More Than This is mystery, thriller, fiction and adventure novel which plots the story of a man who thinks he is dead and now open his eyes in hell. More Than This by Patrick Ness is fiction, thriller, adventure and mystery novel in which a man thinks he is living in hell after. More Than This by Patrick Ness A boy drowns Then he wakes, naked and bruised and thirsty, but alive. Expand text Do you have an epub file.?. Patrick Ness - A Monster . When Mae Holland is hired to work for the Circle, the world's most powerful Patrick Ness - More Than

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Available in: Paperback. From two-time Carnegie Medal winner Patrick Ness comes an enthralling and provocative new novel chronicling the life - or perhaps . More Than This: eBook (Reflowable ePub). By Patrick Ness. From two-time Carnegie Medal winner Patrick Ness comes an enthralling and. From two-time Carnegie Medal winner Patrick Ness comes an enthralling and provocative new novel chronicling the life—or perhaps afterlife—of a teen trapped.

The more afraid its prey got, the more they shone like a beacon to the Snowscape. Over the generations, the Spackle in these parts had learned both how to hide from it physically, underneath the snow, but also in their Noise. That was the weird thing that had happened when me and Wilf and Mikkelsen were suddenly feeling a whole lot better about things.

The Spackle here had found a way to remove anger and fear from their own Noise, making them less visible to the Snowscape. With the added benefit that, hey, it was getting rid of anger and fear, making their home one of the most peaceful places Id been to on this Noisy, Noisy planet.

But three of the four people it killed out there were women, Collier had said to the lead Spackle. They didnt have Noise at all. And again, there was a rush of pity around her for her own lack of Noise.

And you all can just shut the hell up about that right now, shed snapped, her temper rising. I am afraid that probably only confused the Snowscape more, the lead Spackle showed. It is still an animal, after all, and your bodies are clearly much warmer than ours, easier to smell. It almost certainly did not know what sort of creature you were and if it heard you screaming and running but not speaking with a voice Why don you kill it?

Wilf asked. We do try, the Spackle showed, but showed nothing more.

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Still, I felt my fear lessen again, so much so that when Collier said, You sure as hell arent doing a very good job of it, I was embarrassed at her rudeness. Theyve got used to it, she said now. Thats whats happened. Theyve so neutered themselves with this removal of any fear or anger that they cant be bothered to kill it. Or maybe its symbiotic, Fukunaga said, turning to us. Sorry, Connie, Wilf said, thinking wed interrupted herprayers. She waved him off.

I was finished anyway. But Colliers right. Theres something they arent telling us, and I think it might be symbiosis. She looked at us in the low lumin escence, her eyes sad. They have a reason to practise a peaceful life, and the creature out there gives them more than one way to keep it peaceful. We were silent at that, before Collier finally said, Youmean But she didnt finish. Surely they cant all be this serene, Fukunaga said. Andthat thing out there needs to eat.

You don mean they sacrifice, Wilf said, do you? I tried to think about this, but my Noise felt muddled every time I approached it, some feeling telling me, no, it was all right, everything was all right. It was weird, contradictory. I felt good, but annoyed at how it got in the way. We havent seen any threat in their Noise, I said. You cant just accuse them Im not accusing, Fukunaga said.

And there wouldnt be threat, would there? Theyd feel sad about it, but then theyd remove that sadness. But Spackle arent like that, I insisted. Theyve been helpful to us all along the way. Theyre self-sufficient, remember? And if thats true, Fukunaga said, maybe theres a reason.

Maybe no other Spackle want them. Maybe theyve been cut off, Collier said. Youre making this up from nothing, I said. Something terrible has happened, but you cant let it Theyre lying to us, Dawson said, from the corner.

They dont think I can see it. But I can. She turned back around and faced the wall, resuming her humming. I think she might be right, Collier said.

The gaps in your Noise, the way they constantly block it by removing anything bad. At the very least, theres something they dont want us toknow. But its not sacrifice, I said. They saved us, remember? Yeah, Wilf said, slowly, and then again, yeah, thass true. He pulled his arms around himself. But I don like my Noise being taken without me offering it. He looked from Collier to Fukunaga. Leave first thing?

