First published in the United States of America by Viking, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, 2017

This edition published in 2019

By Egmont UK Limited

The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN

Text copyright © 2017 Max Brallier

Illustrations copyright © 2017 Douglas Holgate

The moral rights of the author and illustrator have been asserted.

First e-book edition 2019

ISBN 978 1 4052 9511 6

Ebook ISBN 978 1 7803 1819 6

www.egmont.co.uk

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Stay safe online. Any website addresses listed in this book are correct at the time of going to print. However, Egmont is not responsible for content hosted by third parties. Please be aware that online content can be subject to change and websites can contain content that is unsuitable for children. We advise that all children are supervised when using the internet.

For Chewy – always and forever ready for adventure. Catch you on the flip-flop, good buddy.

– M. B.

For Scott, Ainslie, and Reuben

– D. H.

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Map of Wakefield

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

chapter six

chapter seven

chapter eight

chapter nine

chapter ten

chapter eleven

chapter twelve

chapter thirteen

chapter fourteen

chapter fifteen

chapter sixteen

chapter seventeen

chapter eighteen

chapter nineteen

chapter twenty

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Back series promotional page

chapter one

Want to know what the most fantastically radical game ever is?

I can tell you.

It’s Real-Life Super Mario Kart.

And we’re playing it right now.

My best buddies – Quint, June, and Dirk – are racing through town in post-apocalyptic vehicles of awesomeness: souped-up bumper cars that we call BoomKarts.

Dirk built the BoomKarts, and Quint loaded ’em up with wicked vehicular combat coolness: paintball blasters, defensive marble spillers, spiked tyres, gas-powered slingshots – the works.

But me, Jack Sullivan? I don’t need a BoomKart because I race atop my awesome monster-dog, Rover.

There’s a reason for this game of Real-Life Super Mario Kart. I noticed that the energy and enthusiasm levels of my buddies were a little low. I mean, I was having trouble distinguishing them from the zombies . . .

So I was like, ‘WE NEED EXCITEMENT! And what’s more exciting than building an epic go-kart course with jumps, oil slicks, and a spinning speedway through creepy old man Aiken’s house?’

That’s one of the perks of life after the Monster Apocalypse – you can build giant Mario Kart-style tracks through your hometown.

Right now, June’s winning, and I must take her out! She’s claimed first place three races in a row! I yank my T-shirt cannon from Rover’s saddlebag and . . .

Direct hit! June’s kart slices around the corner, spins, then slams into the local fire station.

‘Don’t mess with the king!’ I shout. Rover woofs triumphantly as we stampede into first place. But I throw a glance behind me and see June’s BoomKart is all busted up.

Crud. The idea is to win, not to knock your buddies unconscious! I know a good amount about buddies, ’cause I have the best buddies, and I’m quite sure they don’t like being knocked out.

I tug on Rover’s reins and he turns. ‘June, you OK?’ I begin to call out, but then –

THWACK! The football knocks me clean out of Rover’s saddle. I fall onto the grass. Surprise football crossbow booms are the worst.

‘Your problem, Jack, is that you’re too nice,’ June teases. ‘You don’t have that competitive spirit like me.’

She’s about to speed ahead when something INSANE happens.

And I don’t use the term ‘INSANE’ lightly, since pretty much everything that happens during the Monster Apocalypse could be classified as insane or, at the very minimum, pretty much bonkers bananas.

We hear a voice.

A human voice.

I can’t make out the words, but the voice is coming from inside the fire station. We’ve seen or heard zero other humans since the Monster Apocalypse began. So like I said, yeah, INSANE.

June and I are instantly hurrying to the station and pressing our ears to the red metal door.

We hear the voice again.

June looks at me, eyes bulging. CONFIRMED: this is both INSANE and BONKERS BANANAS.

I spin around, cupping my hands to my mouth. ‘Quint! Dirk! Time-out!’

‘No way, friend!’ Quint shouts as his BoomKart whips around the corner. ‘Not falling for that ruse again!’

‘Not a ruse time-out! A real time-out!’ I shout. ‘Really real!’

June points out that I should not be yelling, since we have no clue who is inside the fire station. Good point. I do a quick brain scan of possibilities – and the results are pretty gnarly . . .

Tyres screech, and Quint and Dirk skid to a stop and hop from their BoomKarts. ‘What’s up?’ Dirk asks.

