The Twelve (Book Two of The Passage Trilogy): A Novel (Book Two of The Passage Trilogy)

  • 624 pages
  • Anglais
  • Format Kindle
The Twelve (Book Two of The Passage Trilogy): A Novel (Book Two of The Passage Trilogy)

⫸ Free Format Kindle Download [ The Twelve (Book Two of The Passage Trilogy): A Novel (Book Two of The Passage Trilogy) ] ❔ Kindle Ebook Author Justin Cronin ⇵ Read on for an excerpt fromT H E T W E LV Eby Justin CroninPublished by Ballantine BooksBernard Kittridge, known to the world as Last Stand in Denver, realized it was time to leave the morning the power went out.He wondered what had taken so long You couldnt keep a municipal electrical grid running without people to man it, and as far as Kittridge could tell from the nineteenth floor, not a single human soul was left alive in the city of Denver.Which was not to say he was alone.He had passed the early hours of the morninga bright, clear morning in the first week of June, temperatures in the mid seventies with a chance of blood sucking monsters moving in toward dusksunning on the balcony of the penthouse he had occupied since the second week of the crisis It was a gigantic place, like an airborne palace the kitchen alone was the size of Kittridges whole apartment The owners taste ran in an austere direction sleek leather seating groups that were better to look at than sit on, floors of twinkling travertine, small furry rugs, glass tables that appeared to float in space Breaking in had been surprisingly simple By the time Kittridge had made his decision, half the city was dead, or fled, or missing The cops were long gone Hed thought about barricading himself into one of the big houses up in Cherry Creek, but based on the things hed seen, he wanted someplace high The owner of the penthouse was a man he knew slightly, a regular customer at the store His name was Warren Filo As luck would have it, Warren had come into the store the day before the whole thing broke to gear up for a hunting trip to Alaska He was a young guy, too young for how much money he had Wall Street money, probably, or one of those high tech IPOs.On that day, the world still cheerily humming along as usual, Kittridge had helped Warren carry his purchases to the car A Ferrari, of course Standing beside it, Kittridge thought Why not just go ahead and get a vanity plate that says, DOUCHE BAG 1 A question that must have been plainly written on his face, because no sooner had it crossed his mind than Warren went red with embarrassment He wasnt wearing his usual suit, just jeans and a T shirt with SLOAN SCHOOL OF MANAGEMENT on the front Hed wanted Kittridge to see the car, that was obvious, but now that hed allowed this to happen, hed realized how dumb it was, showing off a vehicle like that to a floor manager at Outdoor World who probably made less than fifty grand a year The number was actually forty six Kittridge allowed himself a silent laugh at thatthe things this kid didnt know would fill a bookand he let the moment hang to make the point I know, I know, Warren confessed Its a little much I told myself Id never be one of those assholes who drive a Ferrari But honest to God, you should feel the way she handles.Kittridge had gotten Warrens address off his invoice By the time he moved inWarren presumably snug and safe in Alaskait was simply a matter of finding the right key in the managers office, putting it into the slot in the elevator panel, and riding eighteen floors to the penthouse He unloaded his gear A rolling suitcase of clothes, three lockers of weaponry, a hand crank radio, night vision binoculars, flares, a first aid kit, bottles of bleach, an arc welder to seal the doors of the elevator, his trusty laptop with its portable satellite dish, a box of books, and enough food and water to last a month The view from the balcony, which ran the length of the west side of the building, was a sweeping 180 degrees, looking toward Interstate 25 and Mile High field Hed positioned cameras equipped with motion detectors at each end of the balcony, one to cover the street, a second facing the building on the opposite side of the avenue He figured hed get a lot of good footage this way, but the money shots would be actual kills The weapon hed selected was a Remington bolt action 700P,.338 caliber a nice balance of accuracy and stopping power, zeroing out at three hundred yards To this hed affixed a digital video scope with infrared Using the binoculars, he would isolate his target the rifle, mounted on a bipod at the edge of the balcony, would do the rest.On the first night, windless and lit by a waning quarter moon, Kittridge had shot seven five on the avenue, one on the opposite roof, and one through the window of a bank at street level It was the last one that made him famous The creature, or vampire, or whatever it wasthe official term was Infected Personhad looked straight into the lens just before Kittridge put one through the sweet spot Uploaded to YouTube, the