As soon as we can, Collier said, and Fukunaga nodded. I have to say, Mikkelsen said the next morning, that was the best nights sleep Ive ever had. He grinned. And I once slept for sixty-seven years. He was the only one whod got any sleep at all. The rest of us save Dawson, who still hummed distractedly in the corner had talked all night, coming to no real conclusion. There was an irony in that I, who had least cause to trust any Spackle after theyd taken my eyes from me, was the one who was defending them the most.

I could see that something was a bit weird here, but surely there must be other reasons why an enclave would be separate from the connected voice of the Spackle. Maybe it was sheer distance, maybe it was weather, maybe it was how theyd had to live. No one had an answer, but they were still set on leaving. Except, it seemed, Mikkelsen. What on earth is the hurry? These are fascinating people. He sat back on his bedding. Id like to stay. Collier said, suspicious.

Mikkelsens Noise didnt mean a short visit. It meant We came out here to explore, didnt we? Well, this is what explorers do. They meet new people. They find common ground. They work out their differences. But somethin ain right here, Wilf said. And youre choosing to ignore it because they make you feel good, Fukunaga said to Mikkelsen. Im a grown man, Connie, Mikkelsen said, frowning now. I can make my own decisions.

Decisions based on narcotized Noise, Collier said. Better than a decision based on fear, Mikkelsen said. The storm has cleared, a voice showed from way. The lead Spackle. The morning is bright. I no longer felt any kind of worry. I no longer wanted to argue with anyone. In fact, I could completely understand why Mikkelsen wanted to stay. What a glorious idea. These people, these wonderful people We need to get back to the ship, Collier said, firmly.

I turned in surprise, as if someone had thrown a glass of ice water over me. Even Wilfs Noise was startled. Collier and Fukunaga were watching us warily, the removal of fear obviously not working on someone without Noise.

Which turned out to be the thing that probably saved ourlives. I will show you the way, the Spackle told us.

Fattening us up to appease their god, Collier muttered. That is hateful, ethnocentric nonsense, Mikkelsen said back, but so happily it sounded almost deranged. I didnt know what to think. Neither, for once, did Wilf, which made me and I think Fukunaga and Collier even more unsettled. Dawson followed along behind us, still humming.

The lead Spackle brought us back to the opening, the warm goodbyes of the rest of the enclave following us. We got to the entrance, and the lead Spackle pushed at a slab of ice that swung open like a doorway. Brilliant, clear sun nearly blinded us, reflecting off the endless white horizon. Everyone put on their sun goggles immediately, and through their Noise my world darkened to a tolerable level, too.

There was white all around but in the distance, we could see the trees of the forest line. Our ship was just inside it somewhere. Our ticket home. Though wed be going home with four bodies, bodies wed need to collect on the way, a job not even Mikkelsen in his happy-time Noise was looking forwardto.

Well make our own way back, Collier said to the Spackle, her voice not angry but also not brooking any dis cussion. Thank you for all your kindness. But it is a good distance, the Spackle showed, surprised.

You can easily lose your way Collier held up a small pad. Tracking device.

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Well go right to our ship. I still dont see why we have to leave at all, Mikkelsen said, happily eating some of the dried meat wed been given. I should come with you for protection, the Spackle showed. The Snowscape does not usually attack in clear conditions, but I can help you calm your voices You cant help me calm mine, Collier said, frostily.

And frankly, Id just as soon take my chances. But They think youre offering us up for sacrifice or something, Mikkelsen said, his mouth full.

When any fool can see that its far too beautiful a day for anything like that tohappen. The Spackles Noise was shocked. You think we want todo what? To call the silence that followed awkward would be an understatement. Something you do here don affect us right, Wilf finally said. He pointed to Mikkelsen. Hes peaceful as a dove, and she he pointed at Collier is cranky as a wolf.

