ADVENTURE books online

Reading books adventure Nowadays a big variety of genres are exist. In our electronic library you can choose any book that suits your mood, request and purpose. This website is full of free ebooks. Reading online is very popular and become mainstream. This website can provoke you to be smarter than anyone. You can read between work breaks, in public transport, in cafes over a cup of coffee and cheesecake.
No matter where, but itā€™s important to read books in our elibrary , without registration.



Today let's analyze the genre adventure. Genre adventure is a reference book for adults and children. But it serve for adults and children in different purposes. If a boy or girl presents himself as a brave and courageous hero, doing noble deeds, then an adult with pleasure can be a little distracted from their daily worries.


A great interest to the reader is the adventure of a historical nature. For example, question: Ā«Who discovered America?Ā»
Today there are quite interesting descriptions of the adventures of Portuguese sailors, who visited this continent 20 years before Columbus.




It should be noted the different quality of literary works created in the genre of adventure. There is an understandable interest of generations of people in the classic adventure. At the same time, new works, which are created by contemporary authors, make classic works in the adventure genre quite worthy competition.
The close attention of readers to the genre of adventure is explained by the very essence of man, which involves constant movement, striving for something new, struggle and achievement of success. Adventure genre is very excited
Heroes of adventure books are always strong and brave. And we, off course, want to be like them. Unfortunately, book life is very different from real life.But that doesn't stop us from loving books even more.

Read books online Ā» Adventure Ā» Out of Time by Ryan Matthew Harker (uplifting books for women TXT) šŸ“–

Book online Ā«Out of Time by Ryan Matthew Harker (uplifting books for women TXT) šŸ“–Ā». Author Ryan Matthew Harker



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note, is he still past me if Iā€™m in the past too? Isnā€™t the past now the present? I donā€™t know.

Anyway, approximately fifty-three minutes from now my phone would tell me if it werenā€™t dead again! What the heck, I just charged it? I fish a plain, black plastic, rectangular cube out of my other pocket. WHAT THE HECK! Does this TRU thing only work when it wants to?

I touch the screen and nothing happens. I shake it, again nothing. Panic rears its ugly head just a bit and I shake the device even harder, gripping it with both hands as I do so. What makes me think I can go trip-trailing down the time stream? I so do not want to be stuck in the past, even if it is only two weeks ago! Itā€™s not like Iā€™d be able to have my own life with me already here living it.

Suddenly a dull glow blurs from my fists and I stop my jumping up and down and good thing too because my frantic dance is drawing the attention of the early morning traffic, pedestrian and otherwise. The last thing I wanna do is draw any attention while in possession of a time machine. Thank god itā€™s working now! So I wonder if the thing works on some kind of kinetic energy, itā€™s a possibility I suppose. Iā€™ve seen it with watches. Iā€™ll be sure to investigate this mystery later.

I take off in the direction of the track and barely make the bus I want. I wave the bus down as it careens away from the curb and it comes to a screeching halt. Winded from the light run I feed my money into the machine sitting next to the driver and take a seat. As the bus takes off again I stare out the window and contemplate my plan. I finally admit to myself that Iā€™m just a little bit out of my league here but itā€™s still not enough to stop me. I donā€™t know what Iā€™m going to do when I get to the track, Iā€™ll still have time to kill before I get there. Oh well Iā€™ve got a whole bus ride to figure it out.

My brain is a bowl of cold oatmeal and like a stuck spoon the only idea to penetrate its congealed surface is- Iā€™m going to have to confront my past self when he gets to the track. Another cardinal rule of time travel broken without qualm but who knows maybe Iā€™ll think of an alternative before then. I hope so ā€˜cause the bus is stopping and Iā€™ve only got another couple blocks to hoof it before Iā€™m there myself.

