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The Thousand - Kevin Guilfoile [0]

By Root 578 0
ALSO BY KEVIN GUILFOILE

Cast of Shadows

For Mo

a cognizant original v5 release october 13 2010

Contents

Cover

Other Books by This Author

Title Page

Dedication

Things Can Get So Strange So Fast


Part 1 - Monad

Chapter 1

Chapter 2


Part 2 - Dyad

Chapter 3 - Tuesday, July 13

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6 - Wednesday, July 14

Chapter 7 - As Much of the Truth

Chapter 8

Chapter 9 - Thursday, July 15

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14 - Friday, July 16

Chapter 15

Chapter 16 - Monday, July 19

Chapter 17


Part 3 - Triad

Chapter 18 - Friday, July 23

Chapter 19 - Monday, July 26

Chapter 20

Chapter 21 - Tuesday, July 27

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24 - Wednesday, July 28

Chapter 25

Chapter 26 - Thursday, July 29

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29 - Friday, July 30

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33 - Saturday, July 31

Chapter 34


Part 4 - Tetrad

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38 - Sunday, August 1

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41 - Monday, August 2

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46 - Tuesday, August 3

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54 - The Rest of the Truth

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Chapter 71

Chapter 72

Chapter 73

Chapter 74

Chapter 75 - The Following Spring

Chapter 76


Acknowledgments

A Note About the Author

Copyright

We are the most dangerous species of life on the planet, and every other species, even the earth itself, has cause to fear our power to exterminate. But we are also the only species which, when it chooses to do so, will go to great effort to save what it might destroy.

—Wallace Stegner

THINGS CAN GET SO STRANGE SO FAST

SHE WAS SITTING at a kidney-shaped blackjack table, barely glancing at her cards. Her hair was mostly dark, but she wasn’t brunette. What would you call that? Maroon? Venetian? Indian Red? Firebrick? Wayne had never seen a crayon that color. And her eyes, great big almonds of eyes, even the casino’s expensive German cameras couldn’t tell him what color her eyes were.

“Here’s what you gotta do,” Peter said, tossing the remains of his newspaper between their desks. “You gotta bury yourself in mud.”

Wayne Jennings recognized this girl on his screen. She was a poker player. A pretty good one. So why is she playing blackjack in my casino? And for small stakes, too. The poker pros he knew preferred games where skill could tip the balance in their favor. Even a perfect blackjack player could only draw the odds close to even.

“You gotta bury yourself in mud,” Peter said again. He was maybe twenty pounds lighter than Wayne, a barely noticeable amount at their size. Like Wayne, he had played college football, lower on the depth chart and at a smaller school.

“What?”

“I was watching this show on PBS last night. They got these satellites that can detect your heat signature from space. So that means they could do it with a helicopter, too, no problem. When you sleep at night, no matter how thick the tree canopy or whatever, you gotta bury yourself in mud. Eliminate your heat signature.”

Peter had a long list of odd interests. One of them was M. C. Escher. He had prints of those crazy drawings all over his apartment. Another was UFOs. The most annoying was disappearing. He thought endlessly about the ways a normal person could erase any trace of himself. To run away and never be found. To scrub the earth of any evidence he still existed. As a result, his casual office conversation was littered with words like heat signature and epithelials and tree canopy. “Bury yourself in mud” was something like Peter Trembley’s thirty-seventh rule of disappearing into thin air. Exiting

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