Legacy

THE OUTLIERS

LEGACY

BOOK TWO

CLAIRE CHILTON

WWW.CLAIRE-CHILTON.COM

Legacy (The Outliers)

Copyright © 2008 by Claire Chilton

The right of Claire Chilton to be identified as the author of the Work has been asserted him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

First published in Great Britain in 2010 by Claire Chilton.

All rights reserved.

Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, and the United Kingdom Copyright Act of 1956 and 1988. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

This edition is published in Great Britain by Ragz Books

Illustration by Claire Chilton

CONTENTS

COVER

START

COPYRIGHT

CONTENTS

BOOK DESCRIPTION

DEDICATIONS

ONE | SCHOOL'S OUT

TWO | WRONG TURN

THREE | KALAMARIAN ENCOUNTERS

FOUR | SPARKLE AND SHINE

FIVE | HOME SWEET HOME

SIX | LOST

SEVEN | THE EVER CHANGING WORLD

EIGHT | THE THING ABOUT ZOREMONES

NINE | MYSTERIES AND HISTORIES

TEN | FOAMY MANSION

ELEVEN | A DATE WITH DESTINY

TWELVE | LOVE AND GOOBLIES

THIRTEEN | SECRETS AND LIES

FOURTEEN | RULERS AND RHECKNAWS

FIFTEEN | THE IN-LAWS

SIXTEEN | GUESS WHO'S COMING TO DINNER

SEVENTEEN | THE BIG BANG

EPILOGUE

GLOSSARY

DETENTION

SHATTERED

INHERITANCE

THE FALLEN QUEEN

AUTHOR'S NOTE

AUTHOR

MORE BOOKS

THE OUTLIERS

LEGACY

A REBELLIOUS TEENAGE OUTCAST IS THEIR ONLY HOPE…

She's wild and outspoken. Trouble follows Carla Mainston wherever she goes. But what do you expect from a purple outcast living in a green colony?

When a deadly disease spreads through the colony, and Carla's brother Joe becomes infected, she knows she has to find a cure before it's too late. But when her genetics kick in, and she begins inheriting mysterious superpowers, her life becomes a whole new level of crazy.

If she can just get a handle on her new powers, which so far only seem to make her gooey over boys, maybe she can become a superhero and save everyone, assuming she doesn’t get arrested or have the life sucked out of her before then…

DEDICATIONS

This book is dedicated to Margaret and Jonathan for their love, support and kindness.

I’d also like to thank all the wonderful authors I’ve encountered on my journey as a writer for their continual support and friendship, with a special thanks to Trin and Eileen for their exceptional work and support on this book.

ONE

SCHOOL'S OUT

Carla Mainston tried to ignore the panic bubbling in her stomach as the butch-looking nurse tightened a torque around her upper arm. She stared down at the lilac skin on her forearm for a moment before glancing up and wincing when the green-skinned nurse held up a vicious-looking syringe.

I hate needles.

Screw this. Carla jumped out of her seat. I’ve changed my mind.

The nurse pushed her back into the chair. Don’t be such a baby. It’s just a vaccination.

Carla eyed the clear liquid as it rolled out of the tip of the needle and splashed onto the green linoleum floor. The liquid sizzled on the rubber.

Vaccination for what? I’m pretty sure I don’t need acid or whatever that crap is in my body. She struggled against the nurse’s iron grip on her arm.

It’s perfectly safe. It’s been sent here by the top scientists in the colony, the nurse said in a soothing voice.

Oh well, that makes me feel much safer. Glad to hear that the experts in cleaning products have been working on it, Carla muttered as she tried to wriggle out of the chair.

There’s no need to over-react, the nurse said.

I’m allergic! Carla lied. I’m a purple-skinned traveler from the colony of bullshittio, and er, if you put that in me, I’ll die!

You’ve been at this school for five years, and I know your mother! Stop lying, and stop being such a baby about it. It’ll hurt more if you struggle.

Stop being such a psycho about it. It’ll hurt less if you don’t stick that thing in me, Carla cried as she kicked out, knocking the medical stand full of vials over in the process.

I need some help in here! The nurse called out to the closed door as she tried to pin Carla to her seat while still holding a syringe in her left hand.

The door burst open, and Carla scowled as her BSC teacher, Ms. Kaladin, rushed into the room. Oh great, more sadists.