image had traveled around the globe within hours by morning all the major networks had picked it up Who is this man everyone wanted to know Who is this fearless crazy suicidal man, barricaded in a Denver high rise, making his last stand And so was born the sobriquet, Last Stand in Denver.From the start hed assumed it was just a matter of time before somebody shut him down, CIA or NSA or Homeland He was making quite a stir Working in his favor was the fact that this same somebody would have to come to Denver to pull the plug Kittridges IP address was functionally untraceable, backstopped by a daisy chain of anonymizer servers, their order scrambled every night Most were overseas Russia, China, Indonesia, Israel, Sudan Places beyond easy reach for any federal agency that might want to pull the plug His video blog two million hits the first dayhad than three hundred mirror sites, with added all the time It didnt take a week before he was a bona fide worldwide phenomenon Twitter, Facebook, Headshot, Sphere the images found their way into the ether without his lifting a finger One of his fan sites alone had than four million subscribers T shirts that read, I AM LAST STAND IN DENVER were selling like hotcakes His father had always said, Son, the most important thing in life is to make a contribution Who would have thought Kittridges contribution would be video blogging from the front lines of the apocalypse And yet the world went on The sun still shone To the west, the mountains shrugged their indifferent rocky bulk at mans departure For a while, there had been a lot of smokewhole blocks had burned to the groundbut now this had dissipated, revealing the desolation with eerie clarity At night, regions of blackness blotted the city, but elsewhere, lights still glittered in the gloomflickering streetlamps, filling stations and convenience stores with their distinctive fluorescent glow, porch lights left burning for their owners return While Kittridge maintained his vigil on the balcony, a traffic signal eighteen floors below still dutifully turned from green to yellow to red and then to green again.He wasnt lonely Loneliness had left him, long ago He was thirty four years old A little heavier than he would have likedwith his leg, it was hard to keep the weight offbut still strong Hed been married once, years before He remembered that period of his life as twenty months of oversexed, connubial bliss, followed by an equal number of months of yelling and screaming, accusations and counteraccusations, until the whole thing sank like a rock, and he was content, on the whole, that this union had produced no children His connection to Denver was neither sentimental nor personal after hed gotten out of the VA, it was simply where hed landed Everyone said that a decorated veteran should have little trouble finding work And maybe this was true But Kittridge had been in no hurry Hed spent the better part of a year just readingthe usual stuff at first, cop novels and thrillers, but eventually had found his way to substantial books As I Lay Dying, For Whom the Bell Tolls, Huckleberry Finn, The Great Gatsby Hed spent a whole month on Melville, drilling his way through Moby Dick Most were books he felt he ought to read, the ones hed somehow missed in school, but he genuinely liked most of them Sitting in the quiet of his studio apartment, his mind lost in tales of other lives and times, felt like taking a long drink after years of thirst Hed even enrolled in a few classes at the community college, working at Outdoor World during the day, reading and writing his papers at nights and on his lunch hour There was something in the pages of these books that had the power to make him feel better about things, a life raft to cling to before the dark currents of memory washed him downstream again, and on brighter days, he could even see himself going on this way for some time A small but passable life And then, of course, the end of the world had happened.The morning the electricity failed, Kittridge had finished uploading the previous nights footage and was sitting on the patio, reading his way through Dickens A Tale of Two Cities the English barrister Sydney Carton had just declared his everlasting love for Lucie Manette, the fiance of the haplessly idealistic Charles Darnaywhen the thought touched him that the morning could only be improved by a dish of ice cream Warrens enormous kitchenyou could run a five star restaurant out of the thinghad been, unsurprisingly, almost completely bereft of food, and Kittridge had long since thrown away the moldy take out containers that had constituted the meager contents of the fridge But the guy obviously had a weakness for Ben and Jerrys Chocolate Fudge Brownie, because the freezer was crammed with the stuff Not Chunky Monkey or Cherry Garcia or Phish Food or even plain old vanilla Just Chocolate Fudge Brownie Kittridge would have liked some variety, considering there was going to