Chapter 5True Humans
May 26, 2259, early Thursday morning
A crow stares Quentin in the face, pulls at his hair, starts cawing loud enough to wake the dead…
Quentin jerked awake. The blue-grey pre-dawn light streamed in the half-open window. He pulled the quilt up; the early morning was cool. A large crow perched on the headboard of their bed, screaming, beating his wings. He wondered why there was no rooster doing the wake-up calls. He wasn’t surprised there were no clocks. The bird jumped down, pulled John-Caleb’s hair, screamed and flew up to a rafter over their heads. “Wake up, wake up, John-Caleb, what’s the crow want? Something’s wrong.”
“What—oh, the crow.” John-Caleb pushed himself up, and listened. The crow screamed again, and then flew out of the window, back, and screamed, an