Miss Mainston, there is no need for this. Why do you always have to make a big fuss over everything? Ms. Kaladin’s old, green face scowled down at her as she grabbed her free arm and held her down in the chair.

Through the open door, Carla saw a line of green-skinned students waiting for their injections. At the end of the corridor there was an older man speaking to a blue-skinned younger man.

Help! she cried, struggling against the two women that were holding her down.

No one paid her much attention other than the blue guy, who turned to stare at her. There was a frown on his face and concern in his eyes.

Help me, she pleaded.

His frown deepened, and he made a move toward her, but the green man beside him gripped his arm and turned him to face him instead.

She felt a moment of hope blossom in her chest as the blue man shook off the green guy and turned, striding toward the open door with a look of determination on his handsome face.

She watched the green guy behind him scowl as the blue man headed toward her. She frowned with recognition as she stared at the green man.

Is that Lord Foamy? What the hell is he doing here?

Lord Foamy owned half of Derobmi. He was often seen at big events in the city. He was rarely seen in school corridors.

She shook her head. 

Who gives a crap, right now?

She stared hopefully at the blue man as he neared the door, only to have her hope fizzle away as Ms. Kaladin glanced back and kicked the door shut in the blue man’s face.

Oh, come on! This can’t be legal. I don’t want a stupid injection. Carla turned to face the nurse.

Don’t worry, Carla. The vaccination can’t make you any more of a freak. She heard Danielle Albright’s snarky voice call through the closed door.

Carla scowled. She knew the vicious blonde teenager’s voice well enough from years of bullying.

Don’t worry, Danielle. People can barely tell that you were lobotomized at an early age. It’s only obvious when you gawp at them. Carla shouted back through the door as she tried to pull her arm out of the nurse’s iron grip.

Carla, give it a rest. Ms. Kaladin scowled down at her. And stop bloody kicking me!

Bite me, you old heifer. Carla narrowed her eyes at the teacher, but then widened them in shock as she felt something sharp poke into her arm.

No!

She glanced down to see the nurse pulling the syringe out of her arm, then dab it with a cotton bud.

See it wasn’t so bad, the nurse said with a smile.

Carla’s stomach churned as the nurse slapped a strip of surgical tape over the cotton bud. For the first time in her life, she felt a bit green as she leaned over the arm of the chair and threw up on Ms. Kaladin’s sensible shoes.

When she’d finished retching, she glanced up from her sprawled position in the chair and smiled weakly at Ms. Kaladin, whose expression rapidly changed from one of annoyance to one of pure horror.

Ms. Kaladin went into a purple rage, which really clashed with her usual complexion of lime-green. She scowled as she handed Carla a paper towel and a detention slip. Get the hell out of here!

Carla managed to grab her satchel and coat before several of the other pupils burst into the room, running to her aid as they began vigorously scrubbing their teacher’s shoes.

She was happy to leave when she heard the raspy tones of Ms. Kaladin ordering Jemima Stiller to do extra homework on the properties of a Stain Devil because Jemima had attempted to use one on a leather shoe.

Carla headed for the girls’ toilets after leaving the nurse’s office in a hurry. She wanted to find out what kind of a state she was in before she headed to the headmaster’s office.

She scowled down at her throbbing arm.

The school nurse is a butcher!

Her footsteps echoed on the bathroom tiles as she entered the restroom. She peered at the bottom of the stalls to ensure they were empty.

Once she was certain she was alone, she turned on the cold water tap and leaned over it, drinking some and spitting some out to remove taste of bile from her mouth.

She stood up and wiped her chin on her sleeve before she stared into the mirror mounted on the white-tiled wall above the pristine white sink.

Her face seemed more purple than usual because her lilac skin had reddened with anger. Her hair was sticking out in a wild mass of black curls, and her eyes seemed to glow green.

She still felt queasy and out of place. But in Derobmi, she’d always been out of place. She was the only purple girl in the colony after all.

She rolled up her sleeve and stared at her damaged arm. The cotton bud was dotted with red blood.

She gazed at it and sighed.

I’ve been violated.

She glanced down and saw a blob of blood on the rolled up sleeve of her white blouse. She quickly scrubbed it until it was reduced to a brownish stain.

Great, she muttered to herself. Just perfect!

She slammed her bag on the floor and scowled at the detention slip in her hand.

It was a small, lime-green piece of folded paper with red writing on it, addressed to ‘Headmaster Saunderson’.