‘Human-sounding voices,’ June whispers. ‘Inside the fire station!’

‘We’ve never investigated the fire station,’ Quint says. ‘I am quite curious.’

‘Of course you’re curious!’ I say. ‘We haven’t heard a single other human voice in months! We’ve heard monster voices, but those are all, like, deep and monster-y. The only human voices we’ve heard are our own.’

Suddenly, my mind is in a whole different place, thinking about how I had no idea my voice was nasally, and could that possibly explain years of difficulty making friends, ’cause who wants to be friends with the kid with the lousy voice, but if it’s nasally, why did no one tell me before, I could have worked on it, even tried to put on a cool Australian accent or something, maybe even –

‘Jack!’ June snaps me back to attention, hooking a thumb at the fire station door. Dirk is tugging the handle, opening the door, and –

‘Watch out!’ June cries. A hefty undead fire chief is swiping at Quint!

Quint immediately curls up into a ball and plays dead like it’s a bear attack. Thankfully, Dirk is there. He snags both zombies by their ankles and using his ludicrous strength –

We hurry inside the station before the other zombies can get their awful arms around us. Rover bolts in behind us, barely squeezing through, and – SLAM! – I throw the door shut.

The fire station is chilly, and the whole place smells like rotted people and spoiled cheesesteaks and old Chinese takeout.

But what, exactly, do we see inside?

Pretty much nothing. Now that the zombies are gone, the fire station is empty.

So who did we just hear talking? It definitely wasn’t the zombies, ’cause they don’t talk – they moan.

‘C’mon,’ I say. ‘We’ll check every room. Someone was in here yapping away.’

Moving together for prime safety and battle readiness, we search the station.

We soon determine that there is no one else – zombie or non-zombie – inside the station. I lean against a dusty fire truck. ‘I don’t get this,’ I say. ‘We heard voices!’

And then it happens. Again.

IT.

Capital letters ‘IT’ ’cause IT is BIG.

We hear the voice. It’s coming from a radio . . .

My heart just about seizes up and my blood starts pumping to the rhythm of Holy. Moley. Holy. Moley. Holy. Moley.

June dashes toward the radio, kneeling, practically sliding across the floor. ‘We’re here!’ she cries. ‘We are here! Come in! Repeat, we are here! Other people! Humans! Four of us!’

And then it comes again: ‘REPEATING, THIS IS – STATIC, CRACKLE – WE ARE – CRACKLE – RESPOND IF – STATIC – WE WILL TRY AGAIN IN – STATIC, CRACKLE –’

The radio cuts off completely then. No hissing static. Just total silence. The broadcast, it appears, is over.

June gently reaches out and places her hand on the radio, like it’s some ancient magic artefact. Her eyes are saucers. ‘I don’t get it. I tried to respond,’ she says. ‘But they didn’t hear . . .’

After a quick examination of the radio, Quint says, ‘We can’t respond. This is a radio scanner – one way only.’

June sinks. ‘Oh.’

‘Do not distress,’ Quint says. ‘Simply hearing from other humans is huge! However, the signal is weak. That’s why there was so much static. Let’s get it back to the tree house. I can look into amplifying the signal.’

June looks hard at the radio. She gently chews her lower lip, and then she just about explodes . . . Dirk just stands stiff, arms crossed. But after a moment, his mouth forms a wide, square smile.

My friends are just really really happy. And there isn’t much that’s better than watching your friends be just really really happy.

I once heard some old grey-haired lady say that the best part of holidays was giving gifts, not getting them. And I thought, lady, you’re a lunatic – getting a bunch of stuff is the total greatest. Now I grew up an orphan, so holidays were never, like, Home Alone-style big, but still, c’mon. Free gifts, yo!

But now I understand what that old grey-haired lady meant.

‘Well, come on! Let’s go!’ June exclaims. ‘What are we waiting for?! Whoever’s talking – we’ve got to find them! Now! No delay!’

Quint shakes his head. ‘June, we don’t know where to start. When the Monster Apocalypse began, there were rumours that some people had gone out west. But that was months ago! That broadcast could be coming from anywhere ! A different country, even! We need to know where those humans are before we do anything.’

‘Oh,’ June says. ‘Right.’

Suddenly, I have this odd feeling in my stomach – a creeping feeling of confused fright.

