Lost Files 1 - Six's Legacy by Pittacus Lore

Author:Pittacus Lore
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: ePub Bud (www.epubbud.com)
Published: 2012-07-25T04:24:26+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

My hands are cuffed and my legs are bound in rope. Katarina’s are too, though I can’t see her. The Mogadorians threw us in the back of a big rig’s trailer, tied together, so the only proof of Katarina I have is the place where our spines touch.

The trailer bucks wildly and I know we are on the highway, going somewhere fast.

Katarina is still gagged, but they never bothered to gag me. Either they sensed I would stay quiet to keep Katarina safe, or they figured the roar of the road would swallow any sound I made.

I don’t have any idea where we’re being taken or what the Mogadorians plan to do to us once we get there. I assume the worst, but I still murmur soft, soothing things to Katarina in the dark of the trailer. I know she’d be doing the same thing for me if she could.

“It’ll be okay,” I say. “We’ll be okay.”

I know we won’t. I know with sick certainty that this journey will end in our deaths.

Katarina presses her back against mine, in a gesture of love and encouragement. Hands tied and mouth gagged, it’s the only way she can communicate with me.

It’s dark in the trailer save for a small sliver of light shining through a break in the trailer’s aluminum roof. Sunlight dribbles in through the crack. Sitting in the dark, musty chill of the trailer, it is strange to think it’s day outside. Ordinary day.

I’m achy everywhere, sore from sitting and too uncomfortable to sleep. In my exhausted delirium, I have the ridiculous thought that I should’ve stayed behind with the soccer girls. At least long enough to have some of the Gatorade the coach offered me.

Something murmurs inside the trailer. A low, guttural growl.

There is a cage, tucked up against the front of the trailer.

I can dimly make out its thick steel bars in the dark.

“What is it?” I ask. Katarina mumbles through her gagged mouth, and I feel bad for asking her a question she can’t possibly answer.

I lean forward, as far as I can, pulling Katarina with me. I can hear Katarina protest from beneath her gag, but curiosity pushes me forward. I stretch into the darkness, bringing my face as close to the steel bars as I can.

Another rustle in the dark.

Another captive? I wonder. Some kind of beast?

My heart fills with pity.

“Hello?” I speak into the void. The person or creature makes low whimpers of distress. “Are you okay?”

Jaws snap with sudden force against the bars of the cage, eyes the size of fists flashing red in the dark. The breath of the beast sends my hair back. I pull away in terror and disgust, the smell so revolting I almost retch. I try to scoot away, but the huge beast, unappeased, keeps its head pressed to the bars, its red eyes fixed on me. I know that were it not for the bars, I’d be dead already. This is no captive. No fallen ally. This is a piken.

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