Thunderhead (2) (Arc of a Scythe) - Shusterman, Neal Review & Synopsis

Synopsis Rowan and Citra take opposite stances on the morality of the Scythedom, putting them at odds, in the chilling sequel to the Printz Honor Book Scythe from New York Times bestseller Neal Shusterman, author of the Unwind dystology. The Thunderhead cannot interfere in the affairs of the Scythedom. All it can do is observe-it does not like what it sees. A year has passed since Rowan had gone off grid. Since then, he has become an urban legend, a vigilante snuffing out corrupt scythes in a trial by fire. His story is told in whispers across the continent. As Scythe Anastasia, Citra gleans with compassion and openly challenges the ideals of the "new order." But when her life is threatened and her methods questioned, it becomes clear that not everyone is open to the change. Will the Thunderhead intervene? Or will it simply watch as this perfect world begins to unravel? Review Neal Shusterman is the New York Times bestselling author of more than thirty award-winning books for children, teens, and adults, including The Unwind Dystology, The Skinjacker trilogy, Downsiders, and Challenger Deep, which won the National Book Award. Scythe, the first book in his newest series Arc of a Scythe, is a Michael L. Printz Honor Book. He also writes screenplays for motion pictures and television shows. The father of four children, Neal lives in California. Visit him at Storyman.com and Facebook.com/NealShusterman.Thunderhead 1 Lullaby Peach velvet with embroidered baby-blue trim. Honorable Scythe Brahms loved his robe. True, the velvet became uncomfortably hot in the summer months, but it was something he had grown accustomed to in his sixty-three years as a scythe. He had recently turned the corner again, resetting his physical age back to a spry twenty-five-and now, in his third youth, he found his appetite for gleaning was stronger than ever. His routine was always the same, though methods varied. He would choose his subject, restrain him or her, then play a lullaby-Brahms's lullaby to be exact-the most famous piece of music composed by his Patron Historic. ?After all, if a scythe must choose a figure from history to name oneself after, shouldn't that figure be integrated somehow into the scythe's life? He would play the lullaby on whatever instrument was convenient, and if there was none available, he would simply hum it. And then he would end the subject's life. Politically, he leaned toward the teachings of the late Scythe Goddard, for he enjoyed gleaning immensely and saw no reason why that should be a problem for anyone. "In a perfect world, shouldn't we all enjoy what we do?" Goddard wrote. It was a sentiment gaining traction in more and more regional scythedoms. On this evening, Scythe Brahms had just accomplished a particularly entertaining gleaning in downtown Omaha, and was still whistling his signature tune as he sauntered down the street, wondering where he might find himself a late evening meal. But he stopped in midstanza, having a distinct feeling that he was being watched. There were, of course, cameras on every light post in the city. The Thunderhead was ever vigilant-but for a scythe, its slumberless, unblinking eyes were of no concern. It was powerless to even comment on the comings and goings of scythes, much less act upon anything it saw. The Thunderhead was the ultimate voyeur of death. This feeling, however, was more than the observational nature of the Thunderhead. Scythes were trained in perceptive skills. They were not prescient, but five highly developed senses could often have the semblance of a sixth. A scent, a sound, an errant shadow too minor to register consciously might be enough to make a well-trained scythe's neck hairs bristle. Scythe Brahms turned, sniffed, listened. He took in his surroundings. He was alone on a side street. Elsewhere, he could hear the sounds of street caf�s and the ever-vibrant nightlife of the city, but the street he was on was lined with shops that were shuttered this time of night. Cleaners and clothiers. A hardware store and a day-care center. The lonely street belonged to him and the unseen interloper. "Come out," he said. "I know you're there." He thought it might be a child, or perhaps an unsavory hoping to bargain for immunity-as if an unsavory might have anything with which to bargain. Maybe it was a Tonist. Tone cults despised scythes, and although Brahms had never heard of ?Tonists actually attacking a scythe, they had been known to torment. "I won't harm you," Brahms said. "I've just completed a gleaning-I have no desire to increase my tally today." Although, admittedly, he might change his mind if the interloper was either too offensive, or obsequious. Still, no one stepped forward. "Fine," he said. "Be gone then, I have neither time nor patience for a game of hide-and-seek." Perhaps it was his imagination after all. Maybe his rejuvenated senses were now so acute that they were responding to stimuli that were much farther away than he assumed. That's when a figure launched from behind a parked car as if it had been spring-loaded. Brahms was knocked off balance-he would have been taken down entirely if he still had the slow reflexes of an older man and not his twenty-five-year-old self. He pushed the figure into a wall, and considered pulling out his blades to glean