‘Guys,’ I say. ‘I just want to point out – the voice was really static-y and faint.’

June squeezes my hand. ‘Jack, that doesn’t matter. What matters is, there are people still alive. There are other humans out there! We are not the last –’

The fire station shakes, shudders, and bits of tile and dust sprinkle down. Something just landed on the roof . . . Something big.

Dirk and I head to the third floor to check out the roof situation. I quietly hoist open a window – whatever is on the roof is big, and I have zero interest in alerting it to my presence.

‘Be careful,’ Dirk says.

‘Look who you’re talking to!’ I reply, grinning as I bump his fist.

‘I know who I’m talking to. That’s why I said it.’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ I mutter. I inch out the window and onto the ledge. I shimmy over and grip the drainpipe.

Glancing down, I notice that the firefighter zombies are gone. Whatever this big thing on the roof is scared the zombies away. And I don’t like that . . .

Pulling my way up, I peek over the ledge.

And I gulp.

A big gulp.

Like I just swallowed a softball.

I’m looking at some sort of terrible flying beast. This monster slightly resembles a Winged Wretch, but it’s, like – WAY BIGGER and WAY MORE BLOODCURDLING. Oh, and if you’re unfamiliar, this is a Winged Wretch . . .

I haven’t made a sound, but the monster’s head suddenly swings down toward me. As if he senses me there. His eyes, like, look into mine and it’s totally freaky and I feel frozen. This thing is horribly horrifying. There are scars on his face, like he’s been around the block a few times. Fear causes my fingers to squeeze the drainpipe, gripping tighter and tighter and, well . . .

A moment later, Dirk is yanking the entire drainpipe inside. I scramble off, happy to be on solid ground. I rush downstairs and my voice cracks as I say: ‘Dudes. It’s bad. The thing up there is like a Winged Wretch but bigger !

REALLY BIG. And not pleasant looking. I know everyone’s excited about the radio, but we are now trapped inside this fire station.’

‘I must remind you,’ Quint says, ‘it is very important that we escape with both our lives and the radio.’

‘We could just wait the monster out?’ June suggests.

The instant June says that, the building quakes and ceiling chunks crash to the floor. The monster’s talons are tightening around the walls.

‘I don’t think waiting him out is an option . . .’ I say quietly.

So with that, I announce a plan that kind of sounds thought-out, but I’m actually totally making up as I go. ‘Here’s the deal,’ I say. ‘I’m going to ride Rover straight out, a full-on stampede. That will distract this big flying freak while you hop in your BoomKarts and escape. Then we’ll meet back at the tree house. Fun, right? Smart, right? Brave, right?’

Everyone begins protesting, telling me how dumb that plan is, but in my head I’m just thinking that right now, this moment – I need to protect my buddies.

I take the radio from June – and I can see she’s reluctant to let it go. ‘Don’t worry,’ I say as I slip the radio into Rover’s saddlebag. ‘I’ll keep it safe. Promise.’

And before anyone can say anything else, Dirk’s lifting the fire engine garage door open, and . . .

chapter two

I hear a swirling, deafening thunderclap, followed by the sound of walloping wings and crumbling brick. I throw a glance over my shoulder. The flying terror is rocketing after us.

‘This may not have been an A-plus plan, Rover. Possibly more of a C-minus plan. So . . . FASTER! ’ I cry, and Rover’s paws slam the pavement.

The monster’s wings are beating, air clapping, the sound of the swooping louder and louder. I feel the airborne enemy at my back, and then –

I smack into the street, flipping and flopping like a fish. My nose cracks against my knee, and I immediately feel blood bubbling inside my nostrils. I ignore it, suck air, then scramble to my feet – just in time to see the beast’s massive front talons pierce Rover’s hide.

Rover yelps as –

‘NO!’ I shriek.

The monster zooms low, dragging Rover across the pavement. The sound of pained scraping fills my ears while dread floods my stomach.

Rover suddenly snarls and – SLASH! – strikes with his claws, smacking the Wretch’s talons. Rover is released. He plunges into the pavement – cracking, bouncing, and flipping across the ground.

He rolls to a stop.

He’s on his side.

Not moving.

‘Rover!’ I cry as I speed down the street. My monster-dog has been hauled and tossed, like, fifty feet. ‘Oh no,’ I say, dropping to one knee beside him.

