UnWholly

Nelson doesn’t know that. He sees Co

Lev circles behind Nelson in shadows, giving him a wide berth, and makes his way closer to the danger zone, where riot police clash with armed AWOLs. This is where Co

When the answer comes to Lev, he grins in spite of the dire battle around him. The answer is simple. It’s terrifying. It’s impossible. It might work!

•   •   •

Lev nears the main aisle just as the Dreamliner begins to move and riot police advance on the crush of kids who never made it onboard.

A hundred yards away, on the failed front line, Lev sees a figure in off-color camouflage fearlessly charge a Juvey shooting at him. The kid takes the Juvey out—not with a bullet, but with the butt of his rifle—and there’s something about the way this kid moves that’s familiar.

Lev charges against a panic of escaping kids ru

The tumbling truck bursts into flames as the plane rises into the sky, and the light of the explosion illuminates the face of the kid in camouflage. Lev knows he’s found him.

“Co

But Co

“Co

Even when Co

“Lev? What are you doing here? What, has the whole world gone nuts, and I’ve lost my mind?”

“I’m sure both are true, but I’m really here.” Lev bends down and takes the tranq gun away from the cop Co

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!”

“That’s probably true too, but I have to warn you: There’s a parts pirate after you.”

“That’s the least of my problems right now!”

Another kid with an automatic rifle hurries up to Co

“Sticks and stones and airplane parts,” Co

“Freakin’ Starkey!” The kid drops his spent weapon. “Good luck, Co

Farther away, the mob that has been trying to get on the Dreamliner is now lit by the spotlight of a police helicopter and is fully surrounded. There are maybe four hundred kids corralled and helpless, while huge transport trucks roll down the main aisle to gather them and take them away.

“There’s nothing you can do for them now,” Lev tells Co

“I won’t leave them.”

“That’s why I’m not giving you a choice.” Then Lev raises the tranq pistol he took from the unconscious Juvey and shoots Co

Co

“It didn’t work, Lev,” he says weakly. “My plan didn’t work.”

“I know,” Lev tells him as Co

70 • Nelson

He has no idea how many kids are here, how deep the airplane graveyard goes, or where his target might be in the midst of the chaos. No matter. If the Juvies do their job, and it looks like they will, the whole nest of AWOLs will be rounded up, tranq’d, and yanked. Lassiter will be among them. Nelson just needs to keep his eyes open and his head low, because some of these kids have weapons, and by the sound of them, they’re deadly.

Methodically he checks the AWOLs who have already been tranq’d and takes down a few himself, just so he really looks like a Juvey-cop doing his job. He keeps a safe distance from the heart of the battle, knowing that the Akron AWOL will do the same.

One of the Juvey-cops spots him looking at the faces of the fallen AWOLs. “Don’t waste your time,” he says. “It’s our asses if any of these kids get past us and into the desert.”

“I’m looking for an AWOL neighbor kid,” Nelson tells him without missing a beat. “Favor for the wife.”

But the cop is suspicious. “Do I know you? What unit are you with?”

“Unit Sixteen, down from Phoenix.”

“There is no Unit Sixteen in Phoenix.”

Deciding this has gone quite far enough, Nelson tranqs him, then tranqs an escaping AWOL who saw him do it. Then gets back to the task of finding the Akron AWOL.

It’s only when he sees the Dreamliner taking off that he begins to worry. What are the chances that Lassiter’s on that plane? Then he realizes that the riot squad isn’t just tranq’ing and yanking—they’re going against procedure, loading the mob into the transport trucks conscious. If Lassiter gets loaded into a truck before Nelson can get to him, it’s over.

Now he’s worried. He moves closer to the riot roundup, pulling out binoculars, sca

“Crap!”

He knows that with every passing second his chances get slimmer. Around him, kids who were either too slow to get there or smart enough to stay away from the corralled mob race in all directions to escape. Some get tranq’d as they run, but the farther they are away from the main action, the better their chances.

Up ahead Nelson sees the dark silhouette of one smaller kid struggling to carry an older tranq’d kid on his back—reminding Nelson of the way ants will carry off their wounded. But apparently this kid has better sense than an ant, because he gives up, drops the bigger kid in the dust, and takes off into the shadows.

Nelson almost doesn’t check the dropped kid. He almost walks on past, because he doesn’t want to miss a single face ru

Nelson wastes no time. He hefts him onto his back, gets his bearings, and weaves through the aircraft, heading toward his waiting van. As he crosses an outer aisle, he’s spotted by another Juvey.

“Forget him,” the cop says. “Leave him for Sanitation and Transport. Our orders are to take out the bolters.” And to emphasize his point, he fires at a girl bolting between two fighter jets, tranqing her into the dust.

“Special orders on this one,” Nelson tells him, trying to get past, but the other cop won’t yield.

“Why? Is he the one who’s been starting the fires in town?”

“Yeah,” Nelson says. “He’s the one.”

Then behind them, three kids try to break for the outer aisles, and their attempted escape pulls the cop’s attention long enough for Nelson to get past him.

The farther from the main aisle, the fewer AWOLs, and the fewer cops. Transport trucks are already here on the outskirts, gathering whatever tranq’d kids they find before moving into the high-density zone. The San & Tran workers treat the fallen kids with much more care than the Juvies, zipping them into padded transport bags—constrictive sleeping bags in either powder blue or pink that cover everything but their faces, so that their precious parts are protected in transit.