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http://www.arkwolf.com/caillechsite/index.html
This is the
standard disclaimer. They don't belong to me. This story is not intended to
violate any copyrights held by Paramount, UPN, or Pet Fly Productions.
Author’s Notes: Thank You to Spacepixell for beta-ing this story.
Warning:
This story contains mention of corporal punishment.
~*~*~*~
Chapter 4
Blair had never seen anyone plunge into the shield.
The booming, crackling pop of the force field as it enveloped the sentinel sent Blair’s hands involuntarily to cover his ears. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away from the momentary bright flash of shimmering purple light.
When he opened his eyes a moment later, the sentinel was sprawled on the ground a few yards away, motionless. The Panther squad was a few yards beyond the sentinel, on the other side of the shield, pacing and shouting. The shield was still sizzling noisily, and rippling with waves of glittering flecks of blue, pink, silver and yellow as it settled, garbling their words and distorting their movements.
Ignoring the frantic motions of the sentinel’s teammates, Blair dashed to the Badge’s side and dropped to his knees. The tag buzzed annoyingly, prickling at Blair’s nerve endings, unnecessarily alerting the guide to the sentinel’s distress.
Blair stared at the sentinel, wondering if the man was dead, scared out of his wits that he was responsible. Just then, the sentinel grunted in pain and looked up at Blair, before passing out.
Blair breathed a sigh of relief and his fearful apprehension of being the cause of the sentinel’s predicament quickly reverted to outright annoyance at the whole situation.
Cussing and huffing, Blair worked his arms under the sentinel’s torso and manhandled him roughly onto his back.
“Stupid, pig-headed, muffin-brained, skeezy sentinel,” Blair groused as he fumbled with Jim’s vest, releasing the clasps. He pushed the heavy material aside and leaned over, pressing his ear against Jim’s chest. He heard a steady heartbeat and felt the gentle rise and fall of Jim’s diaphragm as air passed unhindered through Jim’s lungs.
“Right then,” Blair assessed as he straightened slightly. “What else?”
He pried one of Jim’s eyelids open and quickly let go when he saw only the white. He rubbed his palms over his thighs and licked his lips before trying again. This time, he held the lid open for several seconds, and the pupil slid into view, dilating reactively to the invasion of light.
Blair tapped Jim’s cheeks lightly. “Sentinel?’ he whispered.
For a moment, he considered slapping Jim’s cheeks really hard, just for the satisfaction it would bring him, but then decided he didn’t really care if the sentinel came to any time soon. In fact, it was to Blair’s advantage if he didn’t. With any luck, the sentinel would be out long enough for Blair to skeddadle off to his howdy-do with Ezekiel.
Blair leaned back, resting his butt on the heels of his feet, while he considered what to do next. He immediately jumped to his feet and started rubbing his backside furiously, cursing profusely, and stomped away from Jim’s side.
As he did so, the collar wrapped itself tighter around Blair’s neck and began vibrating softly. At the same instant, his birthmark started to itch. Blair suddenly realized the sentinel was not unconscious. He may have been, at least for a second or two, but he wasn’t any more.
He was zoned.
The passage through the shield must have overloaded every single one of the sentinel’s senses. The link through the tag tried to open itself more, to let the guide know what needed to be done, but Blair shut it out.
He walked back over to Jim and rummaged through the Badge’s pack.
“Serves you right,” Blair grumbled as he rifled through Jim’s things, tossing disparaging looks at the sentinel as he worked. He continued muttering unflattering remarks about sentinels and Badges, as he extracted a bottle of water and some nutrition bars. He set the items next to Jim, within easy reach, and then dropped the pack nearby.
Blair walked over to the shield and took his first good look at the men who made up the sentinel’s team. Two nights earlier, back at his dozer, he’d been too pre-occupied with dealing with the sentinel to pay much attention to the Badge’s posse.
“Wha ell hiss happ en,” Joel’s voice stumbled through the shield as he pointed excitedly at Jim.
