René drew his head back, his chin doubling. His flush deepened, color seeping unevenly along the nipped-and-tucked lines of his face. Then his expression hardened, the vulnerability clamped behind a mask of controlled rage.

He walked across the barn, through the rolling door, and out into the blazing white. Evan was watching him fade into the lightly falling snow when another jolt of the collar cut his legs out from under him.

32. Ready

32

Ready

Evan sat cross-legged on the floor, his shoulders bowed. He hadn’t gotten the car jack. Without the car jack, he couldn’t break out of his room. If he couldn’t break out of his room, he couldn’t help Alison Siegler and the boy.

Evan was down to his last few hours.

He reminded himself how much he could get done in a few hours.

One way or another, he was getting out of this room. And out of this chalet. He would fight his way over the snowy peak of the mountain, leaving a trail of bright arterial blood in his wake.

A noise issued overhead, startling him from his thoughts. The hissing gas had come so much earlier than usual, the sun not yet kissing the western horizon. This was his punishment for laying René bare in the barn—to bed without dinner. René was done taking chances; he was going to knock Evan out and revive him at the deadline in a few hours to make the wire transfer.

Holding his breath, Evan rushed to the sliding glass door and threw it wide. He stepped outside, but the clean air quickly turned bitter, the gas being drawn through the open door. Rushing back inside, he lay on the bed and buried his face in a pillow.

His breathing grew heavy. A wave of grogginess came on. He fought to stay conscious. The hissing finally stopped, but he kept his face buried, waiting for the air to clear.

That’s when he felt the vibration.

The RoamZone beneath the mattress. The boy calling him.

Another vibration signaled the second ring.

Evan lifted his face. He could still taste the halogenated ether riding the back of his throat.

Third ring.

He rolled off the bed, his kneecaps banging the floorboards. Shoved an arm beneath the mattress. Came out with the wrecked RoamZone.

The high-power-density lithium-ion battery was still going strong. The kid’s number guttered across the cracked screen.

Just in time Evan thumbed the green icon and held the phone to his face. Somehow the circuit board held together. “Hello?”

“It’s me.” Same voice as before, but even more hushed.

The connection was bad, static fuzzing the line.

Evan swallowed hard. His head was swimming from the gas he’d inhaled, but he fought his thoughts back online. “Are you okay?”