Alas, beforeThe Warehousebecomes a blockbuster, readers will get a chance to dive into this dystopian world.
EW can exclusively debut the jacket forThe Warehouse, as well as an official excerpt.
Read on below.The Warehousepublishes Aug. 20 and isavailable for pre-order.
Credit: Anna Ty Bergman
The menu board on the wall inside promised homemade flavors.
Graham cracker and chocolate marshmallow and peanut butter fudge.
Paxton looked up and down the stretch of the main road.
Crown
It was so easy to imagine the street bustling with people.
All the life this place used to hold.
It was the kind of town that could inspire feelings of nostalgia on the first visit.
Now it was an echo fading in the white sunlight.
The window was hot to the touch where the sun hit it and coated in a layer of grit.
But he had reached the limit of his sadness when he stepped off the bus.
Just the act of being there was stretching his skin to bursting, like an overfilled balloon.
Forty-seven people had gotten off the bus.
Forty-seven people, not including him.
There was a wide range of ages and ethnicities.
Heavy-shouldered men with the callused hands of day laborers.
Stooped office workers grown soft from years of hunching at keyboards.
One girl couldnt have been more than seventeen.
Battered roller suitcases wobbling on uneven pavement.
Bags strapped to backs or slung over shoulders.
Everyone sweating from exertion.
The sun baked the top of his head.
It must have been well past a hundred degrees.
Sweat ran down Paxtons legs, pooling in his underarms, making his clothes stick.
Hopefully the processing center was close.
Hopefully it was cool.
He just wanted to be inside.
It had been cruel of the bus driver to drop them at the edge of town.
He was probably staying close to the interstate to conserve gas, but still.
The line ahead shifted, drifting to the right at the intersection.
Paxton dug in harder.
There were now more people ahead of him than behind.
The people around her stepped to the side, gave her room, but didnt stop.
She looked at him, barely nodded, and took off.
Youre welcome, he said, not loud enough for her to hear.
He checked behind him.
The people at the back were picking up the pace.
Walking with a renewed sense of effort, probably at the sight of someone going down to the ground.
There was blood in the air.
Paxton hitched the bag again and took off at a brisk pace, aiming hard for that corner.
He turned and found a large theater with a white marquee.
The stucco on the front of the building was crumbling to reveal patches of weather-worn brick.
Broken neon glass letters formed an uneven pattern along the top of the marquee.
Paxton followed the crowd toward the long row of open doors.
He pushed forward, nearly running the final few steps, aiming for the middle.
As he stepped through, more doors slammed behind him.
The sun disappeared and the cool air enveloped him and it felt like a kiss.
He shivered, looked back.
The first thing the man did was deflate.
Shoulders slumped, bag dropped to the ground.
Then the tension returned to his spine and he stepped forward, smacking his palm against the door.
He must have been wearing a ring because it made a sharp crack, like the glass might break.
Hey, he yelled, his voice muffled.
You cant do this.
I came all the way out here.
Crack, crack, crack.
A man in a gray shirt that saidRapidHireon the back in white letters approached the rejected applicant.
He placed a hand on the mans shoulder.
You have to want to work at Cloud.
You are free to apply again in one months time.
Paxon turned away from the scene.
He couldnt find more room for his own sadnesscertainly he couldnt muster space for anyone elses.
