The Gift

Chapter 36

Whit

BEFORE I CAN REACH Wisty to try to help her escape, somebody hits me hard. Just about all the wind rushes out of me and my knees buckle. I'd probably fall on my face if the three of them weren't so busy trying to pin me to the wall. They're strong-they may look like boys, but they fight like adults. Adult professionals, maybe New Order soldiers.

I only hope I gave Wisty enough warning to help her get out; I only hope I managed to mess up their trap; I only -

Ooomf!

Another smashing blow, this one right to the middle of my face. Stars and bright colors explode everywhere. That couldn't have been a fist. It was too hard.

I'm starting to sink to the ground, but one of these creeps is holding me up and the other is turning my head by the ears, making me look at something.

"See that, Big Brother?" the voice in my ear rings. "Not only did you fail to save your little sister, but we're going to make you watch what the Council of Ones does to her!"

My eyes dart down the length of the diner to where Wisty is being dragged out of her booth by the Bionics and one of the soldiers.

And then, suddenly, the Bionics start-I don't know how to describe it-morphing, I guess. They get bigger and older, as if they've aged from seventeen to thirty-five in the space of a few seconds. It's scary-and gross beyond anything I can tell you in words.

They're burly, cigar-smoking soldiers now. All of them except one Bionic-the drummer, I think-who's still sitting in the booth, looking like he just accidentally ran over a puppy.

"Do it quickly, you idiots!" yells one of the thugs holding me.

I notice three more soldier-commandos in black flak outfits, each leveling big-bore rifles right at my sister.

"No!" I scream. "Leave her alone! Don't shoot her!"

They drop to a knee and pull their triggers almost in unison.

"Wisty!"

And then it's as if time has slowed to a crawl. I watch as the muzzles issue explosions of compressed gas, each propelling a lethal-looking dart at my inhumanly manhandled sister…

Wisty throws one last look at me and I catch it, hold on to it forever. More than anything, I don't want her to die with that desperate look of shame on her face.

I don't want her to die, period.

And then my mind seizes on the hurtling projectiles. Not bullets. Darts. I see the wicked hollow needles on the front of each fluffy-tailed syringe as it bullets toward my sister's torso.

They look big enough to drop a charging rhino, much less sedate a hundred-pound teenager.

If I just push the first dart's tail a little this way… and this dart a little this way… and this one just like this…

Thwok -

Thwok -

And thwok!

The former Bionics and the soldier holding her go wide-eyed as each dart finds its new target… right smack in the middle of each of their necks.

They hit the floor.

Thump.

Thump.

And THUMP.

"Unnh!" gasps my sister.

"What's wrong, Wist?" I yell. "What happened?"

My eyes lock on hers, which have gone wide and also a little vacant. And now her lids are fluttering… and she falls face-first right on top of her unconscious attackers.

There's a syringe sticking out of her back, the plunger pushed down.

The drummer!

He's standing behind her. His face is twisted and crumpled with guilt.

"Attaboy!" shouts the soldier who's been holding me. "Now let's get these two reprobates into the paddy wagon and collect our just rewards."