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Hominid Origins: Inquiries Past and Present. University Press of America. ISBN In addition to technical books, as at January Reichs has written 21 novels to date, which have been translated into 30 languages. Millions of satisfied customers and climbing. Thriftbooks is the name you can trust, guaranteed. Spend Less. Download it once and read it on your Kindle device, PC, phones or tablets.
Use features like bookmarks, note taking and highlighting while reading Seizure: A Virals Novel. Seizure Reichs Kathy. Dirty rivulets began rolling down his cheeks, gathering at the chin before dropping to the earthen floor. He took no notice. There were no dry places. Outside the dim, moldy cell, beyond a line of rusty steel bars, a red light glowed.
Their sole companion. Shivers racked the girl's body.
She began to whimper. The boy reached without looking and squeezed her shoulder. The crying ceased, replaced by a smattering of snotty hiccups. The red light watched. Time passed, unmarked by any further movement. The whimpers soon returned. This time, the boy didn't bother to reach. Suddenly, a loud bang broke the stillness. Two pairs of eyes darted, nervously probing the impenetrable gloom. The noise repeated, followed by a shriek of metal.
Instinctually, the boy and girl drew closer together. The rasping clatter grew, echoing off the ancient stone walls. A shadow, blacker than the surrounding dark, materialized overhead. The boy and girl watched, breathless, their fingers interlocked. The shadow took form-a bucket. Wooden, bound with frayed rope, and splintered along its sides.
It lowered steadily on a thick metal chain. The bucket lurched to a stop. Dangled five feet from the floor. The boy stood. Cautiously peered over the rim. Inside was a hunk of stale bread, already wilting in the damp, fetid air.
The prisoners attacked the loaf ravenously. Devoured the paltry meal in seconds. The boy shook his head. With a squeal, the pail began to ascend. Angrily, the boy lashed out with both fists, sending the bucket arcing and spinning as it rose. The girl began to weep. The bucket swung its way skyward. Disappeared into the gloom. Water fell. The red light gleamed. In moments, all was dark and silent once more.
Monday What I'd like from you is the truth, Miss Brennan. A jolt of adrenaline tore through me. My mind had wandered. Impossible, I know, given the circumstances.
But a second hour of questioning was taking its toll. And this pompous toolbag showed no signs of winding down. I cleared my throat. Shifted on the witness stand. Parrish sighed dramatically. Parrish sneered, doubling his already abundant collection of chins. No doubt he thought me rattled. Honestly, I was just tired.
Tired, and incredibly on edge. I had to watch every single word. Parrish is impugning the witness before the jury!
His false, incendiary comment must be stricken from-" Judge Felix DeMerit raised a placating hand. Make your case, but she shall be accorded proper treatment. Am I understood? Aimed, and failed.
Though camera crews had been barred from the chamber-due to the presence of minors as witnesses-dozens of other media members packed the gallery. The remaining seats were filled by government officials, police functionaries, members of the Bar, and the city's elite. Armed bailiffs lined the aisles and walls, and double-manned every door. Charleston hadn't seen a trial like this in years, nor dealt with a crime remotely as sensational.
Everyone with enough pull to wrangle access had squeezed onto one of the long wooden benches. To watch me. The fourteen-year-old schoolgirl who'd outsmarted a psychopath. It was Monday, the first day of the year's fourth month.
A local blogger had already dubbed me "April Fool. This isn't an endurance contest, it's a court of law.
Not even close. Despite the courtroom's subarctic temperature, my sweat glands were starting to churn full tilt. I was thankful my Bolton Prep blazer was a deep navy blue. Pit stains do not increase credibility. I fiddled with my ponytail before remembering Harris's advice: Don't fidget.
Sit up straight. Address your answers directly to the jury. Try not to lose your cool. So far, I was struggling on all counts. I hoped my face wasn't paler than my usual Irish white. And that freckles didn't really multiply when you lied, as my mother had warned when I was little. If true, I'd soon be covered head to foot. A quick glance at the jury. All twelve were eyeballing me.
Was that pity in their eyes? I couldn't tell. Wasn't sure I wanted to know. Just get through this. Ben did. So can I.
My gaze flicked to the gallery, though I knew Ben wasn't there. Couldn't be. By rule, one witness can't be present for the testimony of another. To avoid collusion, I think, though it's a stupid rule-if people want to lie, they're going to lie. Because Ben and I were definitely lying. There was no way around it. We couldn't tell the whole truth. Not without exposing what we were.
Revealing the hidden powers we possessed. Announcing our warped DNA to the public. Putting our lives at risk. Not gonna happen. Inadvertently, my eyes drifted to the one spot I'd avoided since taking the stand.
Another set was staring back. No welcome there. Only anger. Oh yes, plenty of that. The Gamemaster beamed pure hatred from his seat at defense counsel's table. He wore a cheap gray suit and a pair of "innocent man" glasses.
But the fake plastic lenses failed to mask his palpable rage. I nearly gasped at its intensity. Had he been glaring at me the whole time? Couldn't everyone see he was crazy? I tore my eyes away, searched for a more comfortable landing spot.
My father manned the first seat of the front row, his mop of curly brown hair disheveled by constant worrying with his fingers. Kit looked equal parts incensed, fretful, and supportive.
Catching my eye, he gave me a firm nod and flashed a thumbs-up. I exhaled slowly. At least one person was in my corner. I knew this day was killing him-Kit had made it abundantly clear that he didn't like my being called as a witness. He didn't want me in the same room as that monster. But Harris had been adamant-Ben and I were the keys to a conviction.