1269_UgliesFreeBook

170 Scott Westerfeld
By the time noon approached the tributary was gradually
growing smaller. Sooner or later, she would reach its
source, a mountain spring or melting snowdrift, and then
she’d have to walk. Tired after the long night, she decided
to make camp.
Her eyes scanned the sky, wondering if any more of the
Rusty flying machines were around. The idea of another
one crashing into her in her sleep terrified her. Who knew
what the people inside the thing wanted? If she hadn’t been
hidden in the water the night before, what would they have
done with her?
One thing was certain: The shiny solar cells of the
hoverboard would be obvious from the air. Tally checked
the charge; more than half remained thanks to her slow
speed and the bright sun now overhead. She unfolded
the hoverboard, but only halfway, and hid it among the
tallest flowers she could find. Then she hiked to the top
of a nearby hill. From up there Tally could keep her eye
on the hoverboard, and hear and see anything approaching
from the air. She decided to repack her knapsack
before she went to sleep, so she could bolt at a moment’s
notice.
It was the best she could do.
After a mildly revolting packet of SpagBol, Tally curled
up in a spot where the white flowers were tall enough to
hide her. The breeze stirred their long stalks, and shadows
danced on her closed eyelids.