A cloud of black diesel smoke engulfs me and I cough a farewell to my old friend the bus. Once upon a time I was a full time public transit rider but my second job led to the acquisition of my automobile and itā€™s been some time since our paths have crossed. As the smoke clears a figure on the other side of the street becomes visible, a man and heā€™s clearly looking right at me. A chill goes up my spine and I begin walking down the sidewalk in the direction of the track. A glance to my left confirms I have a tail. Heā€™s wearing a long jacket and I think I see a rifle concealed within its shadows, a couple brief glimpses as he walks. Not waiting to see if he follows I duck into an alley and begin running to beat the wind. I donā€™t know who this guy is but he doesnā€™t look like any Hench Iā€™ve ever seen.

I donā€™t know what Iā€™m going to do. I donā€™t think I can go to the track now. This gunman knew exactly where Iā€™d be, how? I didnā€™t even know what I was going to do until this morning and thatā€™s two weeks from now! No matter, Iā€™ll think on the fly. I zigzag down streets and alleys, all the while maintaining a direction away from where I lost the gunman, away from the dog track and any chance I have of preventing things from going south between the bookie and I. The little voice in my head takes this opportunity to ask why Iā€™m running, I have a time machine. I dodge into another alley and skid to a stop.

Blazing bright incandescence bursts forth from TRUā€™s screen like a ray of light from God as I rip the device from my pocket. I press and scroll until the TRAVEL button lights up and press some more. I stretch and snap back and this time a car does hit me. THWACK! The bumper clips me and I go over the vehicleā€™s front quarter panel. I bounce off a dumpster and everything goes black.

 

How many times can you have a near death experience in a week? I think if I have many more Iā€™ll lose track! I wake up in a hospital room. Iā€™m semi-conscious, unsure of my surroundings, and definitely in need of some painkillersā€¦ OOH, I hurt! Wake up, wake up, all I have to do is wake up just a little more.

My vision defrosts slowly and I groggily survey the room through a sea of pain. A twitch in my left side as my head turns and suddenly itā€™s an ocean. Oh, this is no good. What am I supposed to do now? Whereā€™s TRU? Nausea from the combined pain of my body and my situation and, crippling pain or not, I bend over the bedrail to regurgitate noisily.

My pulse monitor slips off my finger and I flatline.

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEā€¦

The ā€˜Pā€™ doesnā€™t come but three nurses do, two women and a man. The man is in a state of panic. One of the women looks, of all things, bored! And, wait a minute; the other oneā€¦ the other one is Staci! Oh yeah, did I mention Staciā€™s a nurse.

I groan more from the fact that itā€™s Staci helping me sit upright than from the pain. And the worst part is it isnā€™t even Staci, itā€™s Staciā€™s past self. Hmm, it seems as a defense mechanism I refuse to think of these past incarnations as real people. Interesting on a psychological level but not a very appropriate tangent of thought for this particular situation, me thinks.

My head is once again engulfed in beautiful soft goose down and I try to concentrate on what Staci has to say but I canā€™t. ā€œThe paaiiin!ā€ I wail. Man I can be such a baby. Okay, maybe Iā€™m playing it up just a little but hey, I did just get hit by a car after all.

A syringe in my I.V., a surge of sunshine and my aches and pains fade to a dull roar. Man, Iā€™m tired. I slip back off to sleep.

My room slumbers but Iā€™m awake. I peer through the shadows and try to find the clock. I can hear it ticking but canā€™t see it. I chuckle softly, it seems time is my new obsession. But itā€™s dark and quiet and this leads me to believe that itā€™s night. Iā€™d like to know what time of night. Not for any real reason I realize, my body tells me itā€™ll be a couple days before itā€™s ready to leave. With this realization I close my eyes and let myself drift off.

When I awake once more Iā€™m in pain. Not the excruciating pain I felt the first time but itā€™s there. Looking around I donā€™t see any way in which to administer my own meds but I do see a button inscribed ā€œCALLā€ and I reach out slowly to press it. Yeah, the pain has definitely diminished somewhat. I retract my arm a bit quicker and wince, yeah, only somewhat.

