Book Two: The Clone Chronicles
The moonlight reflects from the retreating scenery as the train rattles its way down the track. I perch on the back of the car, where I've sat since we managed to escape Los Angeles. The dog sighs next to me, unable or unwilling to sleep. I stroke his soft golden fur with an absent hand as my mind turns as fast as the iron wheels beneath me.
I like it here, alone in the night. Away from Chime's anger and Beckett's answering rage. I can't bring myself to feel anything but guilt. I've brought this upon them all. The pursuit of the Crawlers, the odd yet powerful soldier-like group who have been after me from the beginning. I think I understand why they want me, at least. My ability to kill with an accelerated form of the Sick, the very illness which has lain waste to the population of the Earth, has to be the driving force behind their need to capture me.