I scratch the thick, soft hair behind Rover’s ears.

The monster’s wings beat and snap. He’s swooping toward me and Rover, returning to finish what he started.

But then I hear voices yelling.

I snap my head around and see my friends –

Quint is a very literal person.

But the beast is not distracted.

The monster’s focus is only on Rover and me. He screams through the sky. His wings smack the ground, and debris whirls as he rockets toward us.

Three hundred feet and closing in.

Two hundred feet and closing in.

One hundred feet and closing in.

The monster’s dragon-like mouth opens, and I see an army of thick fangs. I gulp. But suddenly, the monster’s wings snap to his sides and his legs stab forward.

It feels like an earthquake as his talons slam into the street, claws digging into the asphalt.

I crane my neck to look up at the monster – and I see him, fully and 100 percent clearly for the first time. He is bigger than any Winged Wretch. In fact, it’s more like . . .

-The King Wretch!-

The smell of my own blood in my nose does nothing to lessen the terror. But Rover yowls behind me, and my fear is replaced by furious rage at the big ugly fiend that hurt my friend.

I draw my blade – the Louisville Slicer. It’s basically my post-apocalyptic baseball bat version of a lightsaber.

It is the weapon that felled Blarg, the ancient evil.

It is the weapon that sliced open the great Wormungulous.

It is the weapon that, hopefully, is going to save our butts right now.

I step forward, putting myself between the King Wretch and my injured friend. The monster takes heavy, planet-rocking steps forward until he towers over Rover and me.

My mouth is dry. It takes me a moment to speak – but when I do, I roar –

The King Wretch’s colossal cranium dips and lowers until we’re nearly eye to eye. The monster glances down at Rover and then up to me – staring into my eyes, peering into my pupils.

Something catches in my throat. The back of my neck goes tingly.

And then I feel soda bubbles in my brain . . .

chapter three

It’s like the King Wretch looks through my eyeballs, beyond, and straight into my brain – like he’s gazing deep into my soul. My vision clouds. Everything begins to go black.

My body is loose. Wobbly.

It’s strange, but – I think I’m falling asleep. On my feet. Everything is becoming very –

SCREECH!

Squealing tyres snap me out of my strange waking slumber. I manage to turn and see –

The King Wretch glances at my friends and our BoomKart weaponry, then his head swings back to me. There’s something in his chilling eyes and dripping fangs that resembles a sly smile. I see – I know – this monster has zero fear of me or my buds.

But he leaves anyway.

The King Wretch gives me a final look – a once-over – and then shoots into the sky with a burst of beating wings. His tail snaps the pavement as he rockets away, winging, curving, and slicing into the distance.

The soda bubbles in my brain are fading away and my head is feeling halfway normal again. I drop to my buddy. ‘Rover, you OK?’

Rover shakes his head like he’s knocking the cobwebs loose, then gets to his feet. He looks OK, although there’s an anger on his face that I’ve never seen – like he wouldn’t mind seeing that King Wretch again.

Like he wouldn’t mind a bit of revenge.

Suddenly, June gasps. She’s frantically ripping open Rover’s saddlebag. ‘The radio!’ she exclaims. ‘It’s busted up!’

June’s face has gone pale and she looks like she’s about to vomit, but Quint and Dirk save the moment.

‘I promise to repair it, June,’ Quint says.

‘Like the geek said,’ Dirk adds, ‘we’ll fix it. No question.’

June nods and breathes a shaky sigh of relief. ‘OK . . .’

I stare into the distance. I watch the King Wretch fading, getting small, and finally disappearing behind the crumbling Wakefield skyline.

With any luck, that’s the last we’ll be seeing of that beast.

So things are different now.

A lot different.

And not just different since before the Monster Apocalypse.

I mean different since the last time you saw us. In the past month, things have changed A TONNE.

Here’s a quick recap for those, like myself, with crummy memories. Six months ago, there was a Monster Apocalypse. Doors opened above the Earth, and suddenly monsters and beings from a different dimension were propelled into our world – along with the horrible zombie plague. It looked a bit like this . . .

A bunch of these monsters took up residence at our local slice shop, Joe’s Pizza. And they weren’t evil – they were terrifying-at-first-but-totally-friendly-in-the-end monsters.

