A hesitation. “I can’t … I can’t tell you. I’ll get in trouble.”

The kid’s quick breaths were audible even over the crackle of static.

“If they catch me with the phone, it’ll be bad.”

Evan listened to the kid’s articulation. Not a lisp. He closed his eyes, his brain still gummy from the sleeping gas. It took a moment, but he put it together. “Someone beat you up.”

“So what?” the kid said, his words blurry across a swollen lip. “I get beat up all the time. Please come. Please help me.”

“Where are you?”

“You should see how they keep us here. Like cattle, all lined up.”

“Where are you?” Evan asked again.

“Are you coming to get me?”

Evan looked around, the dead-bolted door, the caged balcony, the gas-breathing vent. He took stock. First: Escape. Second: Rescue Alison Siegler. Third: Help the kid.

“Soon,” Evan said.

“Then I don’t … Then I can’t risk saying yet.”

“Who else is there?”

“Other boys.”

“Where are you from?”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

“Do you have a family? Parents?”

“I don’t … I don’t know. It’s been so long.”

“How long have they kept you?” Evan asked. “How old were you when you were taken?”

“Oh, shit. I can’t—they’re coming. I’ll try ’n’ call back. Will you help me? Will you?”

“Yes. I will get to you.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

The broken phone cut out. Evan stared down at the shattered shards held together loosely in the cracked casing of the RoamZone.

He shoved the phone back into its hiding place and crawled into bed. He imagined Alison Siegler, locked in her container aboard a ship halfway around the globe. Did she have enough food? Enough air? He thought about a little boy also waiting for his help, his words blurred over a swollen mouth: You should see how they keep us here.

Evan’s blinks grew heavier.

Two dogs, ten guards, one sniper, Dex, and counting.

He’d have to kill a lot more of them tomorrow.

22. Divine Right

22

Divine Right

Propped on a brace of pillows on a regally upholstered gurney, René drew in a deep lungful of air as the needle sank beneath his flesh. This was his favorite moment, when the fix first flowed into his body and set the world quivering with potency. Everything turned vibrant, the colors saturated even down here in the bowels of the chalet. Every sensation felt enhanced—the oxygen in his lungs, the hum of adrenaline hurtling through his veins, the creamy sheets caressing his bare skin.

The rush hit his arteries, a surge that rocketed him to his feet. The catheter in his arm couldn’t slow him. He seized the IV pole and dragged it beside him, one stubborn wheel giving off a squeak.