wouldn’t be any witnesses to our deaths. I ran faster.
Jag passed me and swiped his stolen card across the gate reader. We squished through before it opened fully, and Jag tried to jam it while I sprinted toward the terraced crops in the Centrals. Curses and clangs caused me to glance over myshoulder. My hopes of losing anyone were dashed by the sight of Baldie running a few yards behind me and Jag still wrestling with the gate.
I made a sharp turn to my right, heading toward the imminent drop-off. I jumped at the last second, which made my landing that much harder. Rolling, rolling, I finally came to rest in a plot of bean plants. I didn’t have time to feel the pain throbbing in my spine.
From the bottom of the terrace, I saw Baldie—still at the top—swipe a large stick at Jag’s legs. I sprinted up the nonmoving stairs, both desperate and disgusted that I had to save him.
By the time I reached the top, Jag was kneeling with his hands laced behind his head. I sparked the taser, wondering if I had the guts to use it. The blue electricity caught Baldie’s attention, and Jag dove at him. I dashed forward as they wrestled. Jag threw Baldie off just before I discharged the taser into Baldie’s shoulder.
He screamed as he fell. Silence. A twitch, then he lay still. I stared at him, my stomach lurching. I may break rules, but I’m not violent. My chest tightened. The air around me evaporated.
“Vi, let’s go.” Jag pulled on my arm. I turned and ran. Very far to the west, across the rolling wheat and beans andgolden-tipped corn, the flames in the Fire Region created an orange horizon.
I started down the staircase first, only to hear a strangled grunt behind me. Then Jag smashed into me.
I’d never felt such pain, not even when the surgery skin had melted away my flesh. My head hit on the sharp corners of the steps, my back crunched against itself. Blood flooded my mouth and I gagged. Jag swore with every collision, and I would’ve joined him if my jaw didn’t feel splintered.
Above it all, the Hawk laughed. I finally stopped at the bottom of the staircase. Silver and black flashes swam in my vision. My head felt heavy and soft at the same time. I wanted to move, but couldn’t. Time slowed into breathing and pain.
“The taser.” The Hawk leaned over me. I managed to lift my head. Blood ran down my face, but at least I didn’t have to inhale the hot, coppery scent anymore.
Jag moaned but didn’t move. Blood covered most of his face, and his left sleeve was completely stained red.
“The taser,” the Hawk repeated, her hand outstretched. She towered over me, one step up on the staircase. Her silver hair shone in the moonlight.
Give her the taser,
the voice commanded.
You don’t need it.
My injuries made my attitude dormant, and I couldn’tmuster the energy to tell the Thinker that he had no right to tell me what I did and didn’t need.
But if I gave up the taser, Jag and I would end up like Baldie. Unconscious. Who knew where we’d wake up—if we woke at all. But I couldn’t use the taser again. Baldie’s scream still echoed in my ears. His vacant eyes . . .
Give her the taser,
the voice ordered again.
“Jag,” I pleaded. “Get off me.”
Using the sturdy metal stairs for support, he stood and wiped his bloody hands on his prison uniform. He watched me slowly extend the weapon toward the Hawk, understanding spreading through his eyes.
“No!” he yelled, hitting my arm. The taser flew in a magnificent arc into the terrace behind us. The Hawk swore and kicked Jag in the chest. He landed with a soft
thump
and didn’t attempt to get up again.
Anger surged through my desperation and pain. I shook Jag’s shoulder as the Hawk leaned over to inspect him.
“Vi, leave the bad boy. You’re a good girl. Your father would’ve wanted you to be free.” Her words sounded rehearsed, but she’d just given me the label I craved: free. But if being free meant leaving Jag, I couldn’t do
Jag passed me and swiped his stolen card across the gate reader. We squished through before it opened fully, and Jag tried to jam it while I sprinted toward the terraced crops in the Centrals. Curses and clangs caused me to glance over myshoulder. My hopes of losing anyone were dashed by the sight of Baldie running a few yards behind me and Jag still wrestling with the gate.
I made a sharp turn to my right, heading toward the imminent drop-off. I jumped at the last second, which made my landing that much harder. Rolling, rolling, I finally came to rest in a plot of bean plants. I didn’t have time to feel the pain throbbing in my spine.
From the bottom of the terrace, I saw Baldie—still at the top—swipe a large stick at Jag’s legs. I sprinted up the nonmoving stairs, both desperate and disgusted that I had to save him.
By the time I reached the top, Jag was kneeling with his hands laced behind his head. I sparked the taser, wondering if I had the guts to use it. The blue electricity caught Baldie’s attention, and Jag dove at him. I dashed forward as they wrestled. Jag threw Baldie off just before I discharged the taser into Baldie’s shoulder.
He screamed as he fell. Silence. A twitch, then he lay still. I stared at him, my stomach lurching. I may break rules, but I’m not violent. My chest tightened. The air around me evaporated.
“Vi, let’s go.” Jag pulled on my arm. I turned and ran. Very far to the west, across the rolling wheat and beans andgolden-tipped corn, the flames in the Fire Region created an orange horizon.
I started down the staircase first, only to hear a strangled grunt behind me. Then Jag smashed into me.
I’d never felt such pain, not even when the surgery skin had melted away my flesh. My head hit on the sharp corners of the steps, my back crunched against itself. Blood flooded my mouth and I gagged. Jag swore with every collision, and I would’ve joined him if my jaw didn’t feel splintered.
Above it all, the Hawk laughed. I finally stopped at the bottom of the staircase. Silver and black flashes swam in my vision. My head felt heavy and soft at the same time. I wanted to move, but couldn’t. Time slowed into breathing and pain.
“The taser.” The Hawk leaned over me. I managed to lift my head. Blood ran down my face, but at least I didn’t have to inhale the hot, coppery scent anymore.
Jag moaned but didn’t move. Blood covered most of his face, and his left sleeve was completely stained red.
“The taser,” the Hawk repeated, her hand outstretched. She towered over me, one step up on the staircase. Her silver hair shone in the moonlight.
Give her the taser,
the voice commanded.
You don’t need it.
My injuries made my attitude dormant, and I couldn’tmuster the energy to tell the Thinker that he had no right to tell me what I did and didn’t need.
But if I gave up the taser, Jag and I would end up like Baldie. Unconscious. Who knew where we’d wake up—if we woke at all. But I couldn’t use the taser again. Baldie’s scream still echoed in my ears. His vacant eyes . . .
Give her the taser,
the voice ordered again.
“Jag,” I pleaded. “Get off me.”
Using the sturdy metal stairs for support, he stood and wiped his bloody hands on his prison uniform. He watched me slowly extend the weapon toward the Hawk, understanding spreading through his eyes.
“No!” he yelled, hitting my arm. The taser flew in a magnificent arc into the terrace behind us. The Hawk swore and kicked Jag in the chest. He landed with a soft
thump
and didn’t attempt to get up again.
Anger surged through my desperation and pain. I shook Jag’s shoulder as the Hawk leaned over to inspect him.
“Vi, leave the bad boy. You’re a good girl. Your father would’ve wanted you to be free.” Her words sounded rehearsed, but she’d just given me the label I craved: free. But if being free meant leaving Jag, I couldn’t do
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