be no ice cream for a while, but with little else to eat besides canned soup and crackers, he was hardly going to complain Balancing his book on the arm of his chair, he rose and stepped through the sliding glass door into the penthouse By the time he reached the kitchen, he had begun to sense that something was off kilter, although this impression had yet to coalesce around anything specific It wasnt until he opened the carton and sank his spoon into a soft mush of melted Chocolate Fudge Brownie that he fully understood.He tried a light switch Nothing He moved through the apartment, testing lamps and switches All were the same.He paused in the middle of the living room and took a deep breath Okay, he thought Okay This was to be expected If anything, this was long overdue He checked his watch 9 32 A.M Sunset was a little after eight Ten and a half hours to get his ass gone.He quickly packed a rucksack protein bars, bottles of water, clean socks and underwear, his first aid kit, a warm jacket, a bottle of Zyrtec his allergies had been playing hell with him all spring , a toothbrush, and a razor For a moment he considered bringing A Tale of Two Cities along, but this seemed impractical, and with a twinge of regret he put it aside In the bedroom he dressed himself in a wicking T shirt and cargo pants, topping this off with a hunting vest and a pair of light hikers For a few minutes he considered which weapons to take before finally settling on a Bowie knife, a pair of Glock 19s, and the retrofit ted Polish AK with the folding stock useless at any kind of range but reliable close in, which was where he expected to be The Glocks fit snugly in a cross draw holster He filled the pockets of his vest with loaded magazines, clipped the AK to its shoulder sling, hoisted the backpack over his shoulders, and returned to the patio.That was when he noticed the traffic signal on the avenue Green, yellow, red Green, yellow, red It could have been a fluke, but he somehow doubted it.Theyd found him.The rope was anchored to a drainage stack on the roof He stepped into his rappelling harness, clipped in, and swung first his good leg and then his bad one over the railing Heights were no problem for him, and yet he did not look down He was perched on the edge of the balcony, facing the windows of the penthouse From the distance he heard the sound of an approaching helicopter.Last Stand in Denver, signing off.With a push he was aloft, his body lobbing down and away One story, two stories, three, the rope smoothly sliding through his hands he landed on the balcony of the apartment four floors below A familiar twang of pain shot upward from his left knee he gritted his teeth to force it away The helicopter was closer now, the sound of its blades volleying off the buildings and echoing through the empty streets below He peeled off his harness, drew one of the Glocks, and fired a single shot to shatter the glass of the balcony door.The air of the apartment was stale, like the inside of a cabin sealed for winter Heavy furniture, gilt mirrors, an oil painting of a horse hung over the fireplace from somewhere wafted the stench of decay He moved through the becalmed space with barely a glance At the front door he paused to attach a spotlight to the rail of the AK and stepped out into the hall, headed for the stairs.In his pocket were the keys to the Ferrari, parked in the buildings underground garage, sixteen floors below Kittridge shouldered open the door of the stairwell, quickly sweeping the space with the beam from the AK, up and down Clear He withdrew a flare from his vest and used his teeth to unscrew the plastic top, exposing the igniter button With a combustive pop, the flare commenced its rain of sparks Kittridge held it over the side, taking aim, and let go if there was anything down there, hed know it soon His eyes followed the flare as it made its descent, dragging a contrail of smoke Somewhere below it nicked the rail and bounced out of sight Kittridge counted to ten Nothing, no movement at all.He began to descend Three flares later he reached the bottom a heavy steel door with a push bar and a small square of reinforced glass led to the garage The floor was littered with trash pop cans, candy bar wrappers, tins of food A rumpled bedroll and a pile of musty clothing showed where someone had been sleepinghiding, as he had.Kittridge had scouted out the parking garage the day of his arrival The Ferrari was parked near the southwest corner, a distance of approximately two hundred feet He probably should have moved it closer to the door, but it had taken him three days to locate Warrens keyswho kept his car keys in a bathroom drawer by which time hed already barricaded himself inside the penthouse.The fob had four buttons two for the doors, one for the alarm, and one that, he hoped, was a remote starter He pressed this one first.From deep within the garage came a tart, single noted bleep, followed by the throaty roar