1269_UgliesFreeBook

314 Scott Westerfeld
It was lucky she, like most young Smokies, slept with her
belly sensor on.
Already, the whine of hovercars taking off came from
behind.
Tally knew only two ways out of the Smoke by hoverboard.
Instinctively, she headed for the railroad tracks where
she worked every day. The valley dropped behind her, and
she managed to make the tight turn onto the white-water
stream without falling off. With no knapsack and her heavy
crash bracelets missing, Tally felt practically naked.
Croy’s board wasn’t as fast as hers, and it didn’t know
her style. Riding it was like breaking in new shoes—while
running for your life.
Over the water, spray struck her face, hands, and feet.
Tally knelt, grasping the edge of the board with wet hands,
flying as low as she dared. Down here, the spray might
make it even harder to ride, but the barrier of the trees kept
her invisible. She dared a glance backward. No hovercars
had appeared yet.
As she shot down the winding stream, swerving through
the familiar hard turns, Tally thought of all the times she and
David and Shay had raced each other to the work site. She
wondered where David was. Back in camp, bound and ready
to be taken to a city he’d never seen before? Would he have
his face filed down and replaced by a pretty mask, his brain
turned into whatever mush the authorities decided would be
acceptable for a former renegade raised in the wild?