Found (The Missing, Book 1)
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One night a plane appeared out of nowhere, the only passengers aboard: thirty-six babies. As soon as they were taken off the plane, it vanished. Now, thirteen years later, two of those children are receiving sinister messages, and they begin to investigate their past. Their quest to discover where they really came from leads them to a conspiracy that reaches from the far past to the distant future—and will take them hurtling through time. In this exciting new series, bestselling author Margaret Peterson Haddix brings an element of suspense that will keep readers on the edge of their seats.
“So help me, Katherine, this is all weird enough. If you think it’s funny to just make stuff up—to, to make fun of me—” “I’m not making anything up!” Katherine said, her eyes wide and innocent. “Honest! That’s what I was trying to tell you before, why I was so scared. Didn’t you wonder how the file ended up on Mr. Reardon’s desk in the first place?” Jonah hadn’t thought to wonder that. There hadn’t been time. “Wasn’t it one of the janitors—?” he began. “Only if the janitors there have
deleted those files? Do you think if maybe you go ask them—?” “My parents never look at my computer,” Chip said bitterly. “They don’t care. The only people who knew about those files were you and Katherine and me. And I didn’t tell anyone. Did you? Did Katherine?” “No,” Jonah said automatically. But he still had his eyes squeezed shut, and it was as if he had his memory displayed on the backs of his eyelids: he could see his own hand sweeping across a page, writing out, “All the information is
stairs and began leading the group through a hallway and out a door at the back of the school. Jonah let about a dozen kids file out ahead of him; he could see them stretched out across the yard in the sunshine, headed for the woods of the nature preserve. It was a cheerful scene, but Jonah got chills watching. It reminded him of something, something from when he was a little kid. . . . The Pied Piper, he thought. He and Katherine had had a book of fairy tales when they were little. She had
be comforting, actually. This was so much worse. There was just enough light filtering out from the cave to show that there were no trees anymore, no houses, no path, no rocks, no clouds, no sky. Nothing. It was like being deep in outer space, so far away from everything else that he couldn’t even see any stars. “We’re in a black hole!” someone screamed behind him. Automatically, instinctively, Jonah hit the keypad again: 2 1 ST. He hoped it was like the garage-door opener at home, where the
felt like he’d seen all the worst moments of human history by the time the killings finally ended. “I’m not allowed to watch R-rated movies!” a kid behind Jonah screamed. “Make it stop!” “Shh. It’s over now,” a girl’s voice comforted. “It’s in the past.” Jonah looked back—it was Emily again. On the screen now, all the death and destruction was replaced by a grim-faced man sitting in what appeared to be a TV studio. A caption at the bottom of the screen identified him as Curtis Rathbone, CEO,