might draw attention to themselves. As Joseph peered out, he was surprised to see four figures below, picking their way through the shattered field. From their light-colored robes, they were clearly townspeople. A distance away, four bicycles were propped against a sagging chain-link fence.
“Do you think it’s a Gleaning?” Esther asked from beside him.
Joseph shrugged. If it was, they both knew what that would signify, and it was not good.
The Gleaning entailed searching empty houses and stores, sifting through the wreckage of buildings in search of anything viable: weapons, medical supplies, charcoal, bedding, and nails. Everything was brought to the Source, where it was displayed on long tables. Levi’s guards tallied the day’s take and, depending on its perceived worth, added more water and foodstuffs to the town’s portion. It was never very much, compared to what they paid for gasoline.
If the townspeople were Gleaning Joseph’s ravaged home, that meant they were forced to reach even deeper into the outlying areas to try to meet the monthly quota. And that could only mean that Prin had been wrung dry, picked clean of anything of value.
Esther observed the people for a few moments. Chewing her fingernail, she turned for the door.
“I don’t like this,” was all she said.
“But where are you—”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
Joseph had no choice but to raise his hand in thanks and farewell. She gave a quick nod; then, without another word, she was gone.
In the lobby, she darted behind a crumbling wall and slipped out the giant gap that once held a large glass window. She slowed as she approached the backyard and hid in the dappled shade provided by some overgrown vines and bleak vegetation.
From there, she could hear faint voices and something she couldn’t identify: a hollow twang that echoed in the canyon of the old hotel.
When she peered around the jagged corner, it took her a moment to locate the origin. In the distance, one of the trespassers was holding something, a ball that was dusty brick orange in color.
Now that she could see them clearly, Esther sensed that the four were not intent on anything nefarious; they were not even on a Gleaning. Whoever it was bounced the ball on the ground, once, twice, producing the strange sound. One of the others gestured at something a short distance away. It was a tall pole, with a metal ring attached near the top, with the shredded remains of a net clinging to it. The first one threw the ball at the hoop, but it fell short.
The four laughed. Within moments, they headed back across the lot to where their bicycles awaited. Soon, they were gone.
Then Esther heard something behind her and froze in place.
Someone else was there.
A boy emerged from the towering, ruined mounds and stood where the four had been. By the peculiar way he dressed, Esther could tell he was a stranger. Like her, he chose not to wear the hooded robes that the people of Prin used as protection from the fierce sun. Instead, he wore a long-sleeved blue shirt and dusty jeans, with a shoulder pack that he slung to the ground. A battered, low-brimmed hat obscured his face. He had been watching the group at play, although it was impossible to say why.
He walked to the orange ball. Esther watched as he bent to pick it up.
With one hand, he effortlessly tossed the ball over his head. It landed in the hoop, the ragged net swishing. He turned to go. Before he did, though, he stopped and glanced back.
“You might as well come out,” he said. “You ain’t fooling anybody, hiding there like that.”
His voice echoed amid the broken piles of brick and twisted metal.
From her hiding
Although they were far above, the two of them took care not to make any sudden movement that might draw attention to themselves. As Joseph peered out, he was surprised to see four figures below, picking their way through the shattered field. From their light-colored robes, they were clearly townspeople. A distance away, four bicycles were propped against a sagging chain-link fence.
“Do you think it’s a Gleaning?” Esther asked from beside him.
Joseph shrugged. If it was, they both knew what that would signify, and it was not good.
The Gleaning entailed searching empty houses and stores, sifting through the wreckage of buildings in search of anything viable: weapons, medical supplies, charcoal, bedding, and nails. Everything was brought to the Source, where it was displayed on long tables. Levi’s guards tallied the day’s take and, depending on its perceived worth, added more water and foodstuffs to the town’s portion. It was never very much, compared to what they paid for gasoline.
If the townspeople were Gleaning Joseph’s ravaged home, that meant they were forced to reach even deeper into the outlying areas to try to meet the monthly quota. And that could only mean that Prin had been wrung dry, picked clean of anything of value.
Esther observed the people for a few moments. Chewing her fingernail, she turned for the door.
“I don’t like this,” was all she said.
“But where are you—”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
Joseph had no choice but to raise his hand in thanks and farewell. She gave a quick nod; then, without another word, she was gone.
In the lobby, she darted behind a crumbling wall and slipped out the giant gap that once held a large glass window. She slowed as she approached the backyard and hid in the dappled shade provided by some overgrown vines and bleak vegetation.
From there, she could hear faint voices and something she couldn’t identify: a hollow twang that echoed in the canyon of the old hotel.
When she peered around the jagged corner, it took her a moment to locate the origin. In the distance, one of the trespassers was holding something, a ball that was dusty brick orange in color.
Now that she could see them clearly, Esther sensed that the four were not intent on anything nefarious; they were not even on a Gleaning. Whoever it was bounced the ball on the ground, once, twice, producing the strange sound. One of the others gestured at something a short distance away. It was a tall pole, with a metal ring attached near the top, with the shredded remains of a net clinging to it. The first one threw the ball at the hoop, but it fell short.
The four laughed. Within moments, they headed back across the lot to where their bicycles awaited. Soon, they were gone.
Then Esther heard something behind her and froze in place.
Someone else was there.
A boy emerged from the towering, ruined mounds and stood where the four had been. By the peculiar way he dressed, Esther could tell he was a stranger. Like her, he chose not to wear the hooded robes that the people of Prin used as protection from the fierce sun. Instead, he wore a long-sleeved blue shirt and dusty jeans, with a shoulder pack that he slung to the ground. A battered, low-brimmed hat obscured his face. He had been watching the group at play, although it was impossible to say why.
He walked to the orange ball. Esther watched as he bent to pick it up.
With one hand, he effortlessly tossed the ball over his head. It landed in the hoop, the ragged net swishing. He turned to go. Before he did, though, he stopped and glanced back.
“You might as well come out,” he said. “You ain’t fooling anybody, hiding there like that.”
His voice echoed amid the broken piles of brick and twisted metal.
From her hiding
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