this reprobate, but Scythe Brahms had never been a brave man. So he ran. He moved in and out of pools of light created by the street lamps; all the while cameras atop each pole swiveled to watch him. When he turned to look, the figure was a good twenty yards behind him. Now Brahms could see he was dressed in a black robe. Was it a scythe's robe? No, it couldn't be. No scythe dressed in black-it was not allowed. But there were rumors. . . . That thought made him pick up the pace. He could feel adrenaline tingling in his fingers, and adding urgent velocity to his heart. A scythe in black. No, there had to be another explanation. He would report this to the Irregularity Committee, that's what he would do. ?Yes, they might laugh at him and say he was scared off by a masquerading unsavory, but these things needed to be reported, even if they were embarrassing. It was his civic duty. A block farther and his assailant had given up the chase. He was nowhere to be seen. Scythe Brahms slowed his pace. He was nearing a more active part of the city now. The beat of dance music and the garble of conversation careened down the street toward him, giving him a sense of security. He let his guard down. Which was a mistake. The dark figure broadsided him from a narrow alley and delivered a knuckle punch to his windpipe. As Brahms gasped for air, his attacker kicked his legs out from under him in a Bokator kick-that brutal martial art in which scythes were trained. Brahms landed on a crate of rotting cabbage left by the side of a market. It burst, spewing forth a thick methane reek. His breath could only come in short gasps, and he could feel warmth spreading throughout his body as his pain nanites released opiates. No! Not yet! I must not be numbed. I need my full faculties to fight this miscreant. But pain nanites were simple missionaries of relief, hearing only the scream of angry nerve endings. ?They ignored his wishes and deadened his pain. Brahms tried to rise, but slipped as the putrid vegetation crushed beneath him, becoming a slick, unpleasant stew. The figure in black was on top of him now, pinning him to the ground. Brahms tried to reach into his robe for his weapons, but could not. So instead he reached up, and pulled back his attacker's black hood, revealing him to be a young man-barely a man-a boy. His eyes were intense, and intent on-to use a mortal-age word-murder. "Scythe Johannes Brahms, you are accused of abusing your position and multiple crimes against humanity." "How dare you!" Brahms gasped. "Who are you to accuse me?" He struggled, trying to rally his strength, but it was no use. The painkillers that were in his system were dulling his responses. His muscles were weak and useless to him now. "I think you know who I am," the young man said. "Let me hear you say it." "I will not!" Brahms said, determined not to give him the satisfaction. But the boy in black jammed a knee so powerfully into Brahms's chest that he thought his heart would stop. More pain nanites. More opiates. Brahms's head was swimming. He had no choice but to comply. "Lucifer," he gasped. "Scythe Lucifer." Brahms felt his spirit crumble-as if saying it aloud gave resonance to the rumor. Satisfied, the self-proclaimed young scythe eased the pressure. "You are no scythe," Brahms dared to say. "You are nothing but a failed apprentice, and you will not get away with this." The young man had no response to that. Instead, he said, "Tonight, you gleaned a young woman by blade." "That is my business, not yours!" "You gleaned her as a favor for a friend who wanted out of a relationship with her." "This is outrageous! You have no proof of that!" "I've been watching you, Johannes," Rowan said. "As well as your friend-who seemed awfully relieved when that poor woman was gleaned." Suddenly, there was a knife at Brahms's neck. His own knife. This beast of a boy was threatening him with his own knife. "Do you admit it?" he asked Brahms. All that he said was true, but Brahms would rather be rendered deadish than admit it to the likes of a failed apprentice. Even one with a knife at his throat. "Go on, slit my throat," Brahms dared. "It will add one more inexcusable crime to your record. And when I am revived, I will stand as witness against you-and make no mistake, you will be brought to justice!" "By whom? By the Thunderhead? I've taken down corrupt scythes from one coast to the other over the past year, and the Thunderhead hasn't sent so much as a single peace officer to stop me. Why do you think that is?" Brahms was speechless. He had assumed if he stalled long enough, and kept this so-called Scythe Lucifer occupied, the Thunderhead would dispatch a full squad to apprehend him. That's what the Thunderhead did when common citizens threatened violence. Brahms was surprised it had even gone this far. Such bad behavior among the general population was supposed to be a thing of the past. Why was this being allowed? "If I take your life now," the false scythe said, "you would not be brought back to life. I burn those I remove from service, leaving nothing but unrevivable ash." "I don't believe you! You wouldn't dare!" But Brahms did believe him. Since last January, nearly a dozen scythes across three Merican regions had been consumed by flames under questionable circumstances. Their deaths were all ruled accidental, but clearly they were