Survivor in Death by J.D. Robb Read Online (FREE)
Read Survivor in Death (In Death, #25) by J.D. Robb full novel online free here.
So shalt thou feed on Death, that feeds on men,
And Death once dead, there’s no more dying then.
Happy families are all alike; every unhappy Family is unhappy in its own way.
LEO NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOI
A LATE-NIGHT URGE FOR AN ORANGE FIZZY SAVED NIXIE’S life. When she woke, she could see by the luminous dial of the jelly-roll wrist unit she was never without that it was after two in the morning.
She wasn’t allowed to snack between meals, except for items on he mother’s approved list. And two in the morning was way between.
But she was dying for an Orange Fizzy.
She rolled over and whispered to her best friend in the entire galaxy Linnie Dyson. They were having a school-night sleepover because Linnie’s mom and dad were celebrating their anniversary in some fancy hotel.
So they could have sex. Mom and Mrs. Dyson said it was so the could have a fancy dinner and go dancing and crap-o, but it was for sex. Jee-zus, she and Linnie were nine, not two. They knew what was what-o.
Besides, like they gave a woo. The whole deal meant Mom–the Rule Monster–bent the rules about school nights. Even if they’d had to turn the lights out at nine-thirty–were they two?–she and Linnie had the most magolicious time.
And school was still hours away, and she was thirsty. So she poked Linnie and whispered again.
“Nuh. Not morning. Still dark.”
“It is morning. It’s two in the morning.” That’s why it was so frosty. “I want an Orange Fizzy. Let’s go down and get one. We can split it.”
Linnie only made grunting, mumbling noises, rolled away, and tugged the covers nearly over her head.
“Well, I’m going,” Nixie said in the same hissy whisper.
It wasn’t as much fun on her own, but she’d never get back to sleep now, thinking of the Fizzy. She had to go all the way down to the kitchen because her mother wouldn’t allow her to have an AutoChef in her room. Might as well be in prison, Nixie thought, as she scooted out of bed. Might as well be in prison in 1950 or something instead of her own house in 2059.
Mom had even put child codes on all the household AutoChefs so the only thing Nixie or her brother, Coyle, could program was health sludge.
Might as well eat mud.
Her father said, “Rules is rules.” He liked to say that a lot. But sometimes he’d wink at her or Coyle when their mother was out and order up some ice cream or potato crispies.
Nixie sort of thought her mom knew and pretended she didn’t.
She tiptoed out of her room, a pretty little girl, just going gangly, with a wavy mass of platinum blonde hair. Her eyes, a pale, pale blue, were already adjusted to the dark.