The Gift

Chapter 93

Wisty

I am not much of a cowardly screamer by nature, but two tons of growling, pouncing ape-kids swarming into a tiny apartment with one barricaded exit definitely elicits a shriek from me that is totally bloodcurdling.

It actually startles the Kill Team for a split second, long enough for a pause in which Byron pipes another series of commands up at them.

Whit fairly hurls me into a corner of the room, then blocks the path to me with his body.

"Whit, that isn't going to work!"

And it sure doesn't. The fiends practically run over my poor brother, shouting in murderous glee. But they don't kill us. They hog-tie Whit and me, quickly, viciously.

And then in walks Byron Swain.

"Sorry about all the safety precautions, Wisty," says Byron. He checks the ropes on our arms and forces a gag into Whit's mouth. "But I can't have any more distractions while I make good on my commitment here. In case you think I'm not a decent fellow," he says as he turns and forces an oily-tasting rag into my mouth, too, "I should point out that I'm not going to have my friends here tear Whit apart in front of you, as instructed. Instead, I'll have both of you sent along to The One. I'm guessing he'll probably want to put you on the same weight-loss program as your parents. Then, as promised, on to the Allgood execution!"

He didn't really say that just now. There's no freaking way he really -

"Yes, sir. That's going to be one majorly popular execution-palooza." He goes right on talking. "I warned you, Wisty. I tried to stop this."

Okay, Byron, I think to myself. This is real simple. You leave me no choice. I'm just going to… EXPLODE.