The first sentence from each chapter of Earthbound, it's a mini summary of what you can expect to read.
* Spoilers are highlighted like so :)
* Received from the publisher for review.
“I remember the plane going down.”
“Therapy is the epitome of the best and worst of everything in my life.”
“Usually my nightmares are about the crash, about those moments I don’t remember.”
“I don’t see Benson when I enter the library—not entirely unheard of, he does occasionally have to do actual work.”
“The route from the library to the physical therapy center takes me up Park Street, through an old section of town.”
“Hey, Tave,” Jay says as I slide into the passenger seat, my leg throb-bing from ankle to hip.”
“He doesn’t seem to take any notice of me as I walk up, blinking furi-ously and trying to make sure I actually see him.”
“Where are you?”
“So have you seen him again?”
“It’s pouring by the time our session is done.”
“Benson parks against the curb in front of his off-campus house and by the time he gets around to my door, I’m already out and shifting from foot to foot, anxious to get inside.”
“But instead of talking, he pulls out his cell phone.”
“Despite vehement protests about the rain—which, of course, started up again about two minutes after I got into Benson’s car, stupid weather—I make Benson drop me off down the street from the house.”
“My lungs ache—I can’t breathe.”
“I’m exhausted already.”
“Fear courses through me and I avoid looking at him and start walking toward the library.”
“I check the gap in the curtains for about the hundredth time—Benson still isn’t here.”
“I’ve tried every key twice, and the door to Reese’s office remains stub-bornly locked.”
“I don’t think.”
“My thoughts and I are silent for the first few minutes as we drive along.”
“I’m not sure why I’m not telling Benson the truth about where we’re go-ing.”
“I don’t expect to fall asleep quickly; I figure I’ll spend hours drowning in fruitless self-pity.”
“We walk—Quinn heading roughly back in the direction of Cam-den, but still deep within the trees—for what feels like hours.”
“I focus on the news on the television the next morning.”
“Hey, Baklava, we’re here,” Benson says, poking my ribs.”
“I wake in a comfortable darkness, floating slowly out of a haze to the sight of an orange sun piercing through a canopy of nearly bare-branched trees.”
“The door’s still ajar.”
“I don’t think I can drive,” I say when we finally catch sight of Reese’s car half an hour later through the swirling gusts of sharp, icy winds.”
“Five minutes later I step into a scalding shower and sigh in sheer plea-sure.”
“He’s beautiful in the morning sunlight.”
“Quinn’s lips are indescribably soft on mine, and I’m half-afraid I’ll die from the burst of ecstasy that surges through me.”
“Sobs are racking my body before I realize I’ve started crying.”
“The instant the metal touches my skin, I’m in a whirlwind of light and color that flashes before my eyes, brilliant, excruciating, blind-ing in its radiance.”
“You need to find him, don’t you?”
“Let’s all stay calm,” Jay says in a soft, even tone that makes me want to reach out and smack him.”
“The virus?”
“Something inside me wrenches away control of my mind and I fall to one knee.”
“I’m lying on something hard and lumpy and my clothing is slightly damp, making the freezing wind all the more biting.”
“No one could have survived an explosion like that.”
“Phoenix!”