After the disruption of zapping Jim through the shield, it would probably take longer than usual for the distortions to fade, Blair thought, as he grasped what Joel was saying.
For a few more moments, Blair studied the worried faces of the three men who took turns anxiously glancing between Jim, Blair and each other.
“He’s all right,” Blair yelled, but it was obvious by the confused looks on the faces staring at him that his voice was as distorted as Joel’s had been.
Blair waved a hand toward the sentinel and then signaled that he was all right by touching the forefinger and thumb of his right hand in an ‘OK’ gesture. Then he shrugged noncommittally and folded his hands, as if in prayer, and laid his cheek against them, closing his eyes. He thought it better to indicate the Badge was out, rather than zoned, though he wasn’t sure how he would have managed to convey that anyway.
Joel gestured impatiently at the air in front of him, and then tapped his watch pointedly, obviously inquiring when the shield would open again.
Blair grimaced and his eyes widened as he held up both his hands, fingers splayed. Then he fisted his hands for a moment and repeated the gesture. He fisted them once more before holding up just four fingers. He mouthed the words ‘twenty four hours’ as he gestured. The incredulous, displeased looks and agitated movements of the three men across from him indicated they understood the message.
The youngest of the three men took a few steps back and gave Blair a sympathetic grin as the other two continued to pace back and forth, clearly arguing about what to do.
Blair frowned, puzzled by the look, and then turned. He scooted past Jim, grabbed his pack, hefted it up onto his shoulder and walked away, heading into the Zone, ignoring the muffled shouts and wild arm waving of H and Joel.
The familiar track leading to the rendezvous point spilled out in front of him as Blair jogged along. Eager to put as much distance between himself and the sentinel as possible, Blair kept up a steady pace. He’d gone maybe a half-mile when the collar around his neck once again began to tighten, as it had earlier, when he’d left the sentinel’s side.
Blair slowed for a moment and reached for his neck, working a finger under the thin strip encasing his throat. The fit seemed the same as the last time he’d tested it. He gave it another tug, making sure he had plenty of breathing room and then took off again. He took two steps and was yanked to a halt. The collar pinched his neck, nearly choking him, and it felt as if he was on the end of a taut leash. He tried to take another step, but he staggered and fell to his knees.
“Ezekiel’s Balls and Nyloc’s Ghost!” Blair yelled into the air. He fell forward and pounded his fists on the ground. His breath came in short, heavy pants as he slowly realized the damn tag was programmed with a fetter.
Blair dragged himself to his feet and doggedly spun around, until he was facing the direction from which he’d just come. He shuffled forward sluggishly, and with each step the pressure around his neck lightened.
Blair returned to where the sentinel still lay, unmoving, and he immediately noticed the Panther squad eying him warily. That is, two of them had their eyes trained on him, the youngest one just raised his eyebrows questioningly, as if not believing Blair had come back.
Blair waved an irritated, one-fingered greeting at the three men.
He walked straight up to Jim and once again dropped to his knees next to the listless man.
“Sentinel!” Blair sneered loudly as he roughly grabbed Jim’s shoulder and shook it.
Jim stirred a little, his head lolled to the right, and a soft gurgle escaped through his barely parted lips.
Blair picked up the bottle of water from the ground next to Jim. He twisted the cap and popped it off.
“Wake up,” he crooned quietly, changing the tone of his voice. “Wake up, you twankin’ mutated skuzzheaded sentinel,” he whispered in what the tag was telling him was his guide-voice.
When Jim still didn’t move, Blair rose to his feet, took a step back, stretched out his arm, and started pouring the water over Jim’s head.
Jim’s eyes flew open. He spluttered and swiped at his face as he jerked unsteadily to a sitting position. He shook his head, sending droplets of water flying in all directions.
“What the hell---?” Jim roared as he tried to figure out what was happening.
