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Unwanted

Unwanted 2

by Amanda Holohan
Paperback
Publication Date: 28/01/2015
4/5 Rating 2 Reviews

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All her life, Bea has wanted nothing more than to become a sniper on the wall and earn the coveted ink of a Dread warrior - a mark of distinction among her people.

She knows that one day the terrifying Erebii might break through the city's outer defences, and if her people aren't prepared and the wall is breached then the last human city will fall. But everything Bea thinks she knows is about to be challenged... What does the ink really do as it flows underneath their skin and who is the mysterious Unwanted boy that keeps appearing in her life?

ISBN:
9780143571094
9780143571094
Category:
General fiction (Children's / Teenage)
Format:
Paperback
Publication Date:
28-01-2015
Publisher:
Penguin Random House
Country of origin:
Australia
Dimensions (mm):
199x129x22mm
Weight:
0.26kg
Chapter One

It was coming for her.

She sensed it following her through the empty crumbling alleyways – tracking the scent of her body, already slick with sweat.

Bea pressed in close against the ancient wall and a fragment broke off beneath her weight, making a soft thud and sprinkling dirt across her pierce-proof vest. Even that small sound was too loud. She tightened her belly and pulled herself flat. She was exposed here, surely. Her breasts, her forehead and the fronts of her thighs were still too visible. All too vulnerable.

A breeze stirred the dust on the road, lifting it up and rolling it between the dilapidated buildings. Seventy years ago, the Colonel said, this city had been a wonderland – with spires that reached the stars and marvels Bea could only ever imagine. The streets had been bordered by open green spaces where children played and flowers grew and Dreads and Storks had never been heard of.

No more though.

Those people were dead, those days gone.

Bea breathed out slowly. This was not the time to wonder about anything but the silent enemy moving through the streets towards her.

Her hands gripped her rifle. She knew every piece in the Swiftshot and the weight and feel of each component. Bea could put them all together with her eyes closed, as fast as a gutter mouse. She'd cleaned the gun that morning in the weapons store with Gus, and the odour of the oil still lingered on her fingers.

Gus and this morning seemed worlds away now.

Out on the deserted street something crashed, almost making her jump. A block of stone had fallen from high above and now lay smashed across the bitumen.

Her gaze travelled upwards.

The wind alone hadn't made that stone fall. The enemy was hidden above her somewhere, leaping between the buildings just as the Colonel had warned it would.

Bea raised the rifle to her shoulder and peered through the scope towards the gap in the ruins above her.

A thin trail of dust stirred at the top of one building and four long white fingers, almost human, hung over the guttering.

She held her breath as a lethal claw slid from each finger to catch the light.

Erititanium. Tough enough to slice through your ribs and scoop out your heart.

She watched as the claws scraped the gutter, sending a brief screech into the air before they vanished onto the roof.

Bea let her shoulders relax. She had to maintain control. Her hands needed to stay still or everything she'd trained for would be wasted.

But she was too exposed . . .

A tiny stream of sand trickled down the side of the wall in front of her. Then came more. She aimed the muzzle of her rifle at the guttering above, decreasing the magnification in the lens.

A flash of light caught her eye – sunbeams bouncing off metal – and Bea's enemy hurtled over the edge of the building towards her.

Dark metal wings the colour of ash unfolded from behind the erebus's shoulders as it fell. Boots hugged its feet, trailing worn laces. The creature had legs as long as any man's – and pale mottled arms. Bea backed away but there was too little space; it was so close and its face . . .

Looking into its eyes, all semblance of humanity vanished. Bea tried to tear her gaze away, but she was drawn to them. Eyes that burned like a molten sun, hot enough to scorch her hair and melt her cheeks.

The Colonel's warning repeated in her mind, Never look them in the eye.

Because there was something inside those eyes, something so powerful . . .

Without hesitation Bea pulled the trigger. She staggered backwards as deadly claws snatched at the air in front of her, only inches from her face. But it was over for the erebus. Its body tumbled onto the road in a pile of lean, sinewy limbs and strapped-on metal wings.

Bea stood for a moment with her heart thumping and her rifle pointed at its head. When it didn't move she kicked it.

It didn't stir, so she rolled it over with her foot and then she relaxed. It was very definitely dead. Her shot had made a ragged hole in its chest from which a dark viscous fluid leaked. Blood was sacred to the Erebii and she'd shamed this creature, spilling its blood on the ground.

The erebus had long brown hair, plaited into a single braid in the style its species preferred. Even amid the mess of flesh and blood Bea could see it had been female, its small breasts strapped back against its thin body so they wouldn't interfere with gliding.