of the Ferraris engine Another mistake the Ferrari was parked nose to the wall He should have thought of that Not only would this slow his escape if the car had been facing the opposite way, its headlights would have given him a better look at the garages interior All he could make out though the stairwell doors tiny window was a distant, glowing region where the car awaited, a cat purring in the dark The rest of the garage was veiled in blackness The infected liked to hang from things ceiling struts, pipes, anything with a tactile surface The tiniest fissure would suffice When they came, they came from above The moment of decision was upon him Toss flares and see what happens Move stealthily through the darkness, seeking cover Throw open the door and run like hell Then, from high overhead, Kittridge heard the creak of an opening stairwell door Kittridge held his breath and listened, parsing the sound There were two of them He stepped back from the door and craned his neck upward Ten stories above, a pair of red dots were dancing off the walls He shoved the door open and ran like hell.He had made it halfway to the Ferrari when the first viral dropped behind him There was no time to turn and fire Kittridge kept on going The pain in his knee felt like a wick of flame, an ice pick buried to the bone From the periphery of his senses came a tingling awareness of beings awakening, the garage coming to life He threw open the door of the Ferrari, tossed the AK and rucksack onto the passenger seat, got in, and slammed the door The vehicle was so low slung he felt like he was sitting on the ground The dashboard, full of mysterious gauges and switches, glowed like a spacecrafts Something was missing Where was the gear shift A wang of metal, and Kittridges vision filled with the sight of it The viral had bounded onto the hood, folding its body into a reptilian crouch Kittridges heart jolted For a frozen moment it regarded him coolly, a predator contemplating its prey It was naked except for a wristwatch, a gleaming Rolex fat as an ice cube Warren Kittridge thought, for the man had been wearing one like it the day Kittridge had walked him to the car Warren, old buddy, is that you Because if it is, I wouldnt mind a word of advice on how to get this thing in gear.He discovered, then, with the tips of his fingers, a pair of levers positioned on the undersides of the steering wheel Paddle shifters He should have thought of that, too Up on the right, down on the left, like a motorcycle Reverse would be a button somewhere on the dash The one with the R, genius That one.He pushed the button and hit the gas Too fast with a squeal of smoking rubber, the Ferrari jolted backward and slammed into a concrete post Kittridge was hurled back into his seat, then tossed forward again, his head smacking the heavy glass of the side window with an audible thud His brain chimed like a tuning fork particles of silver light danced in his eyes There was something interesting about them, interesting and beautiful, but another voice inside him said that to contemplate this vision, even for a moment, was to die The viral, having tumbled off the hood, was rising from the floor now No doubt it would try to take him straight through the windshield.Two red dots appeared on the virals chest.With a birdlike quickness, the creature broke its gaze from Kittridge and launched toward the soldiers coming through the stairwell door Kittridge swung the steering wheel and gripped the right paddle, engaging the transmission as he pressed the accelerator A lurch and then a leap of speed he was thrust back into his seat as he heard a blast of automatic weapon fire Just when he thought hed lose control of the car again he found the straightaway, the walls of the garage streaming past The soldiers had bought him only a moment a quick glimpse in the rearview and Kittridge beheld, in the glow of his taillights, what appeared to be the detonation of a human body, an explosive strewing of parts The second soldier was nowhere visible, though if Kittridge had to bet, hed say the man was surely dead already, torn to bloody hunks.He didnt look back again.The ramp to the street was located two floors above, at the far end of the garage, which was laid out like a maze there was no direct route As Kittridge downshifted into the first corner, engine roaring, tires shrieking, two virals dropped from the ceiling, into his path One fell under his wheels with a damp crunch, but the second leapt over the roof of the barreling Ferrari, striding it like a hurdler Kittridge felt a stab of wonder, even of admiration In school, Kittridge had learned that you couldnt catch a fly with your hand because time was different to a fly in a flys brain, a second was an hour, an hour was a year Thats what the virals were like Like beings outside of time.They were everywhere now, emerging from all the hidden places They flung themselves at the car like suicides, driven by the madness