Burning for Revenge (The Tomorrow Series #5)
The journey to Stratton isn't an easy trip, especially when the enemy's headquarters lie somewhere along the way. And that's exactly where Ellie and her friends unwittingly find themselves. With only five of them against hundreds of armed soldiers, escape seems like a suicide mission. But Stratton is where Ellie's grandmother lives, so the journey must be made -- even though the odds aren't good.
Ellie must summon all of her courage and guerrilla instincts to survive the latest high-stakes installment of the action-packed Tomorrow series.
the house was getting old. I took one step every ten seconds, praying I wouldn’t wake a sleeping soldier, imagining him leaping out at me with his gun drawn. I peeped through window after window, but it was impossible to see anything. The darkness was so complete, the stillness so total. I had to assume the place was empty. All I could hope was that somewhere deep in the pantry would be a can of baked beans or a jar of marmalade. Grandma was a good cook, but the one thing she could never manage
accurate, smashed down. It lay on the kitchen floor. I felt strange when I saw it there. I knew why. It was because the house looked so solid from the front. So reliable, safe, secure. Just from looking at it, you felt you knew its life history, and the story of its owners. They’d be steady, responsible people. He’d work in an office and collect wine and drive a Magna and be into gardening in a big way; she’d be a doctor’s receptionist and make nice salads and listen to Paul Simon and attend all
he was standing in the gap or if he’d gone right or left. Or, in fact, gone straight through the trees and was now well on his way across the second paddock. I stopped for a minute, watching and waiting. When I couldn’t see any movement I moved closer, walking slowly and carefully, crouching to keep my profile as low as possible. I stopped every few metres, scanning the treeline with my ears. There was nothing, just the constant hissing of the leaves, and, back towards the road, the purring of a
have felt better about myself. But it was inside too. Just like I didn’t feel too gorgeous on the outside, I didn’t feel too gorgeous on the inside. That terrible party in New Zealand: the further I got away from it the worse it became. It should be the other way round. There was something else I was scared of, and that was how I could explain to Lee why I was following him. I don’t know why I always end up putting myself in the wrong – after all, I hadn’t done anything wrong – but I thought it
do. Until then we were stuck for suggestions. We came to the intersection, where a dirt road from the main road met the track we were on. The dirt road led to the tip. It was quite a big tip this one – well, not big by city standards – but it served both Wirrawee and Holloway. Even before the council amalgamations the shires shared the tip. We cockies didn’t use it much because, like all farmers, we had our own tip on the property. There was a gully in Nellie’s that we’d been dumping stuff into