However, one of the monsters was actually pure evil. His name was Thrull, and he worshipped the diabolical ultra-villain Ŗeżżőcħ the Ancient, Destructor of Worlds. Thrull was trying to bring Ŗeżżőcħ to Earth so that Ŗeżżőcħ could devour and destroy our planet.

Me, my human buddies, and the Joe’s Pizza monster crew teamed up to defeat Thrull and Ŗeżżőcħ. But Ŗeżżőcħ may try to return. See, he’s got a whole Emperor Palpatine vibe to him. Very sinister, possibly bad skin.

So these days, my human buddies and the good-dude monsters live in awesome harmony in Wakefield Town Square. It used to be a boring old suburban town. But now it’s Monster City!

When my friends and I get back from our run-in with the King Wretch, we’re greeted by Biggun. He’s the biggest of all the friendly monsters. He stands guard at the entrance to the Town Square, day and night, rain or shine or regular in-the-middle cloudiness. Doesn’t talk. He’s basically the town bouncer.

The monsters have turned the crumbling Wakefield Town Square into a busy, bustling monster home – a place where all are welcome.

‘Hey-ya, Jack!’ a monster named Pogvane says.

‘Dirk, we arm wrestling later?’ the monster Etagg calls out.

‘June, you must show me how to prepare your fried macaroni recipe!’ another monster says.

Strolling through town, my heart swells. I’ve just never felt more complete. It’s like walking down the hall at school, and everyone knows you, everyone says hey, everyone wants to chat. It’s a feeling I’d never had – a feeling I could only imagine until now.

It’s camaraderie.

Besides that awesome human-monster camaraderie, the best part of our Town Square home is that it’s totally zombie-free – and that’s thanks to our monster friend Bardle . . .

-Bardle-

Bardle and Quint designed torches to keep the zombies away. You know those candles you light in the summer to keep mosquitos away? It’s like that. We call them Zom-B-Gone torches. They surround the Town Square, so we don’t have to worry about zombies popping up at inopportune moments and, y’know, eating us.

The Zom-B-Gone torches might maybe work on Winged Wretches, too, because other than that big ol’ King Wretch, we haven’t seen many of those around lately. Not that I’m complaining.

Anyway, in Wakefield Town Square, there’s always something fun going down. For example:

• One day, it’s the monster Muldrurd having a sale on newly crafted arms and armour. Another day, it’s a rock-eating contest.

• There’s a weekly wrestling match where these two big lugs – Thonn and Gronn – duke it out. They got the idea after I showed them an old episode of WWE Raw I had on DVD.

• Sometimes at night, we watch movies. Y’know, to show the monsters about life on Earth – and to show them that movies are the best.

There are restaurants, too. The monsters are still learning how to cook with Earth food – a few of their things came through the portal with them, but not much. The food is – well – interesting . . .

After we grab a bite, Quint yawns. ‘I’m exhausted from the day’s adventures. And I should get to work on repairing the radio.’

‘Yes!’ June exclaims. ‘No dillydallying. Straight to work, Quint.’

I won’t lie – I’m beat, too. And a little freaked from the King Wretch encounter. So we head home. Home is a tree house – and the tree house is mind-clobberingly cool . . .

The tree house used to be in my backyard. But – thanks to a monster called the Wormungulous – the whole thing was transplanted here, downtown, into the Joe’s Pizza parking lot . . .

So this is life right now.

And as we stroll back to the tree house, I’m thinking that life is good!

In fact, life is perfect !

Of course, in a post-Monster-Apocalypse world, life is never perfect for long . . .

chapter four

Just a few days later, I’m up early, playing with my Helidrone. I hang beef jerky off it, and Rover tries to pluck it in mid-air.

That’s when Quint calls me up to the tree house. Minutes later, we’re all gathered upstairs – me leaning against the doorway, trying to look Star-Lord cool.

Quint has a smile on his face that’s different from any Quint smile I’ve seen before. Closest comparison: when we got opening night, midnight tickets to see the second Avengers movie.

The look is a mixture of shock and excitement – like he won the dork lottery.

He flicks on the radio, and the little light turns green. It’s working!

‘I repaired it. But the issue,’ Quint says, ‘is the range of the antenna. I need parts to make the antenna fully functional. But I can and will. Soon, we will be able to listen to whoever is talking out there.’

June looks at Quint, down at the radio, and then back to Quint. And she erupts . . .

