Summer Lane Quotes

Wake me up if you see anything alarming."
"Like ... ?"
"Like an airplane dropping on our heads or a band of marauders on the side of the road. Little things like that.

I don't know how it happened. Nobody does. There are only theories, empty rhetoric and doomsday prophecies. None of them are right, but none of them are completely wrong, either. They all have a grain of truth. All I know is where I was and what I was doing when it happened.

Things used to be easy. Flip a switch? On goes the light. Press a button? You're calling your parents. Swipe a credit card? You just paid for lunch. Easy, simple, convenient. Nothing is like that anymore

What's your name?" I ask again.
"Chris," he says. "Chris Young."
I exhale dramatically, blowing my bangs out of my eyes.
"I can take you," I reply. "But if you try anything, I'll shoot you right between the eyes. Seriously."
He almost smiles.
"Yes, ma'am.

Despite everything, every piece of Alaska sang to me. I remembered every curve in the trails, every tree in the forest. It was familiar to me, comfortable. The more I thought about leaving it, the less I liked the idea. This was my home.

Why don't I ask the questions?" he purrs. "What is your name?" "Anne of Green Gables," I say. "Where are you from?" he demands. "Canada. Where the moose live." "Give me real answers," he hisses. He no longer smiles.

I've never been on a bike," I say. "I mean, I've been on a bike but not a motorcycle."
"And why is that?" he asks.
"Bugs. They get in your mouth, right? That's just gross."
Chris makes a face.
"If you ride around with your mouth hanging open, I assume that could be a possibility.

Outside, the dogs whine over the wind. They sense the wolves - they sense the wild. It calls to them, like it calls to me, and I wonder sometimes if we are the only ones who hear it.

She's got the kind of exotic beauty I always dreamed about. But really, who cares about stuff like that anymore? Being pretty isn't going to keep my butt out of Omega's crosshairs.

There isn't a Zen zone on this side of the planet that could calm me down.

You're staring at me."
"I am not. I'm just ... thinking. Without blinking.

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Grief is like an ocean. It comes in waves - some waves are bigger than others and you cannot prepare for it.

Tecumseh recognized that standing alone is never the way. There is strength in numbers.

As long as we're both alive and our hearts are still beating, there's still a chance. I won't go down without a fight, and I know you won't either. That gives us a chance.

Chris hops out of the vehicle, wearing a tight black tee. He pulls his hair back and throws his backpack over his shoulder, looking read to punch somebody out. Or maybe that's his happy face. I don't know.

At last, somebody in line steps forward. "I can commit," he says. He's a tall, lean young man with a rifle slung over his back.
"What's your name?" Chris asks.
"Andrew," he replies. "And I'm in."
Chris nods. A few other guys step forward and, after a few moments, the entire crowd of ex-POWs takes one step, signifying their decision. My chest swells with pride – pride for Chris's leadership, pride for the people willing to give their lives to take down Omega.
It's a rush.