Read Immurement: The Undergrounders Series Book One (A Young Adult Science Fiction Dystopian Novel) for Free Online Page A

… let you go without me,” he gasps.
    I pull out my canteen and hold it to his lips. “Here, take a drink.”
    He takes an obligatory sip, before slumping backward.
    I unwind my bandana from around my neck, pour some water on it, and press it to his forehead.
    “I can’t go back now,” he says, fumbling with his rifle. His eyes meet mine, and I realize what he’s saying. The clan will shun him for this single act of disobedience. He’s chosen me over them. It’s a sacrifice that’s become more dangerous than he realizes.
    “We need to get going,” Mason says, throwing Jakob a disgruntled look. “You can brief him on the way if he insists on tagging along.”
    “He’s already made his decision,” I say. “He’s coming with us.”
     
    The sun blazes like an angry eye above the muscled peaks of the mountains. We march in silence for the most part, scouring the horizon for any hint of threat, until a deep rumbling fills our ears. For the next half a mile it grows louder until there’s no mistaking the boom of water crashing from a great height.
    “Elk Creek Rapids,” Big Ed shouts over his shoulder.
    I make my way over to the edge of the trail and stretch out my neck to take a look. Jakob comes up behind me and hooks a protective arm around my waist. I stiffen, until I remember that his parents are a long way from here. We’re both on our own now.
    Fifty feet below us, white foam breaks like liquid crystal over the top of half-submerged granite boulders in the churning water.
    I retreat a few feet, shaken by the brute power of the water. Big Ed waves us forward and points at a log cabin up ahead. “That’s the old Brody place. Follow me. We’ll fan out around the building, make sure the Rogues aren’t holed up inside before we cross the river.”
    The hairs on the back of my neck prickle as I edge forward and scan the perimeter. Jakob takes off to the left of the building and I veer right. A stubby-legged toad shuffle-jumps up to me and studies me with lidded, glassy eyes. I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t listened to so many of Big Ed’s ghost stories about bear grease and moonshine and buckets of fingers cut off at the knuckles. This old cabin has the feel of a place that’s swarming with ghosts.
    I take a couple of tentative steps closer to the boarded-up cabin.
    “Behind you,” a voice whispers in my ear.
    I swing my rifle around, ready to unload a round.
    “Easy! It’s me, Mason!”
    “Idiot!” I hiss back angrily.
    Mason clamps a giant paw over my mouth. He gestures in the direction of the shack.
    I stay close behind him as we edge our way around the log exterior to the front porch. He scrapes up against the siding and I grope at a sheet of cobweb that cascades down behind him. I spit a clump of sticky web silk off my tongue, hoping there isn’t an irate black widow crawling over me. I’d sooner skin a rabbit than handle anything with more than four legs.
    Mason jerks his thumb forward several times, then reaches for the elk-antler door handle, and raises the iron latch above it. He pushes against the wooden door with his hip. It gives easily—too easily for a log door swollen shut from disuse.
    I follow him in, gun cocked and ready. Dust itches the lining of my nostrils. For an agonizing moment, I wrestle with a sneeze, before I manage to contain it.
    Mason stands rooted in place, his broad back blocking my immediate view of the cabin’s interior. I follow the thin beam of his flashlight as he arcs it around, tracing the warped trusses above. I step to the side and flinch when something taps me on the back. When I swing around to take a look, a boot socks me in the mouth. I shriek and stagger backward.
    I grip my gun and stare up in horror at a shadow dangling from the rafters. My knees almost buckle beneath me. It’s Reid! A handwritten sign strung from his neck reads: “Sweeper Snitch.”
    Jakob and Big Ed come rushing through the door and freeze at the sight of Reid’s body