other units to surround the block.”
An officer replied, “No others in the area.”
Nox had expected this to be an easy catch. He saw the drones, too. It would look bad for him to let the Governor’s donor get away live on the tele-screen.
He turned to Duncan, “Here, hold my gun, Starr.”
Duncan took Nox’s gun, and Nox grabbed Joan’s father.
“Help me get him over the railing,” Nox ordered the other officers. They threw him over the wrought iron railing of the balcony, so that he stood on the other side, facing the building and holding on to the railing for his life.
Nox shouted to Joan, “23, come back, or we’ll push him off.”
Joan looked up.
“No!” she shouted desperately.
“Up. Now!” Nox shouted, one of the few times he raised his voice on the job.
“No, Joan!” her father yelled. “Keep going!”
She looked down. The adjoining roof was so close. She looked back at her father.
“DON’T STOP!” Staffan screamed.
As her father yelled at her to continue, Nox screeched, “Come on. Come back up.”
The drones buzzed overhead. She had trouble thinking. She couldn’t do this. Her mother died because of her; she couldn’t let it happen to her father, too.
“Don’t hurt him. I’m coming,” she hollered, as she began climbing up the wall.
Just then, Staffan Lion roared, “NO, Joan!”
She didn’t look up at her father.
He was wrong about her
, she thought to herself. She wasn’t strong.
Staffan let go of the railing. Nox tried to grab him, but Staffan fought him off. Joan glanced up just in time to see her father falling. She watched him hit the ground.
“NO!” she screamed. She looked up, seething with fury. Nox leaned over the railing. Then, stepping in beside Nox was… Duncan! Her mouth dropped. He wore the dreaded black uniform. He was one of them. She couldn’t think about it now, so she quickly descended to the nearby roof.
While she ran across the roof, one of the officers shot a dart at her but missed by quite a distance.
Nox reached for his own gun but found his holster empty, “Starr, give me back my gun.”
Duncan handed it back to Nox, who turned to fire, but it was too late. Joan ran around the corner and off the next rooftop. She sprinted through the ghetto streets. Nox looked skyward as a news drone veered off, following her from above.
P ART II
Evader
11
J oan raced through the streets. After jogging a few minutes, she heard commotion behind. Two snatchers. She ducked inside the market. It was crowded.
Perfect.
Dodging easily in between the stalls and sellers, she made her way to the back door. Turning, she saw the snatchers caught in the crush of the store. The donors were not budging, and sellers “accidentally” pushed items in the way. She slipped out to the back alley.
She proceeded through dark alleyways for a few minutes, but a drone hovered above her. It found her. She glimpsed a raised walkway ahead, crossing the street and attaching two buildings. Underneath hid a sewer grate. She stopped under the walkway, out of sight of the drone, and forced up the grate. The odor made her wince.
People looked at her but did not react. They saw the drone and knew a donor ran for her life, and they didn’t want to give awayher position. They nonchalantly walked by her, ignoring her, as she struggled to live. It was eerie, as if she were invisible. The drone, which had continued on, realized it lost her and doubled back.
Taking a breath, she climbed into the sewer—into the pitch-dark blackness and the stink. She fumbled inside the backpack and found the flashlight. Using the limited light, she ran through the large pipe, slipping in the sewage. She had to bend over. After scurrying what she thought a safe distance, she stopped to rest and pulled out the map to get her bearings.
The tunnel surrounding her was a side tunnel, tunnel number nine. She followed it to the main tunnel. That tunnel was large enough for her to stand upright, and she ran
An officer replied, “No others in the area.”
Nox had expected this to be an easy catch. He saw the drones, too. It would look bad for him to let the Governor’s donor get away live on the tele-screen.
He turned to Duncan, “Here, hold my gun, Starr.”
Duncan took Nox’s gun, and Nox grabbed Joan’s father.
“Help me get him over the railing,” Nox ordered the other officers. They threw him over the wrought iron railing of the balcony, so that he stood on the other side, facing the building and holding on to the railing for his life.
Nox shouted to Joan, “23, come back, or we’ll push him off.”
Joan looked up.
“No!” she shouted desperately.
“Up. Now!” Nox shouted, one of the few times he raised his voice on the job.
“No, Joan!” her father yelled. “Keep going!”
She looked down. The adjoining roof was so close. She looked back at her father.
“DON’T STOP!” Staffan screamed.
As her father yelled at her to continue, Nox screeched, “Come on. Come back up.”
The drones buzzed overhead. She had trouble thinking. She couldn’t do this. Her mother died because of her; she couldn’t let it happen to her father, too.
“Don’t hurt him. I’m coming,” she hollered, as she began climbing up the wall.
Just then, Staffan Lion roared, “NO, Joan!”
She didn’t look up at her father.
He was wrong about her
, she thought to herself. She wasn’t strong.
Staffan let go of the railing. Nox tried to grab him, but Staffan fought him off. Joan glanced up just in time to see her father falling. She watched him hit the ground.
“NO!” she screamed. She looked up, seething with fury. Nox leaned over the railing. Then, stepping in beside Nox was… Duncan! Her mouth dropped. He wore the dreaded black uniform. He was one of them. She couldn’t think about it now, so she quickly descended to the nearby roof.
While she ran across the roof, one of the officers shot a dart at her but missed by quite a distance.
Nox reached for his own gun but found his holster empty, “Starr, give me back my gun.”
Duncan handed it back to Nox, who turned to fire, but it was too late. Joan ran around the corner and off the next rooftop. She sprinted through the ghetto streets. Nox looked skyward as a news drone veered off, following her from above.
P ART II
Evader
11
J oan raced through the streets. After jogging a few minutes, she heard commotion behind. Two snatchers. She ducked inside the market. It was crowded.
Perfect.
Dodging easily in between the stalls and sellers, she made her way to the back door. Turning, she saw the snatchers caught in the crush of the store. The donors were not budging, and sellers “accidentally” pushed items in the way. She slipped out to the back alley.
She proceeded through dark alleyways for a few minutes, but a drone hovered above her. It found her. She glimpsed a raised walkway ahead, crossing the street and attaching two buildings. Underneath hid a sewer grate. She stopped under the walkway, out of sight of the drone, and forced up the grate. The odor made her wince.
People looked at her but did not react. They saw the drone and knew a donor ran for her life, and they didn’t want to give awayher position. They nonchalantly walked by her, ignoring her, as she struggled to live. It was eerie, as if she were invisible. The drone, which had continued on, realized it lost her and doubled back.
Taking a breath, she climbed into the sewer—into the pitch-dark blackness and the stink. She fumbled inside the backpack and found the flashlight. Using the limited light, she ran through the large pipe, slipping in the sewage. She had to bend over. After scurrying what she thought a safe distance, she stopped to rest and pulled out the map to get her bearings.
The tunnel surrounding her was a side tunnel, tunnel number nine. She followed it to the main tunnel. That tunnel was large enough for her to stand upright, and she ran
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