Read Online Hopscotch by Kevin J. Anderson - Free Book Online Page B

shelter inside buildings. As the Beetles came toward them, Garth watched in fascination as the terrorists scattered in a drunkard's-walk of changing directions to keep their moves from being predictable.
    One of the three, a redheaded woman, spotted a person in the crowd hiding under one of the vendor stands. The man raised his hand in a signal. The redhead rushed to him and bent down. Beneath the kiosk, the two clasped each other's temples, quickly locking eyes . . . swapping. Even at a distance, Garth noticed with a shock that neither had ID patches on their hands, only a small squarish scar. Seconds later, the redhead got up and ran in another direction, while the man quietly sauntered into one of the buildings and disappeared.
    Garth couldn't believe what he had just seen. “They hopscotched, the two of them! She had a contact in the crowd, and she got away.”
    Eduard chuckled. “Bait and switch! I bet she makes a clean break.”
    Another fugitive ran like a bull through the flower stands, knocking over buckets of long-stemmed roses, upending pots of marigolds. Teresa stood alone, still encumbered with the bouquets. The fugitive hissed in her face so forcefully that spittle flecked her cheeks. “Hopscotch with me! Now!”
    She looked up at the flushed man. “I . . . I can't. I'm not old enough.”
    Beetles ran toward them, shooting into the air and making a fearsome racket. The fugitive let out a snarl of despair and anger, then grabbed Teresa.
    Though Garth's mind raced for a way to save her, he couldn't move. He wanted to help, but he froze, completely helpless.
    But Eduard didn't stop to think about his own safety. Lowering his shoulder, he plowed into Teresa with enough force to rip her out of the fugitive's grasp. While the man cried out in surprise, Eduard bore Teresa down to the pavement, covering her with his body. The flowers flew around them in a blizzard of color, petals, and scents.
    The Beetles targeted the lone fugitive as he whirled, empty-handed, searching for another escape. The enforcers opened fire with a mixture of stun projectiles and deadly bullets. The terrorist flew backward, skidding across the ground. Blood poured from holes in his bland street shirt. Potent stunner-darts poked like bristles from his shoulders, sides, face.
    The Beetles marched to him, elbowing people away. They grabbed the dying man's collar, dragged him into a sitting position. “Where's Robertha Chambers?”
    “She's not me.” The man smiled in triumph with blood-flecked lips.
    “Who
is she?
Where
is she?”
    Snapping out of his shock, Garth rushed to help Eduard pull Teresa to her feet, and she clung to him. “She's all right.” Eduard cut off further conversation, already moving. “All of us are fine. Let's get out of here!” For now, the Beetles were too intent on their victim to question the crowd, but that wouldn't divert them for long.
    The three ducked into an office building, rode a lifter up four levels, and hurried across a promenade. From there, a moving walkway took them to where they could zigzag through a galleria filled with lights and music. Eduard kept glancing over his shoulder. “Walk slowly, casually. Don't draw any attention to yourself. We can't look like we're on the run.”
    “Why are
we
running?” Teresa asked. “We didn't do anything.”
    Garth understood immediately. “That man touched you, Teresa. They might think he swapped with you. That's how the redhead escaped.”
    Teresa looked at her ID patch as if it offered proof. “But I'm still me.”
    Eduard shook his head, worried about her. “Do you want your mind peeled just so the Beetles can prove your identity? It's what they do, you know.” Teresa shuddered.
    It was only when they reached the monastery that Garth realized they had not, after all, brought back the flowers Soft Stone had requested.
             
    Now, in the artists' bazaar, the beignet vendor went back to his pans, dropping globs of dough into hot oil. He