He frowned. They ain neither of them doves or wolves. We have found ways to live, the Spackle said, his Noise vibrating with a rare indignation. Ways we have honed over generations. Ways that give us a contented life, unmatched in any other part of the voice Yet not connected to it, Collier said. Almost as if you have something to hide. I am sorry, we are sorry, that our ways have affected you like this.

You are not The Spackle drew himself up. And you return our recognition to us with anger and suspicion and accusation and ingratitude. He went through the words, picking the vocabulary directly from our Noise, so they felt all the more accurate. Four of our crewmen are dead, Fukunaga said, her voice quieter, but in its own way as firm and scared as Collier.

Dawson was away from us, staring out towards the horizon but seeing who knew what, really, and Mikkelsen just kept eating his food, like a child over pudding. The fault for that does not lie with us, the Spackle said. The fault lies with you, for coming into our territory without knowing what dangers awaited you. No one had heard of you!

Collier practically shouted. No one knew you were here. Why was that exactly? I believe I have listened to enough Snows coming, Dawson murmured. We all looked. The sky to the north of us, out over the ice, was no longer blue.

Clouds were rushing in, like theyd done the day before, faster than a person could run. Which was when the roar came echoing out of the distantforest. You have called it, the Spackle showed.

With your anger Your anger, Collier said. It cant hear me, remember? But the Spackle had stopped listening. He closed his eyesand There was the feeling again.

The lightening of everything. Even my pang of terror on hearing the roar vanished as if it had been of utterly no importance whatsoever. Id never felt more at peace with anything in my life. Collier slapped me across the face. Snap out of it! Come on! Back inside! But the lead Spackle was already in the doorway of thetunnel.

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Blocking our way. You have made yourselves unwelcome, Iwill not allow the enclave to be put at risk. Youre stranding us out here? You have stranded yourselves, the Spackle showed, and there was so much surprising sadness in his Noise, we all hesitated for just the right amount of time for him to close the passageway to us.

She threw herself at the slab of ice, but there was no download, nothing to grab, nothing to do but pound against it, which had all the effect of pounding against a drift of snow.

She turned back to us, stunned. They locked us out. They left us out here. Mikkelsen shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. Well, thats what we get. Through Wilfs Noise which was as wrongly serene as mine felt I could see her ball her fists to get ready to punch him, but the roar came again, stopping us all. None of us is actin right, Wilf said. Their Noise thing did somethin to me and Lee and Mikkelsen, all right, but Im bettin its workin on you, too, in wrong ways.

Collier balled her fists again and again, and I could see her fighting with a rage out of proportion even to our situation, which was bad enough. We all need to clear our heads, Wilf continued. Member who we are.

The roar came again, somewhere at the border of the forest. We could see nothing, and perhaps it was going to wait in the cover of the trees, not wanting to come out on open ground. We need to get out of this place, Collier said. We need to never come back. Aye, Wilf said.

Fukunaga said, gently approaching Dawson and putting a hand on her back. Were going to have to go. Dawson just said, a tight smile on her face, Were not going to make it, are we?

Yes, Collier said, firmly. Yes, we are. I dont see what everyones so upset about, Mikkelsen said. You need to shut up, Collier said. Right now. Wilf took me by the arm, ready to guide me. Everyone together now, he said.

He looked towards the forest line as yet another roar came. We gotta monster to face. The ships that way, Collier said, pointing the tracker in the distance, bearing right. It was, if nothing else, slightly away from the roaring. Its inside the forest line.

The monster could easily get between us and the ship as we run but its our only shot. Agreed, Fukunaga said. Me, too, I said. We run. We stay close together as we can.

Collier nodded, giving Mikkelsen a look. A plan so simple even those not entirely with us can follow it. She took his arm. He seemed mildly amused at the proposition. Fukunaga did the same, gently, with Dawson. The roar came again, still deep in the forest, but getting closer. The clouds and wind were still pouring in from the north. Wed be under it in no time. A freezing storm on one side, a monster on the other.