Quint is beaming. I see tears in June’s eyes. Big, fat, happy tears. ‘Jack, isn’t this wonderful?’

‘Um, yes! ’ I say. ‘Imagine the cool stuff we can do now! We can meet monsters! We can trade weapon designs! Exchange key information about Ŗeżżőcħ! We need to learn radio jargon – I want to know all that classic long-haul truck driver lingo.’

And suddenly, I’m imagining myself as a tough guy post-apocalyptic truck driver – possibly the most macho job ever . . .

‘Jack,’ June says, snapping me out of my end-of-the-world truck driver fantasies. ‘Jack, my parents. Our families. We can find out where they are. Remember what I told you, at the school?’

I think back to that moment on our middle-school roof, many months ago . . .

‘Of course! That too!’ I say. ‘I mean – that’s fantastic. Right? Obviously fantastic. Finding your parents. Good. Great.’

I look to Quint. He still has that odd smile on his face. ‘Quint, buddy. Who knows . . . You might get to see your family again.’

Quint exhales very slowly, then nods. The corner of his mouth is upturned in a cautious smile.

And again I feel that anxious, sweaty, pit-in-the-stomach feeling I had at the fire station, when we first discovered it was a radio making the noise.

My head starts spinning. Dirk and June are discussing the radio, and Quint is already sketching plans for how to boost the range. My friends’ voices swirl around me, and I feel sweat pouring down my forehead. I try to swallow, but my mouth is desert dry.

‘Guys, I just need a little fresh, um, what’s the word . . . Fresh cookies . . . ? Fresh breath? I mean . . . ah . . . fresh air, I think . . .’ My voice trails off as I step through the door, out onto the deck. It’s late autumn – or as I call it, ‘fancy fall’ – and the air is cool.

But my entire body is hot.

My heart is palpitating. I have a palpitating heart. And that’s a BAD KIND OF HEART!

Why? What’s happening?

Like – like, panic. Real panic. I’m freaking out. And I don’t know why!

My legs feel wobbly and useless. I need a cool drink. I’d kill for an ice-cold Capri Sun. I reach into our rainwater collector, scoop some water into my hands, and splash it on my face.

‘JACK!’ a monstrous voice suddenly bellows

I blink. Looking down, I see the monster Skaelka in the Town Square. Her shouting pulls me out of my panic. Skaelka was a vicious warrior in the monster dimension: scary savage and fiercely ferocious, from the stories we’ve heard.

‘Huh?’ I ask, my head still fuzzy. ‘Oh. No, no. We were just, um, celebrating. A few days ago, we – ah – we heard voices.’

Skaelka’s spinal-spikes flex – her sign of suspicion. ‘Voices! Inside your brain folds? Are you going insane? Should I put you down now by slicing off your head? I would be honoured to perform the dance of decapitation on you, Jack.’

‘No. No, no,’ I say. ‘No decapitation dancing desired. Thanks, though. I meant, we heard voices on a radio.’

‘Radio?’ Skaelka asks.

‘Um. It’s like a TV, but for sounds.’

Skaelka thinks this over for a moment. ‘Fine. Inform me if you require decapitation services. Or if you discover you are going insane,’ she says, and she clomps away, dragging her massive axe. I think, man, I’m really glad that barbaric looney-tune is on our side.

I take three deep breaths, then I step back into the tree house. My friends are already celebrating. June is cranking up the speakers on her ‘bomb sound system’ while Dirk shakes Sprite bottles and blasts soda around the tree house like we just won the World Series.

This radio changes everything.

Everyone joyous.

Everyone happy.

Everyone except for me.

And I think I know why.

If they get that radio really running – it won’t be long before they get in touch with other humans. And maybe even their families.

And what happens to me then?

I have no parents to go home to. I have no one waiting for me. Everything I have: it’s here.

I like our life here.

So I have only one choice.

I need to snatch that radio and SMASH IT AND DESTROY IT AND PREVENT MY FRIENDS FROM EVER LEAVING!

No, no.

Kidding. (Mostly.)

I need to show my friends that life here is so exceptionally, undeniably, crowd-pleasingly perfect that they’ll never want to leave! If I can show my friends endless fun, maybe they’ll just totally forget about the radio.

Maybe?

Hopefully?

There’s only one way to find out. By becoming . . .

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.