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ebook
First published February 14, 2014
He could see the white dusts of ash rimming the trunks like snow drifts, coating the bark like fingers dipped in cocaine; even the darkest black was touched with grey.


The slums had taught him only one thing:
be prepared for the worst, because it will happen.
“And the most terrifying question of all may be just how much horror the human mind can stand and still maintain a wakeful, staring, unrelenting sanity.” Stephen King – Pet Semetary.
“Most of the population was wiped out,” Greyson continued, “and those who didn’t die, wished that they had. The rains stopped, the sun dimmed. They had no food, the water was bad, the ground was burnt and dry, everyone was starving and dying of disease.”
This is what our world was, we were just a bandage trying to stem the inevitable.
He was like a stray dog lost in the greywastes, and no stray lasted long as night fell. Not without someone there to watch over him.
That’s when I had noticed him, that’s when I started following him. Because I knew if I didn’t he would die.
The greywastes was a basin overflowing with insanity, the very earth underneath me was only surviving because it was too mad to know it had died.
“They said back home that the ash of the greywastes is the ground up bones of the dead,” Killian said, he held up his grey dirt streaked hands and blew on them. A puff of dust blew from his breath. “That’s why it’s so hard to grow things here.”
“The world is poisoned, that’s why.” I shrugged, rubbing my nose as the loose dust started to creep up the insides.“Nothing good grows in poison.”
“Are they all suppose to be like this?”
Leo stared down at the carnage around them.
“No, he wanted him to be worse,” Leo whispered back. “You know that.
“And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad. The dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had.”
“You’re like a little angel of mercy, huh?”
I wiped my eyes. “And you’re what? The demon of indifference?”
Reaver’s eyes shot up to the window, and quickly found mine. He looked up at me and smiled, the flames flickering in the black depthless eyes. Dancing like dragons in a the pits of hell.
My head was scared, scared of hurting the kid, scared of being hurt myself. Like losing him had hurt, it had brought up so many fucked up emotions I lost my mind. I didn’t want to deal with that again, I hated that I couldn’t feel the good without the bad. It was a notion I wasn’t used too. Being emotionally dead had been so much easier. Seemed like this kid was a drug though, once you had that taste, good luck getting it out of your head. You would just keep upping your dosage until you became hooked. I had already started doing that.
“All of their secrets are going to get us killed.”
One of the most graphically violent novels I have ever read!
The premise of the book sounded really interesting and I have to admit it had possibilities. But the way it was written really spoiled it. First, there is the violence. I get that the world the characters live in is a violent one and some violence is to be expected but what is presented in the book was way over the top. It was just gratuitous and unnecessary. Then there are the descriptions of the several rapes that take place throughout the book. If that is not enough, how about cannibalism as a daily means of survival? Add to that the prevalent drug use that is a continuous part of the plot and it all just got a bit too much. Oh and I don't think the novel was read by an editor at all. There were countless errors throughout. Things like using "heard" instead of "herd" were just the beginning of the issues.
It is really sad too because the story has so much potential. I think if the author got a good editor and they sat down and worked on the book they'd really end up with something great. But as it stands now it's really a disappointment.


(Reaver)This was the fucking greywastes, not a Disney movie. People got raped, people got hit, and people got eaten. He should deal with it.
(Reaver)“Probably,” I said instead. I wondered where their graves were. I wouldn’t mind adding Mrs. Massey’s skull to my collection. She could watch the detestable Reaver fuck her son.
(Jade)The slums had taught him only one thing: be prepared for the worst, because it will happen.
(Killian)I hoped Asher would die in his sleep. We could eat Asher steaks. Now that is someone I would enjoy eating. Or maybe I’d feed him to the deacons just to prove how worthless he was.
I guess Reaver was rubbing off on me.