of their hunger He tore through them, bodies flying, their monstrous, distorted faces colliding with the windshield before being hurled up and over, away Two turns and hed be free, but one was clinging to the roof now Kittridge braked around the corner, fishtailing on the slick cement, the force of his deceleration sending the viral rolling onto the hood.A woman she appeared to be wearing, of all things, a wedding gown Gouging her fingers into the gap at the base of the windshield, she drew herself onto all fours Her mouth, a bear trap of blood lined teeth, was open very wide a tiny golden crucifix dangled at the base of her throat Im sorry about your wedding, Kittridge thought as he drew one of the pistols, steadied it over the steering wheel, and fired through the windshield He blasted around the final corner ahead, a shaft of golden daylight showed the way Kittridge hit the ramp doing seventy miles an hour, still accelerating The exit was sealed by a metal grate, but this fact seemed meager, no obstacle at all Kittridge took aim, plunged the pedal to the floor, and ducked A furious crash for two full seconds, an eternity in miniature, the Ferrari went airborne It rocketed into the sunshine, concussing the pavement with a bone jarring bang, sparks flying from the undercarriage Freedom at last, but now he had another problem there was nothing to stop him He was going to careen into the lobby of the bank across the street As Kittridge bounced across the median, he stamped the brake and swerved to the left, bracing for the impact But there was no need with a screech of smoking rubber, the tires bit and held, and the next thing Kittridge knew he was flying down the avenue, into the spring morning He had to admit it What had Warrens exact words been You should feel the way she handles.It was true Kittridge had never driven anything like it in his exhilarating as The Passage, with people variously trapped in hideous bleak labour camps, engaging in cage fights with virals Cronin s name for vampires or chained up for decades SUNDAY TIMES For fans of apocalyptic thrillers who aren t afraid of the dark GLAMOUR.COM The Passage was smart, well crafted and entertaining The Twelve delivers much of the same vitality and vision Like it s predecessor, it is a strange new creature for the 21st century The literary superthriller, driven at once by character and plot INTERNATIONAL HERALD TRIBUNE The follow up to the much lauded The Passage deepens and darkens the apocalyptic events of the first book BELFAST TELEGRAPH A literary superthriller NEW YORK TIMES BOOK REVIEW A compulsive read SAN FRANCISCO CHRONICLE Read the Big Book and Twelve Steps Twelve Alcoholics Anonymous Formats in which can be read To a PDF version of Fourth Edition click here listen to an audio The Stones The Stones, Kindle edition by RJ Johnson Download it once on your device, PC, phones or tablets Use features Two Passage Trilogy A A Novel Justin Cronin Books BOOK TWELVE prophecies Chapter spiritual condition churches America economic military USA Great Treachery among leaders this nation Twelve Restaurant Lounge Bar is located Lancashire coast at Marsh Mill Village Our emphasis providing fresh produce locally sourced exquisite food Minor Prophets Wikipedia Aramaic , Trei Asar, occasionally Twelve, last book Nevi im, second Years Slave memoir slave narrative American Solomon Northup as told edited David Wilson Northup, black man who was born free Friends Bill W Step Prayersfromthe Big Prayers were created using text used develop prayers are shown end prayer for itself has quite bit politics interspersed with general life advice s unusually political self helpJustin een Amerikaanse auteur Hij won onder andere voor zijn fictie de PEN Hemingway Award, Stephen Crane Prize en Whiting Writer Award bol artikelen kopen Alle online Op zoek naar van Artikelen koop je eenvoudig online bij bol Vele aanbiedingen Gratis De oversteek trilogie oversteek, geboren getogen New England Verenigde Staten studeerde af aan Universiteit Harvard volgde Iowa Writers Workshop Official Author Website Enter the JUSTIN CRONIN York Times bestselling author Passage, City Mirrors, Mary O Neil, Summer Guest He written five novels De Boek recensies Hebban zesjarige Amy Harper Belafonte, verlaten door haar moeder, dertiende proefpersoon geheim project overheid Een Passage In phenomenon unforgettable tale that critics readers compared Cormac McCarthy, Michael twaalf Nadat wereld bijna ten ging medisch experiment, proberen Twaalf wat mensen te overleven tussen besmette justin cronin jccronin Twitter latest Tweets from justin Sentence cuddler Diction doer Syntax yenta trilogy, other word things Houston, TX NU Het laatste nieuws het pagina apocalyptische huiver met visionaire gehalte Monkeys zo goed als om zeep er nog over is, dat moeite waard The Twelve (Book Two of The Passage Trilogy): A Novel (Book Two of The Passage Trilogy)

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