webnovel

Clone Chronicles

I’m an international, multiple award-winning author with a passion for the voices in my head. As a singer, songwriter, independent filmmaker and improv teacher and performer, my life has always been about creating and sharing what I create with others. Now that my dream to write for a living is a reality, with over a hundred titles in happy publication and no end in sight, I live in beautiful Prince Edward Island, Canada, with my giant cats, pug overlord and overlady and my Gypsy Vanner gelding, Fynn. CLONE THREE: BOOK ONE The fate of the world lies in the hands of a clone who can't remember anything... "Clone Three." The old man's voice is a softly echoing sound, volume and pitch altering as he speaks, as if over a great distance. "Pay attention, dear. Final instructions." Is he talking to me? He must be. His holographic eyes seem to be meeting mine, he looks at me with great expectation. And yet as I lie here and begin to regain sensation and control, I realize I not only have no idea where I am, what I'm doing here. I haven't a clue who I am. Clone Three wakes in a decaying city she is sure doesn't match the one she came from. If only she could remember. She has a purpose at least--she must find her fellow clones and the statue whose image is embedded in her mind. But she is lost, surrounded by a dead and crumbling metropolis, fought over by those who have been altered by the illness that has ravaged humankind, turning survivors into strange and terrible new forms. She must risk everything, including the safety of those who try to help her, in order to fulfill her task. But is she this crumbling world's salvation... or the source of its downfall? Don't miss the exciting sequels! Clone Two and Clone One are now available!

Patti Larsen · Sci-fi
Not enough ratings
125 Chs

Chapter 105: Cade

Duet sits chained beside me, piled with so much metal even she can't break free, though I know she's trying, her ichor leaking out to attack the metal links. But they resist her blood and I know now Solo has prepared this group for us, likely has packs of kids similar to this one all around the city ready to grab us or pretend friendship in order to bring us in.

Which makes Socrates's suggestion I'm from here all the more real. Though when I think of the young genius my whole body rejects the thought he may even now be gone.

"Out." Duet growls the word while Poppy rises, goes to the door of the little cage. It's mostly wood, with only a few steel bars. The ceiling is low, but it's wide and long, some kind of shipping container I can only guess. I know I can break us out, but what then?

What then?