Annihilation (The Seamus Chronicles Book 1)

Annihilation (The Seamus Chronicles Book 1) Read Free Page B

Book: Annihilation (The Seamus Chronicles Book 1) Read Free
Author: K. D. McAdams
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are. We sit down and wait. When I was little, Dad, Grace and I would sit in these chairs and try to guess what color the next car was going to be. Dad and Grace could do it for hours. They never seemed to care if they were wrong. I could only play the game for a couple of minutes; it was pointless. There was no way to be good at it and no way to get better at it. But now there seem to be almost no cars at all.
    After a few minutes, we walk back inside to the kitchen. The news anchor is reminding people to cough into their elbows and wash their hands. It seems a little pathetic. Dad shakes his head and says, “Something doesn’t seem right about this.” Then he walks out of the kitchen.
    I am already on my way to the lab. I would rather bury myself in work than think or talk about feelings. Before I can get to the door, the screen beeps, signifying a video call. I want to ignore it, I know its Mom. What if she’s sick?
    Before Dad can get to the screen to answer, I walk-run over and click “answer.” Mom’s face fills the screen and lights up when she sees it’s me who answered. Making someone else feel good makes me so happy, but I didn’t really do anything. This is what Dad says I need to learn from school: people. Mom isn’t the only one who likes to see me, but I spend too much time stressed out about why people like me. What do I do or need to do so they keep liking me? When I try and talk about it, they say, “Just be yourself.” My self worries about what to do so people like me. But I don’t want to do anything just because other people want me to do it. Being yourself is really hard.
    “Hi Mom. How are you feeling?” I ask, dreading the moment when she coughs and gives me the sad knowing smile of impending death.
    “I miss you guys. But I have a few books to read and I got some snacks yesterday. I think I’ll make this a jammy day and read in bed until my eyes bleed.” No cough.
    How can such an intelligent person get so wrapped up in trashy vampire novels? Do they stimulate her creativity or are they just an escape from the world? Mom is brilliant; I know I get my intelligence from her. Is reading how she copes? Sometimes I have trouble shutting my brain off when I am thinking about something. It wouldn’t surprise me if she has the same issue and uses fiction to get to a quiet space. Maybe once my reactor is complete I can start reading more. I would be happy to be more like Mom in every way.
    “Hey babe,” smiles Dad as he finally gets to the kitchen. “Are you going to have a jammy day or do you have work to get done?” Absent is any hint of concern in either of their voices. Does not knowing whether the person you love is going to die make it easier when they die? Or maybe they don’t love each other? Or maybe they know each other so well that they don’t need to ask the deep questions. I can’t figure out relationships, and I’m not ready to try. At least not now; I’ve been given my cue to leave.
    I spend most of the daylight in my lab. Dad keeps the screen off all day and stays busy outside.
    It’s puzzling that I share DNA with him. I cannot think of a trait that we have in common. Grace and Liam have no biological ties to him but have personalities that are almost direct derivatives of his. The three of them work outside at mindless physical labor. They interrupt yard work with random bouts of football, Frisbee, croquet and swinging.
    I get the vegetable garden. While I do not like vegetables, I have arrived at the point where I know the difference between an heirloom tomato fresh from our garden and a mass-produced tomato from the grocery store. The garden provides food and reduces costs—makes sense. But the flower beds full of mulch? Purely for aesthetics? Seems pathetic to me.
    I can’t resist checking on the epidemic. In the last six hours it has become apparent that this thing is under-appreciated, at least by the news stations. People everywhere are dying. In poorer

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