Dark Inside
Authors: Jeyn Roberts
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #General, #Horror & Ghost Stories, #Social Issues, #Death & Dying
DARK INSIDE
An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, New York 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2011 by Jeyn Roberts
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
The Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your live event. For more information or to book an event, contact the Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau at 1-866-248-3049 or visit our website at
www.simonspeakers.com
.
Book design by Krista Vossen
The text for this book is set in Bembo Std.
Manufactured in the United States of America
2 4 6 8 10 9 7 5 3 1
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Roberts, Jeyn.
Dark inside / Jeyn Roberts. — 1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: After tremendous earthquakes destroy the Earth’s major cities, an ancient evil emerges, turning ordinary people into hunters, killers, and insane monsters but a small group of teens comes together in a fight for survival and safety.
ISBN 978-1-4424-2351-0 (hardcover : alk. paper)
[1. Science fiction. 2. Survival—Fiction. 3. Monsters--Fiction. 4. Good and evil—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.R54317Dar 2011
[Fic]—dc22
2011008642
ISBN 978-1-4424-2353-4 (eBook)
To my parents, Don and Peggy Roberts.
Your love and support know no bounds.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to:
Alison Acheson for all her support and teaching skills. And to all the wonderful people in my writing for children class at the University of British Columbia.
Mimi Thebo at Bath Spa University for being my mentor and guide.
Kaliya Muntean and Fiona Lee, who are wonderful muses and great friends.
Matthew and Shauna Hooten for being such good support.
Ruth Alltimes at Macmillan for being an outstanding editor and having such patience.
David Gale and Navah Wolfe at Simon & Schuster for more fantastic editing skills.
And I’d like to thank my agents, Julia Churchill and Sarah Davies. Without them, none of this would have been possible.
I’m standing at the edge of existence. Behind me, a thousand monsters descend. Their disguises change with each stride.
When they look in a mirror do they see their true selves?
Arms open wide. In front of me is nothing. No one ever knew how existence would end. Sure, they made assumptions: fire, flood, plague, etc. They studied the skies for locusts and watched for rain. They built their cities, destroyed the forests, and poisoned the water. Warning signs left behind in the ruins of ancient civilizations have been misinterpreted. The sins of mankind are always to blame. But who would have guessed it would be so gray? So empty.
Is there really a way back?
Hello? Is there anyone there?
Sorry, wrong number.
There are too many thoughts to cover in such little time. I knew they would find me. I’m glowing in the moonlight. My darkness was too bright to hide forever. They find all of us eventually. They play the odds, and they’re up a thousand to one.
In front of me is nothing. No bright lights, no darkness. No energy. Just nothing.
There is no future because we no longer have a past. Our present is devised of basic survival, and it’s about to end.
They have made sure of that.
I am
Nothing
.
I am existence.
I am pain.
I kneel down in the dirt and write some of my last words. I’d speak them, but there is no one left to listen.
GAME OVER
“There’s been an accident.”
No words have ever been so terrifying.
It was a sunny day. Beautiful. Early September. He’d been laughing. School had just started. Someone told a joke. Mason had finished first period and returned to his locker when the principal found him. Pulled him aside and away from his friends and spoke those four words.
There’s been an accident.
Twenty minutes later Mason arrived at Royal Hospital. They wouldn’t let him drive. His car was back in the parking lot. Mr. Yan, the geology teacher, drove. He’d never even met Mr. Yan before. He’d never thought to study geology. Since when did any of that matter?
It was sunny outside. Bright. Hot. The days were getting shorter and girls were noticeably wearing fewer clothes. Warm light filtered through the Honda’s window, warming Mason’s jeans. He absently thought about removing his hoodie, but the consideration was too casual. Too normal. How could he think of being warm? How selfish was he?
The teacher offered to come in, but Mason shook his head.
No. His head bounced up and down when asked if he’d be all right. Yes. He’d be sure to call the school if he needed a ride home. Yes. As Mr. Yan drove off, Mason noticed that his white Honda Civic had a dent in the bumper.
Another car drove through a red light and hit her. Side collision. Your mother was the only one in the car. She’s at the hospital. We’ll take you there. You can’t drive—you’re in shock.
Shock? Was that what this was?
Somehow he made it inside. A woman in admitting told him where to go. She was eating a bagel. There was a coffee stain on her sleeve. A permanent frown tattooed into her forehead, her mouth drawn taut against her teeth. She pointed toward the main room and told him to wait. There were too many people around. More than the waiting room could hold. It seemed awfully busy for a Wednesday afternoon. He couldn’t find a seat. So he squeezed his slender frame into a corner between a vending machine and the wall. From there he could see and hear everything.
Ambulance lights flickered through the windows. Paramedics rushed to bring stretchers through the emergency doors. Doctors shouted in the hallways and nurses ran with clipboards and medical supplies. People crowded the tiny waiting room’s chairs. None were smiling. Most stared off into space while others spoke in hushed voices. A woman a few feet away kept opening and closing the clasp on her purse. Her eyes were red and puffy, and when she looked at Mason, tears welled up and rolled down her cheeks. She was holding a pink blanket in her lap; drops of blood stained the fabric.