Blair continued to calmly empty the entire contents of the bottle onto Jim’s head, ignoring the cantankerous rumbling and nasty looks coming from Jim. When the bottle was empty, Blair discarded it, letting it miss Jim’s head by just a few inches. Then he turned abruptly and walked away.
Jim took a few moments to collect his thoughts. The memory of the morning’s events raced through his mind and as the full impact of what had happened registered, he sprang to his feet and stormed after his guide.
He grabbed the youngster from behind and spun him about. He took hold of Blair’s shirt, fisted the material tightly, and yanked Blair toward him.
“I could have been killed, you little fool,” Jim hissed angrily. His eyes narrowed to cool ice-blue slits as he roughly jiggled his hold, throwing Blair off balance.
Blair clutched at Jim’s forearms, his eyes wide, his head shaking, as he tried to regain his equilibrium.
“I tried to wa- warn y-you,” Blair hissed at Jim in a raspy voice.
The band around Blair’s neck grew warm and prickled his skin. The metal seemed to melt and reform, digging into the kid’s neck. Blair tried to say something else, but his voice choked off in a hacking cough as his eyes began to water.
The band on Jim’s wrist was throbbing, keeping pace with the guide’s frantic movements. His anger flickered and then died away quickly, melting into horror, as he realized what was happening.
Jim released his hold, and Blair’s knees turned to jelly as the kid began to slide toward the ground He would have crashed hard if Jim hadn’t grabbed hold again, this time with a gentle embrace.
“No. No, no,no,no---,” Jim murmured as he eased Blair down.
The kid was limp, his arms dangled uselessly at his sides and his legs gave out completely. Jim’s backside hit the ground hard, taking the full brunt of their combined weight, sending small puffs of dust into the air, and he landed with a disgruntled, “Oomph”.
Blair folded into a crumpled heap at Jim’s side. Jim wrapped an arm around Blair’s shoulder and maneuvered the kid into a semi-prone position, with Blair’s torso tucked close to Jim’s. Blair’s head rested on Jim’s upper chest, and the sentinel placed one hand on the kid’s exposed cheek, pushing the young face in closer to his heart, and then secured his guide by planting his chin on top of the unruly mop of curls.
Jim took several deep breaths, steadying himself and his senses. And then he opened his senses to assess his guide’s condition.
Blair was trembling slightly; minute tremors shook both his frame and the neural pathways along the link. But his heartbeat was strong and his breathing even, if a bit shallow. Jim hesitantly moved Blair’s hair aside and touched the tips of his fingers to the band on Blair’s neck. The strip felt gooey to the touch, tingly and warm. As Jim rubbed it, the collar cooled and re-shaped itself once again.
Jim sighed in relief. He sagged forward, wrapping both arms around Blair.
“I’m sorry,” Jim whispered against the top of Blair’s head. “I didn’t know,” he explained desperately.
Jim could hear his teammates calling him, shouting at him. He could see their frenzied movements out of the corner of his eye. They were worried, for both Jim and Blair; they wanted some sign that everything was okay. Their voices sounded a little garbled, but Jim’s senses were dialed up, so he had no trouble making out what they were saying. He looked over at his friends, and they immediately stilled. Jim gave them a Panther team hand signal, indicating everything was all right.
Joel, H and Rafe smiled broadly, slapped each other’s shoulders and shook their heads.
Jim gave his team a shaky thumbs up, and then another signal that he’d need a few more minutes. And then he returned his full attention to Blair.
“Come on, kiddo,” Jim said as he gave Blair a gentle shake. “Wake up.”
Blair stirred, wiggled restlessly, and batted at Jim’s hands. “Go way,” he mumbled. “Lemme sleep. Fi more minnus.”
Jim chuckled at the innocent comments, enjoying what he knew would be a short respite from the wildcat of a guide he was sure would re-appear once the kid got his bearings.
Blair wiggled some more, worming himself around, working at finding a more comfortable position. Jim removed his arms, holding them up and away from Blair’s body, allowing the kid some freedom of movement. The sentinel studied his guide with a look of tolerant amusement. Blair finally settled on his back and pillowed his head against one of Jim’s thighs.