Across its face, a network of veins heaved once then subsided. And the eyes stared back – wide, open and empty. The molten sun had gone and with it all power.

Bea shuddered, brushing her cheeks lightly with her fingers. There was no pain; her skin felt soft and smooth where that burning gaze had touched her.

Around her the buildings started wavering in and out of existence making her nauseous. Bea closed her eyes as she'd been taught and bent her knees to anchor herself to the solid floor.

Plenty of good cadets had lost points at this stage of the trial, spewing their breakfast all over their uniforms as the world swirled around them. Bea allowed her shoulders to relax. Beneath her feet the floor felt warm and reliable.

She opened her eyes to slits. The buildings and the road had vanished into a mass of surging colours – blue, red, yellow, green – but the dead erebus was still there, staring up at her, its thin lips frozen mid-snarl. She met its vacant eyes, maintaining the contact as the creature's body began to disintegrate from beneath; then she lifted her rifle above her head. The trial was over.

A roar rose into the air, a host of voices from all around her, but still she watched the erebus. Its face was unravelling – the jaw, the cheeks and the sharp, hooked nose – all vanishing cleanly away. And beneath it she could see the tough transparent floor of the pit and the holographic grid that made the simulated city possible.

She took a deep breath and, as the erebus disappeared, Bea finally looked up. The lights were coming on and above her she could see the high, domed ceiling of the arena. She opened her mouth, ready to release her own voice into the roar, but something was wrong.

There was a weight in her chest, a painful heaviness keeping her breath down and making her silent.

She saw in her mind the creature's vanishing face – its soft pink lips, the spray of freckles on its cheeks, the telltale creases in the corners of its eyes that usually come from smiling – and her cry fell away in her throat.

In death the erebus had looked human.

She shuddered: no one had warned her about that.

Nobody had told her the beast would have freckles.

Nausea stirred in the depths of her belly.

This was not supposed to happen – she was not supposed to feel like this.

Bea looked up at the stalls where the rest of the Dreads in her year sat with their eyes fixed on her. She couldn't even fake a smile, but they didn't seem to notice. After today, their three years of training together would be over and those that passed the trials would become Dread warriors. Most would go on to be ground troops, but not her. Bea aspired to something different.

Another cheer went up. Her fellow cadets were egging each other on, stomping their feet so the stalls shuddered.

Bea could see Gus in the back row, his huge frame towering above Juju and Billy beside him – he was impossible to miss. A wide grin was plastered across his face and when he caught her looking he held up a fist and hollered something that was lost in the roar.

Even he couldn't see there was something wrong.

Bea waited, pinned in the spotlight as the applause continued. She lowered her rifle and looked to the raised platform where the panel sat. There were three officers assessing the trials: the Colonel, who was not only principal of the army school but also Bea's senior training officer; Major Jessica York, a wiry grey woman who in her youth had been one of the first-ever Dread warriors; and of course, General Kale, who represented the council of the Elders.

The General was the most senior of the three, but his cap was pulled down low over his forehead concealing all but the tip of his sharp nose.

Beside him, Major York leant forward slightly; only the tremor in her hands betrayed the neural disease that was gradually wearing her away. She was one of the most highly decorated people Bea had ever seen and her skin was awash with ink, the dark patterns weaving one into the other across her cheeks, down her neck and along each arm to form elaborate snakes on her hands. The snakes were moving – sliding beneath the skin towards her fingertips.

Full Dread ink – the highest award there was. What greater honour could anyone hope to achieve in life other than ink?

As Major York studied her so did the snakes, moving their heads from side to side, mirroring her interest.
They looked so lifelike Bea almost expected them to drop from the Major's hands and slither across the floor.

Bea breathed in deeply, trying to forget the erebus's vanishing face. Ink would make everything worthwhile.

Major York was looking at Bea with her usual plastered-on smile – the one that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Uncomfortable, Bea turned her attention to the Colonel who was already on his feet and stepping up to the lectern. It relaxed her a little to see his familiar face and his quick smile of encouragement.

Today, she noticed, he'd attached a pin bearing the city's emblem to his lapel: two hands, one clasped tightly in the other. The letter L had been engraved on one of the hands in remembrance of Loyalty, the first of the
Elders and the army's original commander. The Elders themselves had stopped attending functions years ago, handing all public duties to army figureheads.

The Colonel's ink was far less obtrusive than Major York's, but his skin had folded relentlessly over the years into multiple layers of wrinkles that made him look older than his sixty-some years. To Bea he was an impressive commander and for three years she'd hung off his every word.