Then Collier said, simply, Run. And we did. The wind picked up noticeably as we sped across the wintry plain. Wilfs Noise was nearly back to its normal self, and through him I could feel myself getting more and more afraid as what was happening to us stopped feeling like it was happening to someone else.

Dawson kept her head down and ran with Fukunaga, making no sounds, no complaints, even when she occasionally fell in the fresh snow that had fallen in the night. Only Mikkelsen, pulled along by Collier, was still oblivious. The most I got out of his Noise was a vague confusion as to why he was having to run so fast when nothing was wrong.

The roaring still rose from the forest, as if the monster knew we were coming which I suppose it must have and was just waiting for us to either cross the boundary of trees or for the storm to overtake us so it could come to us first. We have no weapons, Fukunaga said as we ran, and even though it was something we all knew, there was still a question to it.

No, Wilf answered, holding me up from where Id started to stumble. Two hundred metres to the ship, Collier called, ahead of us. Just keep going. As fast as you can. We had nearly reached the line of trees, the wind so strong now it almost seemed to be blowing us towards them. The roaring came again, so close it made my ears hurt. We arent going to make it, Dawson said, almost quietly. If we get separated, I said, someone needs to get to the ship and There it is! Fukunaga yelled. With an eagerness that knew how close we were to its grasp, the shadow that had killed Foster, Zhiang, Stubbs and Jefferson pushed apart two giant trees and stepped out of the forest before us.

And before the blowing storm swarmed over our vision, before the snow truly set in and swamped us We caught a glimpse of what it was. My God, Collier said, next to me. Because it wasnt a beast from the snow, covered in fur and fangs and claws.

It wasnt any kind of New World version of a bear or a tiger or even a dinosaur. It wasnt a dragon out of myth or an impossible ice creature made of snow and jagged frost, reaching out to rip your cold body to shreds.

It stood nearly five metres tall. But it had clearly been a Spackle, once. It looked old. Its skin had cracked and healed and cracked and healed so many times that its features were more like gnarled, ancient tree trunks than any sort of living creature. Everything about it was grotesquely stretched and bent, its skin a livid bluish-white against the cold, seeming to undulate at every nook and joint, like the flesh had a mind of its own against its massively overgrown skeleton.

Its face had the same Spackle eyes, high in its head, its nose clearly sniffing us out, like any predator could do to prey, its mouth a ravenous, toothfillednightmare. But none of that, not its size, not its strength, not the hands that would tear us apart, not the mouth that would eat us, none of that was as frightening as the Noise we could now clearly hear at quarters this close.

It buzzed tighter and more furiously than most Spackle Noise, much quieter, but no less intense for that. The opposite, in fact, as if instead of reaching out, every bit of its Noise had been bound tightly to it, pointing back inwards, so there could be no release.

It was shackled by it. The Spackle enclave had told us how dangerous it was. But they hadnt told us everything. The monsters Noise burned with rage, so potent and swirling it was like looking into the most despairing kind of madness, a madness that only felt hurt and pain, a madness that therefore could only act in hurt and pain, not just towards those of us whose Noise it could sense, but towards the women in our team, too, who it could smell but not hear, something that no doubt enraged it all the more, because they werent suffering the pain it clearly felt and had felt, every moment of every living day for who knew how many years or decades or even centuries.

Snowscape, Wilf whispered, as we all stood there for that instant, dumbstruck, taking it all in, the truth beginning to dawn. They didnt, Fukunaga said in a kind of horrified awe. They wouldnt. Mikkelsen said, stepping towards it, looking up into its terrifying face. Collier shouted, trying to hold him back, but Mikkelsen pressed on, pulling away from her.

Weve got to investigate this, he said. Ive never seen anything like it. Karl, Wilf said. Back away from it! There was a small terrified squeal behind us as Dawson tore away from Fukunaga and started running furiously again in the direction of the ship. Fukunaga ran after her Wilf was already pulling me away, too. Maggie, leave him if he won come! But we could see that Collier was torn.