She frowned. Detention slips weren’t usually written in red. She opened the note and read the bold red print.

CARLA MAINSTON HAS BEEN SENT TO HEADMASTER SAUNDERSON FOR MISBEHAVIOR…

In blue ink beneath the print, Ms. Kaladin’s unmistakable handwriting was scrawled across the bottom of the paper.

IN THE NURSE’S STATION BY MS. KALADIN (BSC LEVEL TUTOR).

Carla frowned.

They’ve printed out a batch of these especially for me!

Did she write this out in advance?

It was only week one of her fifth year. They didn’t have very high expectations of her, did they?

She shook her head and looked sadly at the letters BSC. A BSC was a Basic Scrubbing and Cleaning qualification in the small colony of Derobmi, and the lowest qualification that the education system had to offer.

She sighed again, picked up her bag and set off for the Administration Office. 

This is so unfair!

A loud smashing sound caused Carla to jump.

Crap! A deep male voice echoed across the quad.

She frowned in the direction of the voice. The quad corridor was empty. She noticed a blue hand poking out around the corner, sweeping up broken glass ahead of her.

Ignoring the fact that she was supposed to be begging the headmaster to give her a second chance right now, she hurried towards the arm.

She turned the corner and peered down at a muscled, blue-skinned man, who was wearing a lab coat. It was the guy that had tried to save her earlier. He was kneeling down and sweeping up broken glass with his bare hands. She frowned down at him.

Is he a new teaching assistant?

She glanced at the nearby classrooms. She’d been at this school for five years, and there were rarely any new teachers. It seemed that even the oldest ones at the school refused to retire or drop dead.

Er, aren’t you supposed to be in class? His voice made her jump, and she glanced down to meet a pair of bright blue eyes.

He was only a couple of years older than she was.

Aren’t you? she asked.

He narrowed his eyes at her. I’m a scientist, not a student, he muttered.

She glanced down at the fallen vials he was sweeping up into a cardboard box. Three of them had smashed open and were now sizzling on the tiles.

What are they? She nodded at the bubbling liquid.

Vaccination shots.

She raised an eyebrow. Yeah, I know that. But why are they sizzling? Are they supposed to do that? She stared at the fizzing liquid.

He frowned at them. Er, probably. Are you okay? He appeared genuinely concerned.

I’ll live, thanks. Why don’t you know what they’re supposed to do? I thought you were a scientist.

I’m just delivering them. He stood up, lifting the box off the floor as he rose.

Ah, you’re a delivery boy? She eyed his muscled blue arms as they tensed under his rolled-up sleeves.

He scowled at her. I’m a—

Parklon, what the hell are you doing? A sharp voice echoed down the corridor, interrupting them.

Carla peered around the blue guy to see the austere green face of Lord Foamy scowling at them both.

She glanced back at the blue guy named Parklon. He rolled his eyes before turning to face Lord Foamy with a smile. Just checking the contents, sir.

Hurry up! Lord Foamy narrowed his eyes.

She frowned. Foamy seemed much nicer on the television.

What are you doing? Why aren’t you in class? Foamy shot her a steely glare.

Why does everyone keep asking me that?

Had to have an injection. She narrowed her eyes at him.

Good, now go play somewhere else, Foamy boomed.

She fought her instinct to tell him to get stuffed while eyeing the broken vials on the floor. She was in enough trouble for one day.

Sure thing. She smiled brightly before turning in her heel and hurrying toward the side exit of the quad.

She glanced back to see Foamy staring at her. When he noticed her looking, he snatched the box out of Parklon’s hands before turning on his heel and striding away.

Parklon watched him for a moment before shrugging and walking toward the main entrance.

Carla frowned as she stepped out onto the school grounds.

What’s Lord Foamy got to do with the annual vaccinations?

She shook her head, ignoring her own question as she hurried across the sports pitch toward the Headmaster’s office, which was inside the administration building.

She paused as she stared at the administration building. It was an impressive building with green marble pillars lining the stone steps up to its oak double doors. The original name of Dunmount Boys School was still engraved in the stone plinth above the doors as a historical reminder from a time before the school had been merged with Winghill Girls School to create the current, Dunghill Secondary Modern.

The old, main building of the school was now a base for the staff to use for ‘administrative procedures’, which usually meant sitting and drinking cups of tea. Meanwhile, the students were