My self-exam is cut short by the nearly silent whisper of the door followed by, ā€œOh Davey, youā€™re awake. How are you feeling? You look like youā€™re feeling better!ā€

I smile weakly. ā€œIā€™m in one piece anyway. How about gettingā€™ some more meds babe?ā€

Staciā€™s forehead scrunches up and concern fills her voice, ā€œPretty painful, huh? I bet it is.ā€ She moves around and pulls a syringe out of one of her pockets and smiles angelically. ā€œI thought you might need this, itā€™s been a while since your last one.ā€

ā€œHow long have I been here?ā€ I ask while she administers the syringe into my saline line. My euphoria returns but I donā€™t go out again.

ā€œAlmost forty-eight hours since the guy dropped you off. He was driving a Volvo, the guy who hit you, thatā€™s why Iā€™m not surprised youā€™re in pain. Volvoā€™s are tuff. He said you just appeared out of nowhere, can you believe it? I think everyone must say that.ā€ Staciā€™s laughter tinkles sweetly.

ā€œStace, whereā€™s my stuff?ā€

She stops mid chuckle and answers with a frown, ā€œOh, well they cut your clothes off but your shoes, wallet and everything else you had on you is right over here.ā€ She walks over and smoothly opens a drawer.

ā€œUm, will you hand me my phone?ā€ A shot in the dark.

ā€œSure,ā€ she removes my battered, little Samsung smart phone from the drawer. ā€œOh, itā€™s dead though.

Drat, my heart sinks.

ā€œNever mind then,ā€ I tell her and close my eyes in contemplation.

ā€œYou know when we had dinner last week I had no idea the next time I saw you would be here. I wish it wasnā€™t like this but isnā€™t it so weird how we keep running into each other?ā€

Whoa! Hit the brakes! ā€œLast week?ā€ I ask.

ā€œYes, silly, when we had dinner.ā€ She looks at me like Iā€™m touched in the head and all I can do is groan.

When Iā€™m using TRU to flee through time I need to pay more attention to the date before pressing TRAVEL. ā€œWe had dinner last week?ā€

ā€œYeah, du-uh.ā€

Last week would mean Iā€™m in the future, after I deliberately left for the past and after my run in with the Hench. Well then, I suppose this isnā€™t too bad. It seems I lost TRU but at least Iā€™m alive, and there are no extra meā€™s around to ruin my life. The Hench think Iā€™m dead, not necessarily a bad thing and even though Iā€™m broke as a joke I suppose I can somehow find a way to quietly leave town. This is gonna take some careful planning. Good thing Iā€™m laid up in a hospital bed with nothing better to do. I allow Staciā€™s voice to put me back to sleep.

 

A week later and Iā€™m being rolled out of the hospital in a wheelchair. Not by Staci, she has today off, but the green eyed brunette who has the shift is even more stunning. I swear, with all the tail Iā€™ve seen running around this place since Iā€™ve been here, it could be General Hospital.

After being inside for eight days the sun burns into my retinas and causes my eyelids to shut involuntarily. Man itā€™s a beautiful day! I carefully grunt my way free of the wheelchair and stand on my own two feet. Iā€™ve gotten pretty friendly with all the nurses here so green eyes gathers me up in a warm, pillowy hug farewell and returns to her duties at General Hospital. I canā€™t help but enjoy the view as she walks away and smiling, I face the street. First thingā€™s first, I need to find a bus.

I canā€™t help it; Iā€™ve made peace with being stuck in the (near) future but I have to know, if I can, what happened to TRU. The bus I want pulls up to the curb and I get on, ride it down to the next stop, get on that bus and take it within the vicinity of the alley where I was hit by the Volvo. Still aching from my accident I gingerly walk the final few blocks.

Tall brick buildings to either side, a scattering of tattered newspaper and old concert flyers, the usual city debris accumulated in its corners; the alley looks much the same as I last

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