The monster had yet to move, staring down in bafflement as the blissed-out Mikkelsen kept walking towards it, waving his arms. No, no, Mikkelsen was saying, its okay. Its okay. Everythings going to be okay. Karl, what are you doing? Collier shouted.

Mikkelsen turned to us. Cant you see its suffering? Karl I said Look, Wilf said. And we could all see it now, see what Wilf had meant when he said scapegoat. Mikkelsen stood there in front of the monster, unafraid. His own Noise had been the most affected by whatever process this Spackle enclave had developed over the years, and we could see that process still happening on himnow.

All his fear, all his natural terror, all his anger, too, and grief at what had happened to the others on our team. We could see it in his Noise. We could see it rising in his Noise. See it entering the Noise that bound the monster. And making those binds tighter. The Spackle enclave had bought themselves peace and harmony and serenity. But everything bought has to be paid for by somebody. One Spackle from among them, chosen who knew how or why, became the repository for every negative thing they felt, every bit of fury, every bit of heartache, every bit of fear.

They poured all of that into this one Spackle. Making it a monster. Twisting its body, bursting it from its normal size, forcing it to grow and grow on a diet of rage andpain. The Snowscape. Their scapegoat. Suffering so they didnt have to. And the worst thing about it was its confusion. Deep among the anger, it didnt know why it felt this way, why it suffered so.

It only knew despair and loneliness and confusion as it was forced to take in every bit of fear that Mikkelsen should be feeling as he stood before it.

Karl, Collier said again. But it was too late. The monster simply reached down with both of its giant hands and, in a single easy action, tore Mikkelsens head, shoulders and right arm from his body.

Collier screamed back to me and Wilf as we ran. We were each of us covered in the wave of blood that had sprayed from Mikkelsens body, so much that my grip on Wilf was slippery as we dashed through the trees. The storm had fully overtaken us now, the wind filled with angry snow.

Having spent a moment rendering Mikkelsen well beyond dead, the monster now chased after us, pushing its way through the trees, roaring in a rage that seemed to bend the very air around us.

Whatever process had doped Mikkelsen into a stupor had long since stopped working on me and Wilf. I could feel my own terror, and I could feel his. Collier shouted, and through the storm we could see the shadow of the ship.

There were no lights to be seen, nor was there any sign of Dawson and Fukunaga. I shouted to Wilf, as I felt myself slowing him down again. Go without me! I yelled, as a torn-up tree trunk flew over our heads, narrowly missing us, but bouncing off the rocks and knocking into him My blood-soaked grip slipped from his, and I fell over the rocks onto some compacted snow.

Wilf fell, too, landing hard. I went blind. Wilf had lost consciousness, and there was no one else with Noise nearby.

I could see nothing, just feel the wind slapping me in the darkness. I said. I heard the roar of the monster again, very close, and I instinctively backed up against the rocks wed just fallen over And then I realized I could see.

I said again. But it wasnt Wilf. I was seeing him sprawled on the ground, still not moving. I was seeing him from a height. He was a shape down there, a mark on the landscape, his unconscious Noise too faint for humans to read, but still there, still living.

Still needing destruction. I could see my own Noise, too, drifting up from where I hid. My point of view moved forward on the rock, and I could now see myself as the monster looked down on me, as the fear I was feeling spiralled up into it, feeding it more, causing it more rage, more pain, more isolation. And through its eyes, I saw its despair, saw a glimpse of how it had been chosen from the enclave, how it had protested, how it had been forced. How he had been forced. It had been a Spackle man once, much like any other, with a one in particular and a family, but it had lost a kind of terrible picking of lots and Its rage grew as it saw me read all this Its Noise went red with hatred It reached down towards me with those horrible, hideous claws to tear me to pieces A whistling rang through the air And in the last split second before the missile blew it to oblivion, I could have sworn I felt a final yelp of its relief.

