Genesis, p.1
Genesis, page 1
PRAISE FOR
NEMESIS
A NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER
“There are many overworked adjectives for action books: page-turner, fast-paced, intense. For this book, multiply all of them. Reichs truly keeps readers guessing throughout, with twists on nearly every page.”
—BOOKLIST, starred review
“Hooked readers will be tapping their fingers waiting for the sequel.”
—KIRKUS REVIEWS, starred review
“Min is a self-assured female protagonist, and Noah is a refreshingly complex young man . . . This fast-paced exploration of the teen condition is recommended for lovers of science fiction, video games, and New Age dystopia.”
—SCHOOL LIBRARY JOURNAL
“[I]t’s [Min’s] story that will . . . draw readers back to see where the cliffhanger ending leads.”
—THE BULLETIN OF THE CENTER FOR CHILDREN’S BOOKS
“Nemesis will appeal to teens who enjoy a fast-paced, action-filled plot.”
—VOYA
“Reichs pulls everything together at the book’s end, and a plot twist few will see coming should leave readers eagerly awaiting the second book.”
—PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
“Hard to put down . . . It’s mysterious and dark, with plot twists galore. So strap yourself in and be prepared for a bumpy ride.”
—ROMANTIC TIMES
“Brendan Reichs takes you on a twisty thrill-ride that will keep you guessing with characters you’ll want to stay with.”
—BUSTLE
“Part Orphan Black part Lord of the Flies.”
—TOR.COM
“This tautly written YA suspense is unstoppable, luring you in with its every turn down a dark path you don’t foresee.”
—USA TODAY’S HAPPY EVER AFTER
“Addictive as a puzzle, moving with breakneck speed, Nemesis had me
guessing until the very end. Try to predict what Nemesis is. I dare you.”
—VICTORIA AVEYARD, #1 New York Times bestselling author of RED QUEEN
“Reichs builds plots like the Swiss build watches. Nemesis is a fascinating, twisty page-turner that will keep surprising you until its final page. I loved it.”
—RANSOM RIGGS, #1 New York Times bestselling author of MISS PEREGRINE’S HOME FOR PECULIAR CHILDREN
“My favorite thriller since The Maze Runner—dark, fast-paced, and intense.”
—MELISSA DE LA CRUZ, #1 New York Times bestselling author of THE ISLE OF THE LOST
“Reichs keeps you at the edge of your seat without compromising depth and heart. Prepare to think about these characters long after you’ve closed the book.”
—ALLY CONDIE, #1 New York Times bestselling author of MATCHED
“Born from the imagination of an apocalyptic mastermind, Nemesis is an addictive read filled with mystery, conspiracy, and terrifying possibilities. I can’t wait for the sequel!”
—KAMI GARCIA, #1 New York Times bestselling author of THE LOVELY RECKLESS
“My favorite kind of thriller: smart and action-packed, with twists and turns galore. You won’t be able to put this book down.”
—RENÉE AHDIEH, #1 New York Times bestselling author of THE WRATH AND THE DAWN
“Nemesis disarms every expectation and lures you down a dark, gripping road. You think you know what’s coming . . . You don’t.”
—ALEXANDRA BRACKEN, #1 New York Times bestselling author of THE DARKEST MINDS
“An utterly thrilling read with a deviously clever twist I never saw coming!”
—CARRIE RYAN, New York Times bestselling author of THE FOREST OF HANDS AND TEETH
“So scary it’s heart-stopping—and so good it’s scary.”
—MARGARET STOHL, #1 New York Times bestselling author of BLACK WIDOW: FOREVER RED
“A twisted web of conspiracy and apocalyptic mayhem that kept me reading all night.”
—JAY KRISTOFF, New York Times bestselling co-author of ILLUMINAE and author of NEVERNIGHT
ALSO BY BRENDAN REICHS
PROJECT NEMESIS
Nemesis
Genesis
THE VIRALS SERIES
Virals
Seizure
Code
Exposure
Terminal
Trace Evidence
G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS
an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC
375 Hudson Street
New York, NY 10014
Copyright © 2018 by Brendan Reichs.
Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.
G. P. Putnam’s Sons is a registered trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Reichs, Brendan, author.
Title: Genesis / Brendan Reichs.
Description: New York, NY : G. P. Putnam’s Sons, [2018]
Summary: “Min, Noah, and the sophomores of Fire Lake must fight to survive in the second phase of Project Nemesis”—Provided by publisher.
Identifiers: LCCN 2017028972 (print) | LCCN 2017040531 (ebook) | ISBN 9780399544989 (ebook) | ISBN 9780399544965 (hardcover)
Subjects: | CYAC: Survival—Fiction. | Conspiracies—Fiction. | Science fiction.
