Page 137 of Homebound
Gemma looked around seeing nothing out of the ordinary in this abandoned neighborhood. Except for the squeak of a metal panel that swayed in the wind, the only one that still clung to a dilapidated roof, no sound or movement disturbed the area.
But Simon was clearly hearing something she couldn’t.
When she looked at him, she knew her eyes reflected fear.
“Is it because of me? I am too slow?”
“They are relentless,” he deflected.
“Where is your big gun?”
“I left it at the prison. Ran out of ammo. ”
If Gemma had time to process the irony, she’d be the first to admit how much she, formerly a practicing pacifist, had grown fond of Simon’s big gun. Precisely for the damage it could do to many with only one discharge.
“Let’s hide and wait them out,” she suggested.
Simon cocked his head, listening.
“There’s no time. Come on.” He scooped her into his arms and broke into a run.
He had some stamina on him, and Gemma’s added weight didn’t seem to slow him down. They looped around the southern outskirts of the City, where Gemma had never been before, and where the desolation was even worse than around the prison. There were old abandoned cemeteries there. There were rats.
Simon weaved their way between fragmented buildings and decaying obelisks whose creep factor was enhanced to the n’s degree by the scuttle of rodents and the peculiar smell of bitter chemicals and decaying flesh. The junkyard was a hopping country fair compared to the desolation of the southern banks. If they died here, their bodies would not be discovered. Ever.
Occasionally, Simon would stop and scan their surroundings, and always there was an indication of the chase.
“The sweepers will be out soon,” Gemma commented morosely.
“I know.”
He stopped for good after they rounded another one of the millions of the corners they’d turned today, and set her to her feet.
“Simon,” she whispered. He was holding his wrist within her grasp, maintaining connection and silently communicating support. “Did you find the nitrogen?”
“I did,” he gently squeezed her hand in reassurance. “You did everything perfectly. I am so proud of you.”
“I was so afraid…”
“Fear is a natural reaction to danger, Gemma. It’s normal. But you didn’t let it overcome you. You stayed focused. Don’t give in now. Channel your fear.”
Gemma gazed in awe at his determined face. “Simon, I don’t think I can channel fear.” She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Just wanted to put it out there. Don’t get your expectations too high…”
He angled his head. “You’re doing fine.”
No, she wasn’t. All the running and shaking upset her head, and everything was wavering in the darkness. She felt very faint.
She sagged, and his hands grasped her waist, holding her up.
“I need a minute,” she mumbled, her head resting on his chest.
This is how Dr. Delano’s men found them. They emerged silently from the darkness and formed a tight circle around the two of them, their guns were pointed at Simon.
The circle parted briefly allowing Dr. Delano to walk through.
“How touching.”
A large man dressed in camo stepped closer and prodded Gemma with his weapon. “Hands up where I can see them.”