Dawson fired it, Fukunaga said, tamping on the last bit of bandage to Wilfs injury. He was all right, conscious again Icould see through him once more but covered, like I was, in the rain of monster viscera that had come down where the missile struck. It killed my husband, Dawson whispered from a corner of the room we used as an infirmary. You did the right thing, Collier said to her in a gentle voice. It would have killed them, too. Killed all of us. It killed Henry, was all Dawson said again, turning away from us.

I think we need to be getting back to Haven, Fukunaga said. I think our exploration is done for now. Agreed, Collier said. We freed it, I said. I could feel it as it died. We freed it from all that pain. Maybe dont say that quite so loud, Collier said, nodding at Dawson. It couldnt help what it did, though, I whispered. They held him down.

They forced him to take on all the stuff theyno longer wanted to feel Probably why they cut themselves off from the rest of the Spackle, Collier said. Or were cut off, Fukunaga said, shaking her head. That kind of cruelty Theyre coming, Dawson said. She was watching the monitors for the outside. Through the storm, which was growing worse, we could see the infrared shapes of dozens, possibly hundreds, of Spackle approaching us.

I cant imagine theyre going to thank us, Collier said.

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We gave them back their rage, Fukunaga replied. Bes be gone afore they get a chance to use it, Wilf said. Collier nodded and left the infirmary. Within a minute, we could hear the engines starting up. Its windy as anything, she told us over the comm. Tie yourselves in, this is going to be a shake. She wasnt kidding.

The ship jerked and dipped as we took off, the infrared shapes of the Spackle watching us go; the ship dipping again as they fired on us with their acid weapons. Well be out of range in a few seconds, Collier said on the comm.

The Spackle grew smaller and smaller in the monitors as we flew up and away, and in a few moments more, the ship evened out as we broke through the cloud layer into the still night above.

Like that, we were gone. Leaving behind so much. It almost felt like a cheat. Theyll only find another, Wilf said, rubbing his head. Theyll do it again. Mikkelsen, Fukunaga said, quietly. Take it as a given, a sight so often seen it became invisible. There was so much happiness to be had there.

So much secret happiness. And yet, a sinking of the stomach, too. No, stop that. He was looking forward to it. In fact, think about— In fact, yes, that. Another stop sign. Blood is flowing places, he messaged.

Engorging things. The reply was two thumbs-up emojis. So consider Adam Thorn, as he pulls out onto the farther main road—wooded, naturally—the one that leads to the garden center, the one with ever-increasing traffic, even at this early hour on a Saturday.

Adam Thorn, born almost but not quite eighteen years ago in the hospital ten miles along this same road. Twelve more months, he thought, and the Yoke is off. Senior year started in just over a week. After that, the sky. For Adam Thorn wants to get away. Adam Thorn longs to leave, with an ache in his gut so acute it feels like vertigo.

Well, maybe he does. Adam Thorn. Blanched blond, tall, bulky in a way that might be handsome but is only just starting to properly agree with gravity. Adam Thorn, keeper of secrets. His phone rang as he pulled into the garden center. Why are you up? Especially after Katherine van Leuwen. She had always hung out with the meth heads and it was meth her boyfriend was amped up on when he killed her, raving about—of all things—goats, according to an equally methed witness.

When pizzas? Because, pizzas. You dirty boy. Then we could go straight to the party. I need to speak to you. And now chickens. Because, chickens. Darlington were unobtrusively decent, always good to Adam, always giving him an implicitly safe place to get away from those parents of his, even if they were too kind to say such a thing out loud.

He grinned. Until the end of the world. He got out of his car into the early morning sunshine. The lot was nearly full at a little past eight. Serious gardeners around here, getting ready for the approaching fall. He stopped a minute under the sky, only cleared of trees for the parking lot but still: open sky. He closed his eyes, felt the sun on his eyelids.Cassie Cons pinned post 7 Aug Ray Bradbury.

Over the generations, the Spackle in these parts had learned both how to hide from it physically, underneath the snow, but also in their Noise.

Thank you for all your kindness. These Spackle arent like any other Spackle weve met, and now your Noise is looking a bit liketheirs. David Mitchell.

We could see it in his Noise. Why did we go there? We all looked.

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