Read This World We Live In (The Last Survivors, Book 3) for Free Online

the same thing," Mom said. "Oh, Miranda. You gave me the scare of my life."
    I stared at her, and we burst out laughing. It's funny: Horton slept through al the hysterics, but as soon as he heard us laughing (and I have to admit, our laughter was pretty hysterical), he got up and walked out of the room. Which made us laugh even more.
    "What about Mrs. Nesbitt?" Mom asked. "What were you talking about, Miranda?"
    I thought about Mom, how terrified she must have been that she might never see any of us again. I thought about al the people she's lost this past year.
    "Nothing," I said. "I saw a field with a lot of fresh graves. The Beasley boys were there. That's who I meant when I said the boys were there. But Mrs.
    Nesbitt probably isn't. I hope not anyway."
    Mom nodded. "There must be graves like that al over," she said. "Al over the world. Come on, Miranda. Change into something warmer, and I'l make you some soup."
    I did as she said. I even ate the soup. But I saw what I saw, and I know--with a cold, cruel certainty--
    that someday, somewhere, we'l be part of a mountain of bodies reaching up toward the sunless sky.
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    ***
    Chapter 4 May 12
    "Matt and Jon wil be home tomorrow," Mom said, as though saying it often enough would guarantee it would actual y happen. "And we're going to need a place to store the fish."
    "You real y think they'l have that many?" I asked.
    My fantasies, when I've al owed myself any, are shad poached in white wine, a stuffed baked potato, and sautéed green beans. With a salad beforehand and chocolate mousse for dessert. And a hot fudge sundae.
    "Let's hope so," Mom said. "I hate to think they're spending al their time in the cold not catching anything."
    "Except cold," I said, which Mom might have thought was clever a year or so ago.
    A year ago. May 18th is the anniversary of when the asteroid hit the moon. May 12th a year ago, I had no idea of how my life, how everyone's life, was about to change. A year ago my biggest problem ...
    Wel , a year ago I didn't have any problems. Maybe I thought I did but I didn't.
    "I think the cel ar would be best," Mom said. "It should be cool enough, at least until we salt the fish."
    I don't like cel ars. I don't like ours and I don't like Mrs.
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    Nesbitt's. Friends of mine had basements that were converted into family rooms or used for storage, but we have an old-fashioned dirt cel ar.
    Toadstools grew there in the summer, but Mom was afraid they were poisonous, so we never ate them.
    Mushrooms. I added them to my imaginary shad dinner. Feeling virtuous, I also added a chocolate peanut butter pie.
    Mom grabbed our biggest flashlight and opened the cel ar door. I fol owed her, to prove what a good daughter I am. After yesterday she stil needed some convincing.
    "Oh no," she said, shining the light onto the floor.
    Not that you could see the floor. The reflection of the light shone right back at us. The cel ar was completely flooded.
    "I guess we'l have to find someplace else for the shad," I said, unconvinced there'd be enough to worry about. "Maybe the garage?"
    "The shad's not the problem," Mom said, which could have fooled me, since the shad had been the problem thirty seconds earlier. "We've got to clear the cel ar out. We can't let it stay flooded."
    "I guess the sump pump stopped working," I said.
    "Al the snow melting and the rain and not enough electricity. Why can't the cel ar stay flooded? At least until Matt and Jon get home?"
    "Don't you think they've done enough for us?"
    Mom asked.
    Actual y I didn't. As far as I was concerned, they were having a wonderful adventure, away from home, away from Mom and the sunroom and mounds of bodies.
    "Mom," I said, trying to sound mature and reasonable and not like a whining crybaby. "That's an awful lot of water for us to mop."
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    "We'l use the pails you brought home," Mom said, because sure, it was fine for me to break into people's houses just as long as I stole pails and crossword puzzle books. She walked