The Rain - Part 1
The Rain Trilogy, #1
Kids, Technology, Fiction, Dystopian, Fiction - YA, Dystopia, Teen
| Author: | Joseph Turkot | ISBN: | 9781497759343 |
| Publisher: | Joseph Turkot | Publication: | October 16, 2013 |
| Imprint: | Language: | English |
| Author: | Joseph Turkot |
| ISBN: | 9781497759343 |
| Publisher: | Joseph Turkot |
| Publication: | October 16, 2013 |
| Imprint: | |
| Language: | English |
There are a lot of stories about how the rain started.
The thing that always comes to mind first isn’t the how though, it’s the how much. Russell still does the math too: 15, 5,400, and 8,550. 15 inches a day, 5,400 a year, and 8,550 feet since the start.
We have no idea if it’s accurate. But it’s important to think about it, he says, because it reminds us to keep moving.
My name is Tanner. Russell takes care of me. Together we push on, surviving, heading to Leadville.
Our story is a fight for food and the warmth and the dry. And a rumor about a place where it isn't raining.
Always on the move, always to higher ground. Always toward Leadville. The town above the water line.
Exposure, pruned hands, infection, and the face eaters stay close to us. Our canoe is no good anymore. Death is everywhere.
And we cling to the last strips of the veneer. Each other.
There are a lot of stories about how the rain started.
The thing that always comes to mind first isn’t the how though, it’s the how much. Russell still does the math too: 15, 5,400, and 8,550. 15 inches a day, 5,400 a year, and 8,550 feet since the start.
We have no idea if it’s accurate. But it’s important to think about it, he says, because it reminds us to keep moving.
My name is Tanner. Russell takes care of me. Together we push on, surviving, heading to Leadville.
Our story is a fight for food and the warmth and the dry. And a rumor about a place where it isn't raining.
Always on the move, always to higher ground. Always toward Leadville. The town above the water line.
Exposure, pruned hands, infection, and the face eaters stay close to us. Our canoe is no good anymore. Death is everywhere.
And we cling to the last strips of the veneer. Each other.
