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Hugh Howey

Dust

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WOOL introduced the world of the silo. SHIFT told the story of its creation. DUST will describe its downfall.

In a time when secrets and lies were the foundations of life, someone has discovered the truth. And they are going to tell.

Jules knows what her predecessors created. She knows they are the reason life has to be lived in this way.

And she won’t stand for it.

But Jules no longer has supporters. And there is far more to fear than the toxic world beyond her walls.

A poison is growing from within Silo 18.

One that cannot be stopped.

Unless Silo 1 step in.
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402 printed pages
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Quotes

  • Юля Борисоваhas quoted9 months ago
    hesitated, ran his hands across her words, remembering what he’d done. He had killed the one person trying to help him, the one person who loved him. The one person reaching out to these silos to help. All because of his own guilt and self-loathing for loving her back. “Here’s a rundown of the events,” he said, forgetting what he was looking for.
    “Get to the point,” Darcy said. “What’s this all about? My shift is up in two hours, and it’ll be daylight soon. I’ll need both of you under lock and key before then.”
    “I’m getting there.” Donald wiped his eyes and composed himself, waved his hand at a corner of the table. “All of these silos went dark a long time ago. A dozen or so of them. It started with 40. They must’ve had some kind of silent revolution. A bloodless one, because we never got any reports. They never acted strange. A lot like what’s going on in eighteen right now—”
    “Was,” Charlotte said. “I heard from them. They’ve been shut down.”
    Donald nodded. “Thurman told me. I meant to say ‘was’. Thurman also hinted that they were originally going to build fewer silos but kept adding more for redundancy. There are a few reports I found that suggested this as well. You know what I think? I think they added too many. They couldn’t monitor them all closely enough. It’s like having a camera on every street corner, but you don’t have enough people watching the feeds. And so this one slipped under the rails.”
    “What do you mean when you say these silos went dark?” Darcy asked. He sidled closer to the table and studied the layout under the glass.
    “All the camera feeds went out at the same time. They wouldn’t answer our calls. The Order mandated that we shut them down in case they’d gone rogue, so we gassed the place.
  • Юля Борисоваhas quoted9 months ago
    Donald lifted the lid on one of the wooden crates his sister had pried open. He winced in pain, and Charlotte rushed to help him. He grabbed a can of water and popped the lid, took a long swig while Charlotte pulled out two more cans. Darcy switched his gun to his other hand to accept a can, and Donald felt the presence of crate after crate of guns around him. He was sick of the things. Somehow, the fear of the one in Darcy’s hand was gone. The pain in his chest was a different sort of bullet wound. A quick death would be a blessing.
    “We aren’t the first people to try and help a silo,” Donald said. “That’s what Thurman told me. And a lot more makes sense now. C’mon.” He led them off that aisle and down another. A light flickered overhead. It would die soon. Donald wondered if anyone would bother to replace it. He found the plastic crate he was looking for hidden among a sea of others, tried to pull it down, and felt a cry from his ribs. He sucked it up and hauled it anyway, his sister helping with one hand, and together they carried it to the conference room. Darcy followed.
    “Anna’s work,” he grunted, hefting the container onto the conference table while Darcy hit the lights. There was a schematic of the silos beneath a thick sheet of glass, and the glass was marked with old wax notes, scratched into illegibility by elbows and folders and glasses of whisky. All of his other notes were gone, but that was okay. He needed to look for something old, something from the past, from his previous shift. He pulled out several folders and flopped them onto the table. Charlotte began looking through them. Darcy remained by the door and glanced occasionally at the floor in the hall, which remained splattered with dried blood.
    “There was a silo shut down a while back for broadcasting on a general channel. Not on my shift.” He pointed to Silo 10 on the table, which bore the remnants of a red X. “A burst of conscience broadcast on a handful of channels, and then it was shut down. But it was Silo 40 that kept Anna busy for the better part of a year.” He found the folder he was looking for, flipped it open. Seeing her handwriting blurred his vision.
  • Юля Борисоваhas quoted9 months ago
    Donald peered past her to the man in the doorway. The guard gazed up and down the hallway, was more concerned about someone coming than about him or his sister escaping. The ache in Donald’s ribs lessened as he realized what was going on.
    “We’re leaving?” he asked.
    His sister nodded and helped him stand. Donald followed her into the hall.
    So many questions, but silence was paramount. Now wasn’t the time. The security officer closed the door and locked it. Charlotte was already heading toward the lifts. Donald limped after her, barefoot, his left leg singing with every step. They were on the admin level. He passed the accounting offices where spares and supplies were managed; Records, where the major happenings of every silo were tallied and entered into the servers; Population Control, where so many of his reports had once originated. All the offices quiet at what must’ve been an early-morning hour.
    The security station was unmanned. Beyond it, a lift was waiting for them, persistently buzzing in a hold state. Donald noted a strong odor of cleaning agent in the lift. Charlotte slammed the hold button back in, scanned her ID, and pressed the armory level. The guard slid through the closing doors sideways, and Donald noticed the gun in his hand. It wasn’t for fear of being discovered by others that he was carrying that gun, Donald realized. They weren’t quite free. The young man stood on the other side of the lift and watched him and his sister warily.
    “I know you,” Donald said. “You work the late shift.”
    “Darcy,” the guard said. He didn’t offer his hand. Donald thought of the empty security station and realized this man should’ve been there.
    “Darcy, right. What’s going on?” He turned to his sister. A gauze wrapping could be seen peeking out from her short-sleeved undershirt. “Are you okay?”
    “I’m fine.” She watched the floors light up and slide by with obvious trepidation. “We flew another drone.” She turned to Donald, her eyes on fire. “It made it through.”
    “You saw it?” His wounds were forgotten; the man standing in the lift with the gun was forgotten. It had been so long since that first flight gave him a brief glimpse of blue skies that he had grown to doubt it, had come to think it had never happened at all. The other flights had failed, had never reached as far. The elevator slowed as it approached the storehouse.
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