Free, I think. They're free.
(is this why she joined them?)
I feel so-
So relieved.
I pick up the pace as I near the opening, my hands gripping my rifle but I have a feeling I ain't gonna need it.
(ah, Viola, I knew I could count-)
Then I reach the opening and stop.
Everything stops.
My stomach falls right thru my feet.
"They're all gone?" Davy says, coming up beside me.
Then he see what I see.
"What the-?" Davy says.
The Spackle ain't all gone.
They're still here.
Every single one.
All 1150 of them.
Dead.

Autore: Patrick Ness

<i>Free</i>, I think. <i>They're free</i>.<br />(is this why she joined them?)<br />I feel so-<br />So <i>relieved</i>.<br />I pick up the pace as I near the opening, my hands gripping my rifle but I have a feeling I ain't gonna need it.<br />(ah, Viola, I knew I could count-)<br />Then I reach the opening and stop.<br />Everything stops.<br />My stomach falls right thru my feet.<br />"They're all gone?" Davy says, coming up beside me.<br />Then he see what I see.<br />"What the-?" Davy says.<br />The Spackle ain't all gone.<br />They're still here.<br />Every single one.<br />All 1150 of them.<br />Dead. - Patrick Ness


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