SYLO (The SYLO Chronicles)
D. J. MacHale
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The ultimate action-fueled end-of-the-world conspiracy trilogy from #1 New York Times bestselling author D.J. MacHale
THEY CAME FROM THE SKY
parachuting out of military helicopters to invade Tucker Pierce’s idyllic hometown on Pemberwick Island, Maine.
They call themselves SYLO and they are a secret branch of the U.S. Navy. SYLO’s commander, Captain Granger, informs Pemberwick residents that the island has been hit by a lethal virus and must be quarantined. Now Pemberwick is cut off from the outside world.
Tucker believes there’s more to SYLO’s story. He was on the sidelines when the high school running back dropped dead with no warning. He saw the bizarre midnight explosion over the ocean, and the mysterious singing aircraft that travel like shadows through the night sky. He tasted the Ruby—and experienced the powers it gave him—for himself.
What all this means, SYLO isn’t saying. Only Tucker holds the clues that can solve this deadly mystery.
LOOK TO THE SKY
because Pemberwick is only the first stop.
Olivia said with sympathy. “Maybe football isn’t your sport.” I opened my mouth to argue with her, too, but stopped. She was probably right too. Kent put his arm around her waist and said, “C’mon, let’s have some fun.” Olivia giggled coyly and nodded. “Yes. Let’s.” She seemed to have shaken her dark mood, though I couldn’t help but think it was an act, because she reached out and touched my face and in that brief moment I saw the sadness return to her eyes. “You are such a good guy, Tucker.
did a few drills and called it a day. On the way home I took advantage of the extra hour with no practice and detoured into town. I grabbed a can of iced tea from Molly’s and took it to a bench on the edge of the park on top of Main Street where I could get a good view of the entire downtown area. It all looked so normal, though I knew it wasn’t. Arbortown was still quieter than normal. There weren’t even any cars moving on the streets. The only sign of life came from the fact that many of the
said. “And who knows what anybody else knows?” “That makes no sense,” I said. “C’mon,” Kent said and took out the Wiffle ball. “Let’s just have a catch.” “Is this allowed?” I asked. “I mean, nobody else is—” “So let’s give ’em something to think about,” he said. Kent was back to being the cocky son of privileged parents. For once, I didn’t mind. He tossed me the loaded ball, and I tossed it back. It was about as innocent a scene as you could imagine. At least that’s what I hoped. I also
were around. Did they really believe that once everybody went to sleep in their underwear, nobody would try to escape? That was fine by me. I took off sprinting for the gate that led to the seventh fairway and the women’s section of the compound. The distance was maybe fifty yards but I was there in an instant. Anyone running that fast would have to appear as a streaking shadow to a guard who happened to be looking. My confidence soared. The Ruby was doing its job. The gate was locked, no big
driver spoke a few words to the guy in the shack, after which the iron gates swung open and the ambulance drove out. The gate remained open long enough for another ambulance to drive in and stop in front of the clubhouse. The back door opened and a SYLO soldier jumped out along with a lady who was the perfect image of somebody’s grandma…except that her hands were cuffed behind her back. I didn’t recognize the lady. She was yet another unfortunate victim of the quarantine—and now a prisoner of