Fragments (Partials Sequence)
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Author Dan Wells is back with the sequel to the sci-fi blockbuster Partials, which Pittacus Lore called a "thrilling sci-fi adrenaline rush, with one of the most compelling and frightening visions of Earth's future I've seen yet."
After discovering the cure for RM, Kira Walker sets off on a terrifying journey into the ruins of postapocalyptic America and the darkest desires of her heart in order to uncover the means—and a reason—for humanity's survival.
Dan Wells extends his richly imagined, gritty world and introduces new memorable characters in this second installment in the Partials Sequence.
poison mud. The horses raced toward the house, neck and neck, and Kira surged to her feet and followed, realizing as she ran that she was yelling, half pain and half war cry. Kira reached the house just as Samm and Heron were catching the horses, and she stumbled through the door in agony. The front room held a couch and an easy chair, each with a skeleton still staring at an old TV on the wall. Every inch of Kira’s body seemed scalded by the acid, and she looked down to see that it had already
to stop for more than a second. A portly man in a greasy apron handed her a plate of mashed potatoes liberally whipped together with garlic and chives and covered with a gob of smoky white cheese, and before she could thank him, he ladled on a pile of rich, meaty chili. The smell of hot peppers tickled her nose, and her mouth watered, but she was too overwhelmed to eat a single bite. Another little girl poured her a glass of cool water, and Kira guzzled it gratefully. Samm thanked everyone
those other buildings, this one had been directly attacked and then pounded with years of corrosive rain, and portions of it were blackened or twisted or pocked with grotesque holes. It was also shaped oddly, tapering into weird juts and angles that might once have looked modern and beautiful, but now only added to its strange, brooding menace. Kira could almost imagine she saw lights inside, and imagined for a fleeting moment that they were the ghosts of old office workers, still toiling
’cause I’m the only one left.” “Obviously nobody’s in charge of you,” said Kira, frustrated by the circular conversation, “but what about your friend? The one who warned you not to lose the backpack?” “No friends,” said Afa, shaking his head in a strange, loose sort of way that shook his entire torso as well. “No friends. I’m the last one.” “Were there others before? Other people with you, here in the safe house?” “Just you.” His voice changed when he said it, and Kira was struck by the
setting out a printed sheet from an old company email. “It’s a meeting request from the financial manager to the top staff of the ParaGen labs. This part at the top is a list of email addresses—it’s like code names, kind of, that the computer system used to deliver messages to people.” “We’re familiar with email,” said Heron. “Hey,” said Kira, “this technology is all new to me—I was five when you blew everything up, remember?” “Go on,” said Samm. Kira looked at the two Partials, noting for