Carrie Ryan - The Dead-Tossed Waves

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Im so incredibly grateful for the people whove cheered me on, offered thoughts, advice, research, and generally just stuck with me over the past year during the writing of this book. Im overwhelmed by your generosity and love, and thank you never seems like an adequate phrase to express how deeply I appreciate all of you, including all the readers out there.

Jim McCarthy is more than I could have ever asked for in an agent, and I feel lucky every day to be working with him. Krista Marino, my editor, shows endless patience and brilliance at every stageshes downright amazing. Kelly Galvin, my publicist, works tirelessly and yet always has time to spend an afternoon catching up and sharing secrets. Ive loved continuing to work with the fantastic team at Delacorte Press over the past year and am constantly overcome by their enthusiasm and dedication. Many thanks to Beverly Horowitz for her support, to Jocelyn Lange and the subsidiary rights department for introducing Mary and Gabry to so many countries, to Vikki Sheatsley for the beautiful design, to Jonathan Barkat, whose photograph was the inspiration for the coaster by the sea, and to Colleen Fellingham and Barbara Perris for their attention to detail. To the many sales associates Ive been lucky to meet online or in person: Lauren Gromlowicz, Tim Mooney, Dandy Conway, Deanna Meyerhoff and Cristin Stickles. Also a big thanks to Jessica Shoffel, Kimberly Langus, Rebecca Platkin and Becky Green.

During the writing of this book Ive been lucky to meet some very amazing writers whove grown into amazing friends. Thanks to the 2009 Debutantes, Gothic Girls, Team Castle and especially my Writing Group: Saundra Mitchell (who was willing to read and critique at any hour), Sarah MacLean, Heidi Kling, Aprilynne Pike, Sarah Rees Brennan, RJ Anderson and Sarah Cross. Thanks also to Diana Peterfreund, a truly fantastic friend and critique partner, Justine Larbalestier and Holly Black for giving me the chance to expand this world and my voice, and Ally Carter for one particular phone call in which she gave me the most perfect advice.

Without Kris Finlon, Id still be trying to figure out critical details of the plot. Thanks also to: Shea Mucci for giving me insight into the effects of a forest fire, Dennis and the crew at 300 East for sharing all the celebrations and excitement, Darren Cassese and Kymm for the author photos, and Madeira James for the gorgeous online presence.

I never know how to adequately thank my family because their love and support can never be summed up easily. Their enthusiasm for my writing is without bounds and constantly thrills, amazes and humbles me. Thanks to Bobby and Doug Kidd for letting me borrow their romance; to my father, Tony Ryan, for car rides when he helped me work through plot details and for always supporting my imagination; to my sisters, Jenny Sell and Chris Warnick, for being early readers (and for not being able to put the manuscript down while cooking dinner)I tear up thinking about how lucky I am to be your baby sister. Also thanks to the Davis family for supporting and loving me as if Id always been one of their own (and for accepting a daughter-in-law who brings zombies to the family). Finally, as always, to John Parke Davis. Stephen King once said that every author writes for one reader. JP is that reader.

ALSO BY CARRIE RYAN

The Forest of Hands and Teeth

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Born and raised in Greenville, South Carolina, Carrie Ryan is a graduate of Williams College and Duke University School of Law. She now lives and writes in Charlotte, North Carolina. The Dead-Tossed Waves is her second book for young readers. Look for The Forest of Hands and Teeth, the companion title, available from Delacorte Press.

To learn more about Carrie Ryan, please visit her at www.carrieryan.com.

T he story goes that even after the Return they tried to keep the roller coasters going. They said it reminded them of the before time. When they didnt have to worry about people rising from the dead, when they didnt have to build fences and walls and barriers to protect themselves from the masses of Mudo constantly seeking human flesh. When the living werent forever hunted.

They said it made them feel normal.

And so even while the Mudoneighbors and friends whod been infected, died and Returnedpulled at the fences surrounding the amusement park, they kept the rides moving.

Even after the Forest was shut off, one last gasp at sequestering the infection and containing the Mudo, the carousel kept turning, the coasters kept rumbling, the teacups kept spinning. Though my town of Vista was far away from the core of the Protectorate, they hoped people would come fly along the coasters. Would still want to forget.

But then travel became too difficult. People were concerned with trying to survive and little could make them forget the reality of the world they lived in. The coasters slowly crumbled outside the old city perched at the tip of a long treacherous road along the coast. Everyone simply forgot about them, one other aspect of pre-Return life that gradually dimmed in the memories and stories passed down from year to year.

I never really thought about them until tonightwhen my best friends older brother invites us to sneak past the Barriers and into the ruins of the amusement park with him and his friends.

Come on, Gabry, Cira whines, dancing around me. I can almost feel the energy and excitement buzzing off her skin. We stand next to the Barrier that separates Vista from the ruins of the old city, the thick wooden wall keeping the dangers of the world out and us safely in. Already a few of the older kids have skimmed over the top, their feet a flash against the night sky. I rub my palms against my legs, my heart a thrum in my chest.

There are a thousand reasons why I dont want to go with them into the ruins, not the least of which is that its forbidden. But theres one reason I do want to take the risk. I glance past Cira to her brother and his eyes catch mine. I cant stop the seep of heat crawling up my neck as I dart my gaze away, hoping he didnt notice me looking and at the same time desperately wishing he did.

Gabry? he asks, his head tilted to the side. From his lips my name curls around my ears. An invitation.

Afraid of the tangle of words twisting around my own tongue, I swallow and place my hand against the thick wood of the Barrier. Ive never been past it before. Its against the rules to leave the town without permission and its also risky. While most of the ruins are bordered by old fences from after the Return, Mudo can still get through them.

They can still attack us.

We shouldnt, I say, more to myself than to Cira or Catcher. Cira just rolls her eyes; shes already jumping with desire to join the others. She grabs my arm with a barely repressed squeal.

This is our chance, she whispers to me. I dont tell her what Ive been thinkingthat its our chance to get in trouble at best and I dont want to think about what could happen at worst.

But she knows me well enough to read my thoughts. No ones been infected in years, she says, trying to convince me. Catcher and them go out there all the time. Its totally safe.

Safea relative term. A word my mother always uses with a hard edge to her voice. I dont know , I say, twisting my fingers together, wishing I could just say no and be done with it but hating to disappoint my best friend the way Ive done too often before.

One day several years ago during the drought, Cira dared me to cross the wide river that separates our town from the Forest. We were gathering water at the spot in the river where theres a break in the fence when the Militiaman on duty suddenly got sick and left us alone. Cira teased me because I wouldnt try it. Because I was too afraid that the Militiaman would come back and see us and I refused to break the rule forbidding us from the Forest.