Midnight City Read Free Page A

the train door, drawing the rifle from his back in a smooth, practiced gesture. The gun used to be a SIG716, the same kind his father used, but Holt had modified and updated it extensively. The wooden grip and stock were worn smooth with regular use.
    He readied himself, quieted Max with a look … then spun around the side of the door, aiming into the gap he’d managed to open.
    Holt instantly jumped as he saw a solitary figure standing in the doorway. It made him flinch so bad, he almost pulled the trigger.
    The figure didn’t react or move in any way, just stood stoically in place.
    “Geez,” Holt said, keeping the rifle trained on the shadow in the door. His heart felt like a drum in his chest. “Almost got yourself killed, you know that?” The figure made no response. Holt studied him closer. “Hey, anybody home? You hurt?” Still nothing.
    The sunlight behind Holt revealed that the figure was a boy, about Holt’s age. He was alive and real, not something hung from the ceiling as a decoy. But something was way wrong with the kid. He seemed to be sleepwalking or in a daze.
    Holt could guess what it was, he looked about the right age. Holt drew a flashlight from his belt, flipped it on, aimed it up at the kid. When the light hit his eyes, the boy didn’t react.
    But Holt did. As he expected, the boy’s eyes were a solid black. The snaking tendrils of color he had seen in the Menagerie pirates earlier had filled in this boy’s eyes completely.
    It was the Tone. The boy had finally lost his battle with it and Succumbed. He was now under Assembly control. Someone had probably sealed him up inside the train car, either out of a sense of kindness or a desire to deny the Assembly one more human adult for their growing collection.
    When a survivor finally Succumbed, he began a long, slow, zombielike walk to the nearest Presidium, the massive Assembly base ships that had come roaring out of the sky eight years ago, impaling themselves into the hearts of the world’s great cities like daggers.
    What happened (or was happening) to the majority of the human population inside the Presidiums, no one knew.…
    And it was something Holt likely never would know. But even though he was immune to the Tone’s call, he definitely had experienced its effects.
    He stared up at the Succumbed boy with bitterness. A tingling of sadness began to surface from the usual place, the place where he had buried it long ago.
    Holt felt it rising, wanted no part of it, pushed it back down again. Angrily, he stepped away from train car’s door. After a moment, the boy inside hopped down of his own volition. His black gaze stared blindly forward, not even noticing Holt or his dog.
    Max whined at the boy, unsure whether he was a threat or a harmless drone. To be honest, Holt wasn’t sure either, when you came right down to it. He petted the dog comfortingly, held him back.
    The two watched as the boy slowly turned and began walking to the northeast, compelled by some unknown force toward what remained of Chicago … and the dark Presidium ship that waited there.
    Holt watched him until he became a small silhouette on the horizon. The sight haunted him. He remembered that walk, knew if he closed his eyes he would see her walking that same way all over again.
    So Holt kept his eyes open. He grimaced, forced himself to look away. “Come on, pal.”
    Max barked, grabbed his bone again, and followed him back to the tracks. He found the ones he was looking for again, heading north, back into the trees.
    Holt and Max quickly set off into the forest, following the trail.
    From the distance came more booming, more staccato drumbeats. They sounded closer now.

 
    3. BOUNTY HUNTER
    HOLT LAY AT THE EDGE OF THE TREE LINE, staring through a pair of small binoculars. Night had fallen, thick and dark over the forest, and the woods were filled with the impatient buzzings of locusts. Max sat next to him, chewing on a piece of cherry-flavored taffy from