The Pilgrims of Rayne Read Online Free Page B

bugged because these dados looked so much like real people?
    Nope.
    Courtney realized it first. “Look at them, they’re all the same,” she gasped.
    â€œYeah, I get that.”
    â€œNo!” She swallowed hard and looked at me, pained. “Look closer.” Her voice cracked as she said, “They all look like…Mark.”
    I snapped a look to the nearest dado. They were taller, their hair was short, and there wasn’t a zit in sight, but there was no mistake—these robots looked exactly like Mark Dimond. Every last one of them. We were seeing hundreds of clones of my best friend.
    â€œI want to cry,” Courtney whimpered.
    â€œIt’s okay,” I assured her, though I didn’t feel even close to okay. “It just means we’re on the right track.”
    â€œMark really did have something to do with this,” Courtney said, shaking her head.
    We were interrupted by a quick beep from a car horn. We both jumped and turned to see a small, silver car speed up and stop next to us. It was easy to see the driver since there was no roof.
    â€œPendragon!” Patrick yelled.
    Patrick was the Traveler from Third Earth. I’m guessing he was in his twenties. He was about my size with longish brown hair. He wore the same type of clothes as the last time I’d been there, jeans and a short-sleeved shirt. He looked more like a preppy from Second Earth than a teacher and librarian from the year 5010. Then again, I’m not really sure what a teacherand librarian from the year 5010 should look like. The thing I remembered most about Patrick was that he had a calm, confident way about him.
    Not anymore. That was another thing that had changed about Third Earth.
    Patrick drove up and slammed on the brakes, looking anything but calm. Frantic, scared, nervous…those were all better words to describe him. I’d only met him once, but he seemed to be a guy who was in perfect control. He was an intellectual. A guy who lived to study and teach. Now he looked like a crazed guy who lived to rant and drool. He leaped out of the car without opening the door, ran to me, and grabbed both my arms. His eyes were wild. His hair was tangled. He hadn’t shaved. He was a mess.
    â€œWhat happened?” he demanded. “What’s going on?”
    I looked to Courtney. She shrugged.
    â€œUh, not following you, Patrick,” I said.
    Patrick looked as if his head was about to explode. He looked at Courtney. “Who’s that?” He ran to her and grabbed her arms. “What territory are you the Traveler from? Do you know what happened?”
    Courtney froze. “N-No. I’m not a Traveler—I—”
    â€œNot a Traveler!” Patrick screamed, backing away from her, stepping closer to the edge of panic. “Pendragon, you can’t bring a non-Traveler here! What are you thinking? Things are all wrong!”
    I gently put my hand on his arm to try and calm him.
    â€œRelax, okay?” I said. “We’re here to help figure things out.”
    I felt him relax. A little. His eyes darted around as if unseen ghosts were closing in on us. He was coming back to Earth. Or Third Earth.
    â€œI’m going out of my mind, Pendragon,” he said, gulping air.
    Yeah, no kidding.
    â€œYou’re used to jumping around between territories and dealing with this insanity. I’m just a teacher. I never thought something like this could happen here.”
    I glanced around to see if there was a place we could talk that was more private. We were still outside the kiosk leading to the subway, and lots of people were passing by. Lots of Mark-looking robots, too. The creepy factor was still very high.
    â€œLet’s drive somewhere, okay?” I suggested.
    Patrick focused on my injured arm. “You’re hurt.”
    â€œQuigs,” I answered. “Down at the gate.”
    Patrick’s eyes suddenly went wide. “Quigs!” he