Read Online Witch & Wizard by James Patterson, Gabrielle Charbonnet - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: James Patterson, Gabrielle Charbonnet
Tags: FIC002000
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Maybe we were going to get a sliver of our humanity back.
After a not-so-tender good-bye from the Matron came a fast ride in a grungy van that had the coppery smell of blood, and maybe the scent of something that very scared animals do.
“You’re shivering,” said Whit. He gently kissed the top of my head. The fact is that we had always loved each other, but we’d quarreled over the most petty and ridiculous things. No more.
Life,
as the wiser-than-you-might-think saying goes,
is too short.
Plus, it seemed so obvious to me now: Whit was a great brother. I wished that it wouldn’t have taken a New Order hellhole to prove that one to me.
The van screeched to a stop, and we were yanked outside. We entered a tall building and were suddenly surrounded by stark, monochromatic New Order normalcy: bright lights, a court hallway, regular-looking New Order people wearing neat, boring New Order clothes, cell phones ringing with the same preprogrammed, single-note tones. Pictures of The One Who Is The One were everywhere. And black-on-red N.O. signs were on all the walls. It made our prison days and nights seem just a little more bearable. At least we’d been missing
this
crap.
Whit put his face close to mine, and he whispered, “If we get a chance, we run! We join hands and run. And don’t look back, no matter what.”
A guard threw open an ornately carved door, and…
We were back in that awful courtroom. And there was Judge Ezekiel Unger, looking like Death’s first and favorite cousin.
“The One Who Judges!” announced a simpering New Order lackey.
As if maybe we’d forgotten what the big creep looked like.
This time there was no hating jury, no mocking audience. Just The One Who Judges, the armed guards, and…
the Visitor.
I groaned to myself when I saw him. He’d probably brought us up on charges for improper toilet cleaning, or pail spilling in the Hallway of Mad Dogs.
Judge Unger was reading a thick report, sparing only a quick, disgusted glance at us before turning another page and reading on.
“Wisteria Allgood,” the judge said at last, raising his lifeless eyes to me. “Whitford Allgood.” Somehow, he managed to make the word “good” in our names sound like evil itself. “I trust you’re enjoying your stay at the Hospital?”
“Fantastic!” I said—couldn’t resist. “Five stars.”
“I have here your medical reports,” he went on, ignoring me completely, waving the thick document as if it weighed nothing at all. His eyes were lasered on us. “Your tests have come back…
normal.
Every single test!”
My heart gave a little leap. Thank God! This had all been a terrible, terrible mistake. Now we would be returned to our parents and go home. The nightmare was finally over.
“I want to know right this instant,” the judge continued, “whom you bribed. Was it him? Was it the Visitor? I suspect it was him.”
Wisty
“BRIBED?”
WHIT CHOKED OUT, and I thought the top of his head might blow off and start spinning around. At this point I could say honestly,
stranger things have happened.
“The Visitor?!” I said. “You’ve got nothing to fear there—trust me, he’s a loyal and worthy sadist.”
“Of course you bribed someone!” the judge yelled. “
Normal?
You’re the farthest thing from normal there is! Depraved is not normal. Deceitful is not normal. Dangerous to society is not normal.”
Whit was very close to the edge. “And completely
insane
is not normal either! What could we bribe anyone
with?
Gruel? Mice droppings? Beauty tips from that freaky Matron?”
Judge Unger’s face flushed almost purple with fury. “You don’t ask the questions, pretty boy,” he said, spewing wrath the way Italian fountains spurt water. “You answer the questions! Now, for the last time,
who was it?
I know it wasn’t the Matron. She’s my beloved sister.”
There’s a shocker,
I thought wearily, and made a mental note not to make any more Matron jokes today.
“And,” he
After a not-so-tender good-bye from the Matron came a fast ride in a grungy van that had the coppery smell of blood, and maybe the scent of something that very scared animals do.
“You’re shivering,” said Whit. He gently kissed the top of my head. The fact is that we had always loved each other, but we’d quarreled over the most petty and ridiculous things. No more.
Life,
as the wiser-than-you-might-think saying goes,
is too short.
Plus, it seemed so obvious to me now: Whit was a great brother. I wished that it wouldn’t have taken a New Order hellhole to prove that one to me.
The van screeched to a stop, and we were yanked outside. We entered a tall building and were suddenly surrounded by stark, monochromatic New Order normalcy: bright lights, a court hallway, regular-looking New Order people wearing neat, boring New Order clothes, cell phones ringing with the same preprogrammed, single-note tones. Pictures of The One Who Is The One were everywhere. And black-on-red N.O. signs were on all the walls. It made our prison days and nights seem just a little more bearable. At least we’d been missing
this
crap.
Whit put his face close to mine, and he whispered, “If we get a chance, we run! We join hands and run. And don’t look back, no matter what.”
A guard threw open an ornately carved door, and…
We were back in that awful courtroom. And there was Judge Ezekiel Unger, looking like Death’s first and favorite cousin.
“The One Who Judges!” announced a simpering New Order lackey.
As if maybe we’d forgotten what the big creep looked like.
This time there was no hating jury, no mocking audience. Just The One Who Judges, the armed guards, and…
the Visitor.
I groaned to myself when I saw him. He’d probably brought us up on charges for improper toilet cleaning, or pail spilling in the Hallway of Mad Dogs.
Judge Unger was reading a thick report, sparing only a quick, disgusted glance at us before turning another page and reading on.
“Wisteria Allgood,” the judge said at last, raising his lifeless eyes to me. “Whitford Allgood.” Somehow, he managed to make the word “good” in our names sound like evil itself. “I trust you’re enjoying your stay at the Hospital?”
“Fantastic!” I said—couldn’t resist. “Five stars.”
“I have here your medical reports,” he went on, ignoring me completely, waving the thick document as if it weighed nothing at all. His eyes were lasered on us. “Your tests have come back…
normal.
Every single test!”
My heart gave a little leap. Thank God! This had all been a terrible, terrible mistake. Now we would be returned to our parents and go home. The nightmare was finally over.
“I want to know right this instant,” the judge continued, “whom you bribed. Was it him? Was it the Visitor? I suspect it was him.”
Wisty
“BRIBED?”
WHIT CHOKED OUT, and I thought the top of his head might blow off and start spinning around. At this point I could say honestly,
stranger things have happened.
“The Visitor?!” I said. “You’ve got nothing to fear there—trust me, he’s a loyal and worthy sadist.”
“Of course you bribed someone!” the judge yelled. “
Normal?
You’re the farthest thing from normal there is! Depraved is not normal. Deceitful is not normal. Dangerous to society is not normal.”
Whit was very close to the edge. “And completely
insane
is not normal either! What could we bribe anyone
with?
Gruel? Mice droppings? Beauty tips from that freaky Matron?”
Judge Unger’s face flushed almost purple with fury. “You don’t ask the questions, pretty boy,” he said, spewing wrath the way Italian fountains spurt water. “You answer the questions! Now, for the last time,
who was it?
I know it wasn’t the Matron. She’s my beloved sister.”
There’s a shocker,
I thought wearily, and made a mental note not to make any more Matron jokes today.
“And,” he
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