He traced a line on the surface of the lectern with his finger and the deep roll of the siren sounded.
Immediately the Dreads fell silent.

'Cadet Azaeli,' he said, the resonator on his lapel picking up his voice and amplifying it so it was three times its usual strength. 'Approach the panel.'

Bea's legs were still shaking, jumpy with adrenaline, but she forced them to carry her across the pit to the lectern where she stood looking up into the Colonel's craggy face.

He smiled down at her, his ink emerging as a panther padding slowly along his jawline, and she felt some of her confidence returning. Gus would be laughing as he watched – he always said the old man was too fond of her.

Major York's gaze held no warmth at all. The woman coughed, demanding Bea's attention, and leant forward even further. Her eyes crept slowly across Bea's face and hair, scrutinising the black dreadlocks scattered through it and travelling down the lean, muscular curves of her body.

'How often do you exercise?' she asked, in her icy voice.

'Morning and night,' Bea replied. 'At least four hours a day.'

'And you eat well? You're quite thin.'

'We have a balcony garden at home, Major York,' Bea said. 'My mother was a horticulturist so we've always
grown our own vegetables.'

'Good. A healthy body is an asset to the city.' Major York's smile grew wider still, in a way that made Bea shift uncomfortably.

She risked a glance at Kale. The General had tipped back his cap and was watching her from the shadow of the brim. Giant wasps swarmed in the ink on both his cheeks, but his thin lips, straight as razors, revealed nothing of his state of mind. Bea realised she was staring and quickly looked back at the Colonel's safe and familiar face.

'Cadet Azaeli,' he said. 'These physical simulations are the final test to becoming a Dread warrior and any pain felt in this arena is real. Today we saw an erebus attack you at close range, but you didn't flinch. Your reflexes are outstanding, cadet. It's no surprise to me that the panel has come to a swift and unanimous decision.'

Here he paused, making the silence around them heavier, then he raised his voice. 'You've passed your trial with distinction. Cadet Azaeli, you have earned your place as a Dread warrior of the city.'

From his seat on the panel Kale stirred, reaching forward to tap the Colonel's arm. Bea watched his lips move; but he had no resonator and she couldn't hear the words. The Colonel nodded and looked down at her sharply, the movement making his loose face quiver.

'Congratulations, cadet,' he said. 'On Graduation Day you'll take your oath and receive your first ink. You've been accepted as a sniper for the great city wall.'

'Sir . . .' Bea stared at him as the words sunk in. 'Thank you, sir.'

She turned and gave Kale and Major York the customary salute, then she hurried for the steps that led back up to the stalls and to Gus.

Bea smiled to herself – she'd done it. She'd passed the trial and now they were making her a sniper.

As she took the stairs past the first row of seats Bea heard a hiss and a titter followed by a quick, resonant slap. She darted a glance to her left. The row was filled with younger girls in bright neat tunics. Their faces were exquisitely painted and their hair plaited and lacquered into respectable coils high above their heads.

A plump blue-haired Ma'am sat among them, her lips fashioned into a perfect cupid's bow. One smooth, elegant hand was still held aloft, its palm slightly reddened, while in the seat directly behind her a girl was nursing her cheek, tears forming in her startled eyes.

These girls were from the Stork school at the other end of town and had been sent by their principal to watch the trials, probably as a punishment. Most Storks were terrified at the very thought of an erebus – even a simulated one – but the Ma'ams never let them hide their faces.
 
They should know what kind of enemies our warriors face, she'd heard the Colonel say.

Behind and to either side of them, the Dread warrior cadets looked drab and dirty by comparison, their mottled brown uniforms discoloured from years of sweat and trench manoeuvres. The city had finite natural resources and the army regarded new uniforms for cadets as an unnecessary cost so they were rarely replaced.

When she reached the top of the stall Bea turned right, slipping past the knees of her fellow cadets until she reached her seat. The lights were dimming again, but she could still see Gus's face clearly.

'You did it. You're going to be a sniper!' He reached for her too roughly, forgetting himself in his enthusiasm.

'Yeah.' She let herself be pulled down into the vacant seat at his side.

'Did you have fun?' He was grinning broadly, brushing a tangled brown dreadlock from his face. 'Didn't I tell you it would be fun?'

Bea tried to smile back. 'It was . . .'

Horrible.

She couldn't say it: not out loud. Gus was a true Dread – drunk on the excitement of the arena – and here she was, quaking like those little Storks.

