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“You saw the way everyone looked at him? And when I asked for nominations, his was the first name mentioned. I don’t like it, his being Nurse Temple’s son. That’s a bad coincidence. Get a read on him. If he has the power, we may not be able to wait to deal with him.”
― Michael Grant

“My little man,â€� she said.
“N´Ç.â€�
She stretched out her hand to him. “Come.�
“I can’t,� he said.
“Sam, I’m your mother. I love you. Come with me.�
“M´Ç³¾â€¦â¶Ä�
“Just reach out to me. I’m safe. I can carry you away, out of this place.�
Sam shook his head slowly, slowly, like he was drowning in molasses. Something was happening to time. Astrid wasn’t breathing. Nothing was moving. The whole world was frozen.
“It will be like it was,� his mother said.
“It was never�,� he began. “You lied to me. You never told me…�
“I never lied,� she said, and frowned at him, disappointed.
“You never told me I had a brother. You never told—�
“Just come with me,� she said, impatient now, jerking her hand a little like she would when he was a little kid and refused to take her hand to cross the street. “Come with me now, Sam. You’ll be safe and out of this place.�
He reacted instinctively, the little boy again, reacted to the “mommy� voice, the “obey me� voice. He reached for her, stretched his hand out to her.
And pulled it back.
“I can’t,� Sam whispered. “I have someone I have to stay here for.�
Anger flashed in his mother’s eyes, a green light, surreal, before she blinked and it was gone.
And then, out of the bleached, unreal world, Caine stepped into the eerie light.
Sam’s mother smiled at Caine, and he stared at her wonderingly. “Nurse Temple,� Caine said.
“Mom,� she corrected. “It’s time for both my boys to join me, to come away with me. Out of this place.�
Caine seemed spellbound, unable to tear his gaze away from the gentle, smiling face, the piercing blue eyes.
“Why?� Caine asked in a small child’s voice.
Their mother said nothing. Once again, for just a heartbeat, her blue eyes glowed a toxic green before returning to cool, icy blue.
“Why him and not me?� Caine asked.
“It’s time to come with me now,� their mother insisted. “We’ll be a family. Far from here.�
“You first, Sam,� Caine said. “Go with your mother.�
“No,� Sam said.
Caine’s face darkened with rage. “Go, Sam. Go. Go. Go with her.� He was shouting now. He seemed to want to grab Sam physically, push him toward the mother they had not quite shared, but his movements were odd, disjointed, a jerky stick figure in a dream.
Caine gave up trying. “Jack told you,� he said dully.
“No one told me anything,� Sam said. “I have things I have to do here.�
Their mother extended her arms to them, angry, demanding to be heeded. “Come to me. Come to me.�
Caine shook his head slowly. “N´Ç.â€�
“But you’re the man of the house now, Sam,� his mother wheedled. “My little man. Mine.�
“No,� Sam said. “I’m my own man.�
“And I was never yours,� Caine sneered. “Too late now, Mother.�
The face of their mother wavered. The tender flesh seemed to break apart in jigsaw-puzzle pieces. The gently smiling, pleading mouth melted, collapsed inward. In its place a mouth ringed with needle-sharp teeth. Eyes filled with green fire.
“I’ll have you yet,� the monster raged with sudden violence.
Caine stared in horror. “What are you?�
“What am I?â€� the monster mocked him savagely. “I’m your future. You’ll come to me on your own in the dark place, Caine. You will come willingly to me.”
― Michael Grant

“There were dozens of theories about what it was, that dome. Every scientist in the world, it seemed, had made a pilgrimage to the site. Tests had been conducted, measurements taken.
They had tried drilling through it. Under it. Had flown over it. Had dug beneath it. Had approached it by submarine.
Nothing worked.
Every species of doomsayer from Luddite to End Times nut had had his say. It was a judgment. On America’s technological obsession, on America’s moral failure. This. That. Something else.
Then the twins had popped out. Just like that. First Emma. Then, a few minutes later, Anna. Alive and well at the exact moment of their fifteenth birthday.
They told tales of life inside the bowl. What they called the FAYZ.
Connie Temple’s heart had swelled with pride for what she had learned of her son, Sam. And crashed into despair with tales of her other son, her unacknowledged child, Caine.
Then, nothing. No other kids arrived for a while.
Black despair settled over the families as they realized that it would be only these two. Months passed. Many lost faith. How could kids survive alone?
But then, the Prophetess had reached into their dreams.
One night Connie Temple had a lurid, incredible dream. She’d never had such a detailed dream. It was terrifying. The power of it took her breath away. There was a girl in that dream.
This girl spoke to her in the dream. It’s a dream, the girl said.
Yes, just a dream, Connie had answered.
Not just a dream. Never say “just� a dream, the girl had corrected. A dream is a window to another reality.
Who are you? Connie had asked.
My name is Orsay. I know your son.
Connie had been about to say, Which one? But some instinct stopped her. The girl did not look dangerous. She looked hungry.
Do you have a message for Sam? the girl asked.
Yes, Connie said. Tell him to let them go.
Let them go.
Let them go off into the red sunset. ”
― Michael Grant, Lies