It doesn’t matter. They work for me.
“You killed Reece.” My mind flashed back on the bombing. “You hurt a lot of people in the mall. Grandmothers. Children. Some were injured badly. They were in pain.”
I had to demonstrate my power to you. They were just casualties of war.
“Whose war? You against everyone? Starters, Enders, everyone?”
Now you finally understand me.
I drove in silence. I couldn’t take him anymore. I didn’t want to hear his creepy voice in my head. After a while, I approached the cross streets he had given me. I was already there, in Hollywood, near the hills. My heart started beating faster. No, it couldn’t be. I thought somehow I’d find a way out of this.
Do I cause an accident? Run away?
Don’t try anything. Remember why you are doing this. For Michael and Tyler.
It was like he could read my mind—which of course he couldn’t. But he knew what he held over me.
“Which way?”
Up the hill.
I turned around the curve of the road and had to slam on my brakes.
A strange vehicle blocked my way. It looked like a cross between an SUV and a tank, and it was stopped in the middle of the narrow street, facing me. I couldn’t see the driver: the windows were tinted. The whole thing was steel gray.
“What is that?” I asked.
But before I could hear an answer, or do anything, the SUV door opened and a guy ran out. He wore black clothing, gloves, and a ski mask that covered his face.
I jammed my finger on the button and locked my doors. He held something shiny in his fist and aimed it at my car. CLICK. My doors unlocked.
What happened next came in flashes. Black clothing against my window—my door yanked open—a black bag thrown over my head.
Before I knew it, my hands were cuffed behind my back. I resisted as best I could, kicking and screaming, but the bag muffled my voice. It was hot and so heavy it had to be made of metal.
The man pulled me out of the car and carried me to what I figured was his SUV. I was tossed onto the seat. I heard the door slam, then footsteps, then him getting into the driver’s seat and shutting that door.
As the car started to move, I soon heard scraping. He must have been forcing his SUV past my car. It didn’t really matter anymore.
“Please take this bag off,” I said. “I can’t breathe.”
“Just hold on.”
I was surprised to discover his voice sounded really young, like my age. Like a Starter. It seemed strange the Old Man would send a Starter to get me.
We drove in silence. Of course the Old Man wouldn’t give me his address. He just wanted to get me close enough so he could be in charge. Take me someplace where I wouldn’t know the address—or maybe even the city.
I felt the driver reach over and tug at the Velcro at the base of the bag. He pulled the bag off my head. The tinted windows kept the car dark, but I saw that he had removed his ski mask. I could make out the outline of his face, his cheekbone, jawline. And those piercing eyes.
It was the Starter who had protected me from the explosion.
I’d never forget those eyes. He was good-looking in such an intense way, it almost scared me.
“Can you remove the cuffs now?” I asked.
“Not until I’m sure you understand.”
“Understand what?”
“That I’m not going to hurt you.”
“You pushed me out of the way just before the explosion.”
He didn’t deny it. It made no sense. First he saves my life; then he kidnaps me? Was he sent by the Old Man to retrieve me or not?
“My name’s Hyden.”
“Like the composer.”
“Just spelled differently.”
I noticed weapons of all types hugging the walls and ceiling. They fit into special slots, cut to accommodate them perfectly. A shiver ran up my back.
He pulled over to the curb but left the car running. “Lean forward.”
I hesitated, then cooperated.
“Don’t move.” He pulled out a knife.
He used it to cut through my plexi-cuffs. Managed to do it without even touching me.
While he was busy putting his knife away, I went right to my door handle to make my escape. But it was locked.
“Hey, you said you trusted me,” he said.
“I never said that. I said I understood you weren’t going to hurt me. Now open the door.”
“You really don’t want to go out there.”
“I have to go. If I don’t, my brother and a friend will be killed.”
“By the Old Man? He said that?”
“So you know who he is.”
I wondered if he was a Metal. I scanned his face. He looked perfect. Well, maybe not exactly. He had a few flaws, some tiny scars.
“I know who he is, how he thinks. I know exactly what he’s capable of. I know him better than anyone else.”