'It was great,' she said. 'It was just like you told me.' She couldn't bear to disappoint him.

'This is it, Bea.' He squeezed her shoulder. 'We're graduating and we're going to change the world.'

She nodded, but he'd forgotten her already and was turning back to the pit, hungry for the next trial to begin.

Beneath the transparent floor of the pit the grid had begun to pulsate, sending out bright bolts of light that chased one another across its surface: blue, red, yellow, green.

From the stalls the Dreads watched transfixed. Even the Stork whose face had been slapped had stopped crying to look. A cadet had just entered the pit, his rifle ready in his hands. Bea heard a faint hum as the projectors went on, and then the road and the derelict buildings began to materialise.

All around her the Dreads were drumming their feet, making the stalls shake, letting their comrade know they would be there with him every moment of the trial.

Bea watched as the cadet hunkered in close to the nearest simulated wall. He could no longer hear the stamping in the stalls or see the panel of officers. In his mind, he was alone in a dilapidated city with an enemy that wanted him dead.

A shriek filled the air and Bea glimpsed a flash of metal between the buildings.

Erititanium.

The creature was close.

She closed her eyes, grateful for the darkness and thankful she had no Ma'am to slap them open again.

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Reviews

3.67

Based on 2 reviews

5 Star
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3 Star
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2 Reviews

(This review is an excerpt of a longer review on Readers in Wonderland)

It was only a couple of years ago when the dystopian trend was in full swing. We got some good books out of it, but we also got some carbon copies. A scaffolding arose and it started to feel like every book was the same. There’d be a main character who would lead a rebellion against a bad government in a post apocalyptic/experiment world where the general populace was broken up into classes. UNWANTED is another YA dystopian, but I’m glad to say it doesn’t follow the generic mould too closely! Also it’s by an Australian author, has basically no romance, and is a standalone.

The world of UNWANTED is quite interesting. There is the standard city surrounded by a wall, but that’s not the cool part. What I loved was the whole ink thing. Tattoos/ink play a major role in this world. All adults have one once they graduate from stalk school or dread (army) school, and the amount and type of ink you have signifies your rank and role in the system. And it’s not just a tattoo, it’s ink that moves and helps express things such as emotions.

The thing I enjoyed most about UNWANTED was how Holohan built the world. You know how we always ask for more showing not telling? Well Holohan’s mastered that technique. It was very rare that we’d get an info dump unless one character was explaining something directly to another. Most of the time she’d build the world by describing the surroundings and character’s actions. The writing really was great. Unfortunately some other parts of the novel have me feeling meh about it, as much as I enjoyed it.

Overall the plot of UNWANTED didn’t have much action. There was a bit at the start and the end (which was more brutal on the characters than I was expecting and didn’t last long enough) and the occasional close call as Bea went around helping rescue people. Other than that there wasn’t much. And I’m okay with that because the world was what I was more interested in anyway, plus it took me in a direction I wasn’t entirely expecting. Even though the society has a dystopian sounding set up, there’s a sci fi element to it: the Erebii. These creatures and their technology were so interesting, would have loved for them to be fleshed out more.

UNWANTED is a dystopian novel I think a lot of people have been asking for: a standalone dystopian with basically no romance. The world was very interesting and superbly developed. I loved the way the author wove the history and world building into the descriptions and didn’t rely on info dumps, instead showing us how the world worked. The plot also surprised me, taking itself in a direction I wasn’t really expecting. Ultimately the only reason this didn’t get a really high rating from me was because I would have liked a bit more action and I never really formed an emotional attachment to the characters.

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This was a serious surprise! UNIQUENESS ALERT! YAY! I went into UNWANTED not knowing very much because the blurb is teeny tiny. It's basically a dystopic city where all the inhabitants are trained to kill the monsters (Erebii) outside the walls.

It's a bit of dystopian, bit of apocalypse, and a squidge of magic.The world felt really dusty, a little ancient, and very desperate. They call their warriors Dreads (!! so cool !!) and as they move up the army ranks, they get covered in tattoos (called getting "inked"). And the tattoos move. It's creepy and yet cool and so well written.

BUT, I didn't connect with ANY of the characters. Like, nope, nada. I felt the book was devoid of the emotion. Bea felt 12 instead of 18. There's no romantic hints until the very very end when Bea yells "I LOVE YOU" to one of her boys (yep, there's a cliche dystopian love-triangle) because (I quote) it's easier than saying goodbye. I admired Bea but she never did/thought/felt anything to make me care.

I loved the world, didn't love the characters, and was seriously impressed with the ending.

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