not. And because they were burned, their deaths were permanent. Now Brahms knew that the whispered tales of Scythe Lucifer-the outrageous acts of Rowan Damisch, the fallen apprentice-were all true. Brahms closed his eyes and took in a final breath, trying not to gag on the rancid stench of putrid cabbage. And then Rowan said, "You won't be dying today, Scythe Brahms. Not even temporarily." He removed the blade from Brahms's neck. "I'm giving you one chance. If you act with the nobility befitting a scythe, and glean with honor, you won't see me again. But if you continue to serve your own corrupt appetites, then you will be left as ash." And then he was gone, almost as if he had vanished-and in his place was a horrified young couple looking down upon Brahms. "Is that a scythe?" "Quick, help me get him up!" They lifted Brahms from the rot. His peach velvet robe was stained green and brown, as if covered in mucus. It was humiliating. He considered gleaning the couple-for no one should see a scythe so indisposed and live-but instead held out his hand and allowed them to kiss his ring, thereby granting both of them a year of immunity from gleaning. He told them it was a reward for their kindness, but really it was just to make them go away and abandon any questions they might have had. After they left, he brushed himself off and resolved to say nothing to the Irregularity Committee about this, because it would leave him open to far too much ridicule and derision. He had suffered enough indignation already. Scythe Lucifer indeed! Few things were more miserable in this world than a failed scythe's apprentice, and never had there been one as ignoble as Rowan Damisch. Yet he knew that the boy's threat was not an idle one. Perhaps, thought Scythe Brahms, a lower profile was in order. A return to the lackluster gleanings he had been trained to perform in his youth. A refocusing on the basics that would make "Honorable Scythe" more than just a title, but a defining trait. Stained, bruised, and bitter, Scythe Brahms returned to his home to reconsider his place in the perfect world in which he lived. Thunderhead Rowan and Citra take opposite stances on the morality of the Scythedom, putting them at odds, in the chilling sequel to the Printz Honor Book Scythe from New York Times bestseller Neal Shusterman, author of the Unwind dystology. The Thunderhead cannot interfere in the affairs of the Scythedom. All it can do is observe—it does not like what it sees. A year has passed since Rowan had gone off grid. Since then, he has become an urban legend, a vigilante snuffing out corrupt scythes in a trial by fire. His story is told in whispers across the continent. As Scythe Anastasia, Citra gleans with compassion and openly challenges the ideals of the “new order.” But when her life is threatened and her methods questioned, it becomes clear that not everyone is open to the change. Will the Thunderhead intervene? Or will it simply watch as this perfect world begins to unravel? Rowan and Citra take opposite stances on the morality of the Scythedom, putting them at odds, in the chilling sequel to the Printz Honor Book Scythe from New York Times bestseller Neal Shusterman, author of the Unwind dystology." The Toll In the highly anticipated finale to the New York Times bestselling trilogy, dictators, prophets, and tensions rise. In a world that’s conquered death, will humanity finally be torn asunder by the immortal beings it created? Citra and Rowan have disappeared. Endura is gone. It seems like nothing stands between Scythe Goddard and absolute dominion over the world scythedom. With the silence of the Thunderhead and the reverberations of the Great Resonance still shaking the earth to its core, the question remains: Is there anyone left who can stop him? The answer lies in the Tone, the Toll, and the Thunder. With the silence of the Thunderhead and the reverberations of the Great Resonance still shaking the earth to its core, the question remains: Is there anyone left who can stop him? The answer lies in the Tone, the Toll, and the Thunder." Persekutuan misterius Benedict dan dilema sang tawanan Reynie, Sticky, Kate dan Constance tinggal bersama di sebuah rumah dengan penjagaan yang sangat ketat. Mr Curtain yang jahat, musuh bebuyutan mereka, akan melakukan apa pun untuk menguasai dunia dan merebut kembali sang Pembisik, senjata maut buatannya yang selama ini ada di tangan Mr Benedict. Reynie, Sticky, Kate dan Constance tinggal bersama di sebuah rumah dengan penjagaan yang sangat ketat." UnWholly "Thanks to Connor, Lev, and Risa, and their high-profile revolt at Happy Jack Harvest Camp, people can no longer turn a blind eye to unwinding. Ridding society of troublesome teens and, in the same stroke, providing much-needed tissues for transplant might be convenient, but its morality has finally been brought into question. However, unwinding has become big business, and there are powerful political and corporate interests that want to see it not only continue, but expand, allowing the unwinding of prisoners and the impoverished. Cam is a teen who does not exist. He is made entirely out of the parts of other unwinds. Cam, a 21st century Frankenstein, struggles with a search for identity and meaning, as well as the concept of his own soul, if indeed a rewound being can have one. When a sadistic bounty hunter who takes "trophies" from the unwinds he captures starts to pursue Connor, Risa and Lev, Cam finds his fate inextricably bound with theirs"-- Also by Neal Shusterman Visit the author at storyman.com and Facebook.com/NealShusterman NEAL SHUSTERMAN ... ( with Jarrod Shusterman ) The Skinjacker Trilogy Everlost Everwild Everfound The Arc of a Scythe Trilogy Scythe Thunderhead The ..." Unwind The first twisted and futuristic novel in the perennially popular New York Times bestselling Unwind dystology by Neal Shusterman. In America after the Second Civil War, the Pro-Choice and Pro-Life armies came to an agreement: The Bill of Life states that human life may not be touched from the moment of conception until a child reaches the age of thirteen. Between the ages of thirteen and eighteen, however, a parent may choose to retroactively get rid of a child through a process called "unwinding." Unwinding ensures that the child's life doesn't "technically" end by transplanting all the organs in the child's body to various recipients. Now a common and accepted practice in society, troublesome or unwanted teens are able to easily be unwound. With breathtaking suspense, this book follows three teens who all become runaway Unwinds: Connor, a rebel whose parents have ordered his unwinding; Risa, a ward of the state who is to be unwound due to cost-cutting; and Lev, his parents' tenth child whose unwinding has been planned since birth as a religious tithing. As their paths intersect and lives hang in the balance, Shusterman examines complex moral issues that will keep readers turning the pages until the very end. Also by Neal Shusterman Visit the author at storyman.com and Facebook.com/NealShusterman NEAL SHUSTERMAN UNWIND BOOK 1 ... The Shadow Club Speeding Bullet Dry ( with Jarrod Shusterman ) The Arc of a Scythe Trilogy Scythe Thunderhead The ..." UnDivided The fate of America hangs in the balance in the fourth and final book in the New York Times bestselling Unwind Dystology series by Neal Shusterman. Cam was only the start of Proactive Citizenry’s plans for rewound teens. The corrupt company is planning to mass-produce rewound teen soldiers, and to keep their profitable plans from being interrupted, they’ve been suppressing technology that could make unwinding completely unnecessary. When Conner, Risa, and Lev uncover these startling secrets, enraged teens march on Washington to demand justice and a better future. But more trouble is brewing. Starkey’s group of storked teens is growing more powerful and militant with each new recruit. And if they have their way, they’ll burn the harvest camps to the ground and put every adult in them before a firing squad. Can the persecuted teens get the justice they deserve without dooming America to a divided and violent future? Also by Neal Shusterman Visit the author at storyman.com and Facebook.com/NealShusterman NEAL SHUSTERMAN ... ( with Jarrod Shusterman ) The Skinjacker Trilogy Everlost Everwild Everfound The Arc of a Scythe Trilogy Scythe Thunderhead The ..." UnBound A collection of stories about Connor, Risa, and Lev after they have destroyed the Proactive Citizenry and are, apparently, free to live in a peaceful future. Also by Neal Shusterman Visit the author at storyman.com and Facebook.com/NealShusterman NEAL SHUSTERMAN UNBOUND ... Shusterman ) The Skinjacker Trilogy Everlost Everwild Everfound The Arc of a Scythe Trilogy Scythe Thunderhead The Toll ..." Dry “The authors do not hold back.” —Booklist (starred review) “The palpable desperation that pervades the plot…feels true, giving it a chilling air of inevitability.” —Publishers Weekly (starred review) “The Shustermans challenge readers.” —School Library Journal (starred review) “No one does doom like Neal Shusterman.” —Kirkus Reviews (starred review) When the California drought escalates to catastrophic proportions, one teen is forced to make life and death decisions for her family in this harrowing story of survival from New York Times bestselling author Neal Shusterman and Jarrod Shusterman. The drought—or the Tap-Out, as everyone calls it—has been going on for a while now. Everyone’s lives have become an endless list of don’ts: don’t water the lawn, don’t fill up your pool, don’t take long showers. Until the taps run dry. Suddenly, Alyssa’s quiet suburban street spirals into a warzone of desperation; neighbors and families turned against each other on the hunt for water. And when her parents don’t return and her life—and the life of her brother—is threatened, Alyssa has to make impossible choices if she’s going to survive. Neal . Shusterman . DRY NEAL SHUSTERMAN and JARROD SHUSTERMAN NEW YORK LONDON TORONTO ... Shadow Club The Shadow Club Rising Speeding Bullet The Skinjacker Trilogy Everlost Everwild Everfound The Arc of a Scythe Trilogy Scythe Thunderhead ..." Critical Digital Literacies: Boundary-Crossing Practices In this volume, contributors advance the theories and praxis of Critical Digital Literacies. Aimed at literacy, teacher education, and English Education practitioners, this volume explores critical practices with digital tools, with a pronounced focus on social justice. Course curriculum included two young adult novels as a platform through which to examine the development and self-reflection of participants' Critical Digital Literacies: Scythe (2016), the first book in Neal Shusterman's Arc of a ..."