Classification: LCC PZ7.R264467 (ebook) | LCC PZ7.R264467 Gen 2018 (print) | DDC [Fic]—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017028972
Ebook ISBN 9780399544989
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Jacket design by Dana Li
Version_1
For Henry and Alice, my true north
CONTENTS
PRAISE FOR NEMESIS
ALSO BY BRENDAN REICHS
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT
DEDICATION
PART ONE: CHAOS1: NOAH
2: MIN
3: MIN
4: NOAH
5: MIN
6: MIN
7: NOAH
8: MIN
9: NOAH
10: MIN
11: NOAH
12: MIN
PART TWO: AGGREGATION13: NOAH
14: MIN
15: NOAH
16: MIN
17: MIN
18: NOAH
19: MIN
20: NOAH
PART THREE: ANNIHILATION21: MIN
22: NOAH
23: MIN
24: NOAH
25: MIN
26: NOAH
27: MIN
28: NOAH
29: MIN
30: NOAH
31: MIN
32: NOAH
PART FOUR: EVOLUTION33: MIN
34: NOAH
35: MIN
36: NOAH
37: MIN
38: NOAH
39: MIN
40: NOAH
41: MIN
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ENGAGED
PART ONE
CHAOS
1
NOAH
We went there to kill them all.
Fire and blood.
Blood and fire.
I stalked through the midnight-dark woods, making as little noise as possible.
Kyle was beside me. Akio a step behind. We stole through the bare trunks like smoke, stepping lightly in our snowshoes, a pack of hungry wolves scenting prey. The target was still a football field away and a hundred feet downslope, but experience had taught me to be wary.
I’d been killed twice that week already, ambushed both times. Had no interest in another death. Resetting in new places had been disorienting. Unnerving. The rules had changed, and I didn’t know all the new ones yet. But I’d learn.
Reaching the tree line, I dropped to a knee and freed my boots from the snowshoes. An icy wind smacked me in the face, tingling my cheeks and scraping my nose like sandpaper. I peered down the plunging mountainside before me, a barren stretch of slope barely dusted with white despite deep drifts piled up on both sides.
A full moon hung low and huge in the sky, glowing like a candle. Squinting, I could see our objective: a log cabin at the bottom of the run—simple, rough-hewn, topped by a cedar-chip roof and a stone chimney. Soft yellow lamplight spilled from two blocky windows. Inhaling, I caught f
I shook my head, nearly snorted in disbelief.
These classmates were cocky. They’d planted a double line of tiki torches that stabbed up the center of the slope. Angry orange flames danced in the heavy gusts, reflecting off the frozen landscape, creating pools of shadow and light among the encroaching trees.
The kids inside probably thought the torches made them safer. They didn’t.
Echoes of their laughter had risen all the way to our base at the mountaintop chalet. I was living in the same suite the black-suited man had once occupied, back in the real world, before it died. Stepping out onto the ice-covered patio, I’d heard voices. Tasted wood smoke. Spotted the flickering pinpricks a mile away.
I clicked my tongue at the memory. This cabin was firmly outside of downtown limits. An expansion into my territory. They were testing me. Mistake.
I glanced right, across twenty yards of open ground to a thicket on the opposite side of the slope, searching for the second prong of my strike force. This empty stretch would’ve made an excellent moguls trail. My father had earmarked it for development—a project that would never happen, in a future that would never be.
Did time mean anything now? Did it exist inside the Program?
It’d been three weeks since the Guardian revealed the true nature of our existence. How the planet had been destroyed by a series of cataclysms, our physical bodies burned to crisps. That the sixty-four members of Fire Lake’s sophomore class were all that remained of humanity, existing as digital lines of code inside a supercomputer buried deep underground.
Some couldn’t accept it. Couldn’t wrap their heads around the idea of being nothing more than ones and zeros. They walked around like zombies, or hid. A few even defied the Program, questioning its purpose. Refusing the Guardian’s instructions, as if things were somehow up for debate.
Idiots. The Program was purpose. The last hope of our species. It was the greatest gift anyone had ever received. To rebel against it was madness. Heresy. The smartest minds on Earth had crafted a single way forward for a few lucky souls. Who were we to question its dictates?
I’d been murdered over and over back in the real world, never knowing why, wracked by the pain and humiliation of thinking I was crazy. But I’d had it all wrong.
I was being trained. Prepared. I’d been chosen to lead the human race. I was special, to a nearly paralyzing degree. The hell I’d give the middle finger to the defining achievement of all human existence. The stakes were way too high.
During the chaos at Town Hall, I’d been momentarily conflicted. The Guardian had disappeared back inside without further instructions. But I’d rallied quickly, focusing on what we’d been told. We had to sort ourselves. There’d be winners and losers. I needed to dominate the situation. And the first step was to carve out my own space.
So I did. Shooting Ethan had changed everything, for everyone.
Shooting Ethan? You mean shooting Min.
