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“It’s not pragmatic,” Marasi said. “It’s cannibalism.” “Technically it’s not, as we’re different species. Honestly, if you look at our physiology, I share less in common with humans than you do with a cow—and nobody gasps when you eat one of those.
Technically, every person in the world was dying—they were merely doing it very slowly.
The snow crunched when he dropped into it. He hadn’t expected that—the only snow he’d seen had been the occasional flurry up in the Roughs, and it never got anywhere near this deep. Why would it crunch? The stuff was made of water, not cereal flakes.
“You think hell is in the sky?” Steris asked, standing close to Wax, practically clinging to him. “Of course it is,” Allik said. “Dig down deep enough in the ground, and things get warm. Hell must be the other way.
