by Zoe Chant
She stood up, careful to lift from her legs, not her back. He weighed even more than she’d imagined. Her knees cracked audibly, and she staggered.
“Easy.” He laid a steadying hand on her forearm. “Find your center of gravity and settle into it.”
“Thanks,” she gasped, regaining her balance. “Which way?”
“Forward. I’ll tell you when we get there.”
She took a step forward, trying not to pitch forward under his weight. Her breath burned in her lungs, and her back and legs and neck ached. She didn’t feel like she could make it five more steps, let alone an entire city block. But her other choice was dragging him over the sidewalk and maybe making his injuries worse. She took another step, and then another one.
Another step. Another.
A quarter of a block.
Her face felt hot and swollen with blood. Her back was on fire.
Another step. Another.
Half a block. Catalina felt like she was about to pass out. She could see nothing but a red haze.
“You’re strong,” he said quietly.
Hearing that from a PJ— hearing it from this man, in particular— gave her strength.
Another step.
He suddenly whipped his arm out like he was slapping something out of the air. The shift in weight nearly knocked her off her feet. As she staggered, trying to regain her balance, she saw some tiny object rolling across the sidewalk.
“Put me down and run!” he said sharply.
“No!” A pain like a needle jab pricked her arm. “Ow!”
Everything spun around her, and she hit the ground hard. Catalina couldn’t so much as twitch. When she tried to speak, she found that not even her lips would move. But now she was close enough to the ground to see the tiny object on the sidewalk: a tranquilizer dart. Another one was still embedded in her arm.
The PJ dragged himself on top of her and shielded her with his body.
“Last stand,” he muttered. “Funny how by the time it comes to that, you’re never actually standing.”
Then he glanced down at her open eyes. “Oh. Didn’t realize you were still conscious. Last stand for me, I mean. I’ll make sure it isn’t yours.”
He laid his palm down on her back. It was warm. Comforting.
Catalina’s vision kept blurring and the PJ was blocking her line of sight, but she could see some figures approaching them.
“The woman’s a civilian,” the PJ said. His voice carried on the still air, but his tone was calm as if he was having a perfectly normal conversation. “Just an ordinary good Samaritan. Leave her here. She doesn’t know anything. I didn’t even tell her my name.”
Another man’s voice spoke. If the PJ was cool, this man was ice cold. “We know. We’ve been observing from a distance. And we’ve seen some fascinating things. Her resistance to your power— her general lack of fear— even her physical strength. We’re certainly not leaving her. She’s the perfect subject for 2.0.”
There was a brief silence. Then all of the hazy figures flinched back. One let out a hoarse scream of sheer terror, then spun around and ran away. A moment later, two more followed him, stumbling and arms flailing, apparently caught in the grip of total panic.
The man with the cold voice spoke again. “I’m impressed. My operatives all underwent intensive fear-resistance training. However, I anticipated that you might get to some of them anyway. That’s why I brought as many men as I did. The three I have left should be more than enough to deal with one partially paralyzed, unarmed renegade.”
The PJ replied coolly, “Send them over, and we’ll see about that.”
“It would be interesting to see what you can manage in that state. However, in the interest of expediting this, I think I’ll just give you another dose.”
There was snap of fingers, then a faint whump of compressed air. Catalina felt the PJ whip around. His hand brushed against her shoulder as he yanked something from his side and threw it back. One of the figures yelped in pain. Then the PJ gave a long sigh and slumped down on top of her. His breathing was even and deep, his hair soft against her cheek.
The figures moved forward, coming closer and closer. Catalina blinked hard, trying to clear her vision. The name on the building in front of her swam into view. She’d collapsed right in front of Protection, Inc.
Too bad no one’s home, she thought dizzily. Right now, we could really use a bodyguard.
Everything went black.
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