Parched Read Online Free

bar and drop him into the leather sheath on my belt, then slip both arms into my sun robe. My backpack pulls down on my shoulders. “Thank you for a fascinating conversation. Let’s never do it again.”
    As I head for the door, I feel undone. Angry at Ling for tracking me down. Angry at Zhukov, at the Trust, at everyone. The barefoot kids part for me as I stride through them. I don’t need to join Kudzu to help them. I spin back to the small crowd and call,
“Acqua azul, à porte! Dalé!”
    They just stand there, staring at me in dumb disbelief. I gesture at the open doorway.
“Dalé! Dalé!”
    One darts inside. The rest keep staring at me, and I nod encouragingly.
“Acqua azul,”
I repeat, pointing at the bar. “Lake water.” Another kid follows the first. Then another. Then en masse, the kids rocket insidethe bar—a dam bursting. I watch them scamper past Ling to jump over the wooden counter, shouting with delight. My anger disappears, flipping into amusement. My mom always said my impulsiveness was my best and worst quality. Right now, it feels like the best. Satisfied, I spin around and head up the street.
    The sun turns everything into hot metal, even the shadows. After half a minute, I hear Ling call after me, mocking, “What are you going to do, Tess? Keep running?” She’s chugging behind me on one of the bulky solar floaters most Badlanders ride. The castoffs from Eden hover a few inches off the ground. This one has faded red-and-yellow flames painted on a silver body that has definitely seen better days. “How’s that working out?”
    â€œPerfectly,” I snap. But the truth is, I’m not even sure how I’ll get a ride out of town. I’m about to celebrate a year of aimless backpacking. I’ve spent everything I had on pickup rides, tasteless food, and thin bedrolls in airless rooms. I don’t even have a floater. No possessions, no plan.
    Maybe this whole Kudzu thing is an option. Head back to Eden, where life is lush and sheltered and easy. Take a shower for the first time in a year.
    Meiyou
—no. I squash the idea before it can bloom.
    Ling’s voice is urgent. “Tess! You
know
this is important. Come with me!”
    I spin around to address her directly. “Ping.”
    She scowls. “It’s
Ling
.”
    â€œYou’re looking out for the Badlands. That’s great. But you know what I’m looking out for?”
    She squints at me. “What?”
    â€œMyself.”
    â€œScucha!”
A huge, angry voice cracks up the street. A swarthy, shirtless man with a long ponytail made of real horsehair fights off the riot of kids looting his bar.
    Zhukov. The kids are scattering, but it’s too late. Dozens already have armfuls of expensive
acqua azul
, because I let them steal it.
    He points at me, yelling at someone to bring him the
fuega
. Not someone—some
thing
. Substitutes. The two old Divers Zhukov had repurposed as his own personal security emerge from the shadows, motors sputtering into action.
    I swear loudly.
    Divers could haul me back to Zhukov in a heartbeat.
    â€œGet on,” Ling urges.
    â€œNo.” The Divers begin gunning up the empty street toward me, their three large wheels zooming easily over the unpaved roads. I can see their weird, open mouths from here, set in a permanent O to suck out floodwater that no longer exists. I start to run but the Divers are gaining ground.
    â€œTess, get on!”
    I hesitate for a nanosecond before swinging my leg over the floater, leaping in front of Ling and shoving her down the seat. “I’m driving.”
    â€œHey!” She barely has time to grab on to my backpack before I shoot us forward.
    â€œI know the streets better!” I yell over the roar of the engine.
    We race jerkily up the narrow, twisting street, weaving around men lugging canvas bags of spare sub parts and barefoot kids playing chase.