By Pam Bachorz
Ruby goals of escaping the Congregation. Escape from slaver Darwin West and his merciless Overseers. get away from the backbreaking paintings of collecting Water. get away from residing as though it's nonetheless 1812, the yr they have been all enslaved. When Ruby meets Ford--an impossible to resist, style, forbidden new Overseer--she longs to run away with him to the fashionable international, the place she may perhaps stay a typical teenage dwell. break out with Ford will be so simple.But if Ruby leaves, her group is condemned to definite demise. She, on my own, own the key factor that makes the Water so special--her blood--and it is the something that the Congregation can't stay without.Drought is the haunting tale of 1 community's thirst for all times, and the damaging fight of the one lady who can provide it.
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We’ll … She’ll cut herself, if she has to,” I say. ” Ellie drops her head, silent for a long time. Finally she draws in a deep breath. ” I stand, but she waves me away. “I know the road. ” She turns to face me. “Waiting is hard. But it’s all we can do, Ruby. ” It comes out as a whisper. “With what tools? ” She shakes her head. ” It is an old fight between us, and one I am too tired to have again tonight. So I clasp her in an embrace and offer her our lantern for the walk home. She refuses it, of course.
Our eyes meet, and I see that his cheeks are truly stained from tears. But I look away, and fast. There’s no good in feeling for this boy. “Take a good look,” Darwin snarls. ” The boy turns his head and vomits into the leaves. He heaves, and heaves, until all that’s left are the sobs ripping out of him. There is no one to console him; Darwin slides away and the Overseers do too. The Congregants, most of them, begin the trudge home. But not all go—as always, Boone stays, and Hope with her new husband, Gabe.
Hurry,” I answer, turning my back on the new Overseer. Chapter 3 By the time we reach the Cabin, it’s gone entirely dark outside. The only sound is our feet scuffing the road—the frogs stopped croaking a few weeks ago, maybe too thirsty for song. Something flits past my head. The bats are out for their breakfast. I’m so hungry. If I could catch bugs, I’d make them my every meal. With Mother hurt so many nights, she hasn’t been able to creep out enough for nighttime trapping. Nobody gets food unless the Overseers give it to us.