The Other Side of Dawn (The Tomorrow Series #7)

The Other Side of Dawn (The Tomorrow Series #7)

John Marsden

Language: English

Pages: 336

ISBN: 0439858054

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

The Other Side of Dawn (The Tomorrow Series #7)

John Marsden

Language: English

Pages: 336

ISBN: 0439858054

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


This is it -- the final explosive chapter in an epic saga of war and rebellion. An international bestseller that fans will not be able to resist.

Since their town was invaded by enemy soldiers and transformed into a war zone, Ellie and her four surviving friends have been fighting for their lives. One year later, a resolution may finally be in sight. But as enemy forces close in on her hideout, Ellie discovers that the final battle may be the most dangerous yet. And not every soldier is fated to see the end of every conflict.

There are no more hiding places left in this exhilarating conclusion to Ellie's struggle for freedom, dignity, and, above all else, a sense of peace.

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times. Pineapples meant: ‘D-day postponed twelve hours. Give us a call some time if you’re not doing anything, and we might be able to go out, catch a movie, whatever.’ Well, maybe I didn’t get that last bit quite right. Anyway, like it or not, we’d got ourselves a twelve-hour reprieve. And it was the last thing I wanted! My nerves were screaming for action. In some ways the best message would have been Wallaby, which meant D-Day postponed indefinitely: ‘Abandon all plans’. But that wouldn’t have

then, as suddenly as I’d lost them. I turned and ran. It was a blind, mad race. There was no time to zigzag or do anything tricky. All I could do was put my head down and sprint. The scrub was thick and getting thicker. Branches lashed my face a dozen times in the first hundred metres. Each one stung more than the others. I hardly noticed. I was in a crosscountry race for life. I wasn’t making any ground on these guys, but I didn’t think they were gaining either. I wished for help but there was

work parade starts now.’ ‘Work parade?’ But she was already trotting away, between the lines of tents. I followed her to the place where we’d had the rollcall before breakfast. After the little panic to get there we had an anticlimax, waiting for another three-quarters of an hour while orders were yelled and cancelled, lists were checked, long lines of men were marched away from their section to different locations, and we got colder and hungrier. Issa stood beside me, huddled into a holey old

was it, there was no because. They just did it. I saw terrible things. On my second day at the quarry, shovelling mud, a girl near me got mud pushed down her throat by a guard who decided he didn’t like her attitude. He made her swallow, I don’t know, about a litre of the stuff, until she lay on the ground spewing and choking. He walked away laughing. I took my lead from the others, like the day before, and didn’t try to interfere. I asked Issa that night: ‘Why doesn’t anyone do anything?’

that he had survived. There was a noise from outside. I jumped up nervously. With the briefest of knocks, a couple of people hurried in. I recognised one of them as Don Murray, a farmer from Wirrawee, but I didn’t know the woman. She was short and dark-skinned, and she gave me a great warm smile. ‘It is you,’ Don said. ‘Fantastic! This is just wonderful. The first good thing that’s happened in this whole damn war.’ ‘What’s happening outside?’ I asked nervously. ‘It’s under control,’ he said. ‘We

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