I flinched. Felt a heaviness in the pit of my stomach, even as I gritted my teeth.
She’d made her choice. Had given me no choice.
Min had rejected the Guardian, ignoring what we’d been prepared for. Everything we’d suffered through, our whole lives, as beta patients for Project Nemesis. She’d refused to see the truth—that the Program was our salvation. We had to follow its plan.
I’d been so angry. So frustrated and disappointed. I’d shot Min to make a point. To her and everyone else. This was our world now. Min would reset and be perfectly fine. The old rules didn’t apply. The Guardian’s rules were all that mattered.
It’s not like I’d enjoyed it.
After the massacre, everyone had scattered. I’d retreated to my father’s ski resort atop the northeastern slopes, the most defensible spot in the valley. To my surprise, several classmates had followed. People who understood the truth as I did.
The Program was everything. It required conflict. We would provide it.
But you don’t even know why. You’re flying blind.
I shook my head sharply to clear it. Try as I might, I hadn’t been able to stamp out a nagging voice that was determined to weaken me. My failures in life—the sad puddles of selfrecrimination and doubt that had hounded me for years—were trying to sabotage me here, but I rejected them. I was strong now. I’d stay strong. Spineless Noah Livingston was dead.
Movement across the gap. I spotted Zach, skinny and moon-faced, standing upright and exposed, and waving like a human archery target. Behind him Morgan and Leah were motioning for him to get down, but he ignored them, even shaking off Morgan’s outstretched hand.
Smart girls. I should’ve put one of them in charge instead of Zach. Too late now.
Not all of my followers were brilliant. Zach had even killed himself once, just to see what it was like. Moron. Suicide had to be against the Program, and was therefore unthinkable. I was fully committed to winning this phase, whatever that meant. And right then, it meant giving the people down in that cabin a really bad night.
I lifted a single fist overhead, then made a chopping motion and pointed at our target. Zach straightened, scratching his cheek, but Leah flashed the okay sign. Her father was a National Guardsman, and her family owned the quarry at the western edge of the valley, which was why I’d chosen her for this mission. She had experience with flammables. Lifting two plastic canisters, Leah shoved one into Zach’s stomach and began picking her way downslope. Zach stomped after her, with Morgan bringing up the rear.
“Let’s go,” I said to Akio and Kyle, keeping my voice firm. I didn’t relish what was coming, but I wasn’t agonizing over it. And I could never show weakness in front of the others. They had to believe I was the scariest thing on the mountain. Or else why would they follow me? Who’d follow the Noah Livingston from life, a guy who never stood up for anything?
Min would.
Heat rose to my cheeks. Min shamed me, brought out all of my failings. All of the things I couldn’t afford to be in this world. Would my flaws always haunt me, even here?
This was a mission.
Feelings didn’t matter.
Not here, not in this virtual proving ground we inhabited.
I was doing what I was supposed to do.
Akio’s soft features tightened as he handed a fuel canister to Kyle. He didn’t want to do this, but could be counted on to follow orders. Fine by me. His conscience was irrelevant so long as he did his part. Akio had been the first to join me. If I trusted anyone, it was him.
Kyle smiled darkly. He was looking forward to the carnage, and I didn’t care about that, either.
Snowshoes hidden, we crept down the mountain, sticking to the trees as we mirrored our teammates on the opposite side. Zach quickly became a disaster—stumbling through the frozen underbrush, snapping branches and grunting in annoyance. Morgan hissed at him, but he ignored her warning, stepping out onto the slope to avoid a patch of pricker bushes.
I shook my head. I shouldn’t have included him, but I’d asked for volunteers and he’d spoken up first.
The wind sighed down to nothing. The night was as still as death, and nearly as cold. No birds. No chirping insects. Every sloppy footfall echoed down the icy hillside between the bordering woods, setting my teeth on edge. Zach drew level with the first pair of torches, casting a long black shadow that arrowed sharply back up the mountain.
A clicking sound.
Leah and Morgan froze.
Zach stomped a few more steps, then stopped abruptly, glancing back over his shoulder.
Shots rang out. One. Two. A half dozen.
Zach dropped like a puppet with its strings cut, a dark stain spreading on the icy ground beneath him.
Leah dove behind a round-bellied oak and rolled, her thick braid whipping like a bicycle spoke. Morgan’s body jerked as more cracks boomed up the mountainside. Then she slumped onto her butt, blubbering, glossy liquid spilling from her mouth.
Out on the slope, Zach’s body shimmered and disappeared.
Leah was up and running, ignoring her fuel canister and Morgan’s grasping hand as she bolted deeper into the forest. Three figures in dark ski jackets lurched from the shadows. After a cursory glance at Morgan, they tore after Leah, fanning out in an attempt to encircle her. Behind them, Morgan toppled over and stopped moving. Seconds later she vanished.
