Last Message (Seven (the series))
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Adam has a good life in Buffalo: great parents, a cute girlfriend, adequate grades. He's not the best at anything, but he's not the worst either. He secretly lusts after Vanessa, the hottest girl in school, and when his dead grandfather's will stipulates that he go on a mission to France, Adam figures he might just have a chance to impress Vanessa and change his life from good to great. When he gets to France, he discovers he has not one but three near-impossible tasks before him. He also discovers a dark and shameful episode from his grandfather's past, something Adam is supposed to make amends for. But how can he do that when he barely speaks the language and his tasks become more and more dangerous? Despite the odds, Adam finds a way to fulfill his grandfather's wishes and, in the process, become worthy of bearing his name.
Adam's adventures start in Separated, part of The Seven Prequels and continue in Double You, part of The Seven Sequels.
complaining more too. At first there were just a few comments; then things got louder and all hell broke loose. They really gave it to the lawyer about “not going anywhere.” The parents didn’t help. As they tried to calm their kids, they muttered a few things about this not making sense. But not my parents: Mom and Dad were the only ones who didn’t offer any sort of protest. They were often the best-behaved people in any room, and usually the best-looking too. It really ticked me off. I wished
just west of the Rhone Valley. The main highway went up that valley from Arles and Avignon to the city of Lyon. Finally, I found the Ardèche River, and then followed it west from the Rhone and there it was: the village or town of Vallon-Pont-d’Arc. There were no caves marked on the map, but I noticed that on the way to the town there was a large green-colored park with a river running through it, labeled Réserve Naturelle des Gorges de l’Ardèche. I could also see from the map’s topography that
little cave to the side of the walkway and spent a few moments talking with him. Soon he unlocked the big container, drew out strange-looking shoes and foot-wide square lights attached to battery packs on belts, handed them out and then let the whole party by. When they had gone, he trudged down the path, right by me, obviously on his way back to the buildings. Luckily, he didn’t spot me. The group grew silent as they neared the main cave at the end of the wooden walkway. Even the blond man
was a strong man and very sweaty and, of course, almost naked. I decided to give him a little “shake ’n’ bake,” which is what our number-one running back on the McKinley High Minutemen calls a move he makes on linebackers when he gets them one-on-one in open field. I gave Mermoz a little feint with my head, shoulders and hips, then spun around, putting my back to him, in order to slip by on the path. But he seemed to be blessed with some athletic ability too, because he didn’t go for the move, at
Vincent Van Gogh. That was what was hanging in that pigpen in Arles. “Holy crap!” Mom and Dad both turned around and looked at me. She even took her hands off the steering wheel for a moment. I glanced up at them, muttered “Sorry” and then went back to the letter and continued to read. The Noels were about as ignorant of the world as a young family could be in 1944. They had no running water, no electricity, and had certainly never been anywhere near an art gallery. My mind began to race.