Read Online Halfskin by Tony Bertauski - Free Book Online

spinning.
    Special colors just for you.
    Nix made it to his bed and lay down without looking suspicious. Cali told him on the last visit that Avery was working on a special drawing. He knew something was coming. Intuition told him to smell it.
    Something embedded in the colors.
    His sister was a genius. She spiked the drawing with something—probably a new breed of biomites, ones that eluded the ring’s effect. Nix could feel them spread out in his head like cold webbing. If the guards suspected something, they would already be in his cell.
    She discovered something new.
    Something undetectable.
    Nix lay back and closed his eyes. For the first time in a long time, since the day that ring went around his neck, he smelled the ocean.
     
     
     
     
    11
     
    Cali wiped her eyes with a tissue. It was the first time she'd teared up during a visitation. She cried when they took her little brother from the house, but not since. Not ever. She'd never allowed herself to feel those emotions, but the thought of her little brother coming home was just too real.
    It got to her.
    It probably didn't hurt her performance. It would be completely expected, probably bored all the people watching.
    She walked out without a word from any of them. She stopped outside the final door. The sun was overhead. Nix didn't see that very much, at least not on his own terms. That's what he always requested of his niece to draw for him: suns. Draw me something yellow, he would say.
    Cali peeked through the back of the car. Avery was laid out on the seat, eyes closed. Cali closed the door behind her quietly so she wouldn't wake the angel. She stopped herself from giving her daughter a hug, giving her the good news.
    Uncle Nix will be home soon.
     
     
     
     
    12
     
    The head of the table was empty. Marcus entered.
    The other chairs were filled with children. His wife, Janine, was seated at the other end. Her head was bowed. He could tell when she was thinking. Always thinking. Never here. Always somewhere in her head, combing through facts, through paperwork and scenarios. A lawyer's work never rested. Not for good ones , she would say.
    The children had their hands on their laps, heads slightly bowed. They weren't thinking of clients and affidavits. Only dinner.
    Marcus sat down. "Let us pray."
    Their heads bowed deeper.
    "Bless us, O' Lord, and these Thy gifts which we are about to receive from Thy bounty. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen."
    The clinking of china was preceded by signs of the Cross—Father, Son, Holy Ghost. Ariel moved into action and helped the children spoon sauce over their noodles. Marcus smoothed a cloth napkin over his lap and watched that no one put their elbows on the table. All the napkins were in place. His wife was on her second glass of wine.
    Pick battles.
    He began eating. The dinner proceeded as it had every night, in relative quiet. Nothing but the tink-tink and the occasional slurp. Not too many. They were kids, after all.
    Marcus twirled noodles on his fork and, before filling his mouth, pointed at the empty seat he hadn't noticed. "Where's Andrew?"
    "Fever and a sore throat, sir." Ariel filled Janine's water glass.
    Marcus chewed carefully and spoke again once he swallowed. "Is he getting clear liquids?"
    "Yes, sir."
    Another bite. Swallow. "Have you given him herbal tea for the sore throat?"
    "Yes, sir," Ariel said.
    "It helped a lot, sir," Margaret, the new part-time nanny said. "He fell right to sleep when he was finished."
    Marcus nodded, thoughtfully. He wasn’t thrilled with another nanny, even part-time. But his job had him away from home more often and Janine was too busy playing lawyer.
    Janine asked the children how their day at school was and how they were feeling. No one felt the least bit sick, although someone puked in William's class after recess. He started to describe the smell when he was cut off. He managed to say chunks of meat before his name was called. Sternly.
    "You know, my sister's son, he's