A look of contented bliss spread across Blair’s face. It lasted for about one heartbeat. Then his eyes popped open, and he emitted a small yelp as his still sore backside protested its contact with the hard ground.
Blair flipped himself over quickly, and backed away from Jim on his hands and knees. Jim made no attempt to stop him, and when Blair was a few feet away, he got to his feet. Jim rose at the same time, and Blair backed away further. The kid pawed at his neck, testing the band by sliding three fingers under it. He tried to rip it off and snarled in frustration as it refused to budge.
“Whoa there, Bait,” Jim stated calmly. He put his hands up in front of his chest. “We really need to talk.”
Blair continued to back away, never taking his eyes off the sentinel. He wobbled a little as his foot stumbled on a rock, but he kept his balance.
“You don’t have a telltale, do you?” Blair snapped. He threw his arms wide and began waving them about as he spoke. “How in gravity’s law of up and down did you ever get to be a Badge? You don’t have one kerfin’ tip-off about what your dear old dad acq’d, do you?” he shouted. “You never even bothered to have that Synth tell you what was on the receipt, didya?”
“No,” Jim agreed, “I didn’t.” He gave Blair a measured look. “Time was running out for you. My sentinel instincts just kicked in and nothing else mattered. I needed to find you and save your life.” Jim’s declaration was simple, and he made no attempt to apologize for what he’d done.
“You don’t know what happened, just now?” Blair asked skeptically. He put his hand to this throat once again and nervously ran his fingers across the tag band.
“I was angry, I know that much, really angry. Furious. You ran off again, disobeyed me, right after I told you we were leaving. I could have been killed ripping through the shield like that,” Jim said. “I’m guessing that my,” Jim hesitated, “my anger combined with the threat to my life must have triggered some sort of programmed punishment.”
Blair gulped, considering how much he should spill. He gave Jim an indecisive look and bit his lip.
Jim paced back and forth, not moving any closer to his guide, being careful not to spook him further. He made note of his teammates watching them. He kept track of the unfamiliar surroundings of the Zone as he moved. The band on Jim’s wrist was humming coaxingly, warm and prickly against his skin. Jim could feel the tag pulling, warning the sentinel to proceed cautiously.
Before Blair could say anything, Jim spoke again, giving his guide more to think about.
“Listen, Bait, I never had any intention of acq’ing a guide. This whole thing was my father’s idea, I’ve told you that already. Tagging was outlawed decades ago. I know that much, and the basics of why it was outlawed, but not much more. If we’re gonna get outta this, you need to tell me what you know.”
“You didn’t know about the fetter either?” Blair finally answered in a low voice.
“The what?” Jim responded with a confused look, not liking the sound of the word, not liking Blair’s body language when the kid said it.
Blair wrapped his arms around his torso, hugging himself. He looked at the ground for a few seconds, and then glanced about. He saw the Panther squad watching, waiting anxiously. He took a good look at his surroundings, the familiar landmarks of his private track into the Zone. He stared off into the Zone and thought of Naomi, wondering how she was. And then he looked over at the sentinel, and even though he tried to stop it, something in the tag-link snicked into place.
Blair cleared his throat and in a shaky voice, brought the sentinel up to speed.
“Okay. Well, first of all, when the shield zapped you into the Zone, you sorta conked out. Which, yeah, is pretty stat-quo for being zapped. But then you, ah, well you zoned. Mega-zone, all five senses. Ker-plooey.” Blair’s eyes widened at his own assessment and his hands wavered in an explosive gesture. “So, yeah, I, um, decided, with you zoned, it’d be a bitchanahalf idea for me to rabbit.”
Blair stopped to see what Jim’s reaction was. The sentinel just looked at him and indicated with a nod of his head that Blair should continue.
“Right,” Blair puffed out a held breath. “So, I waved a bidey-bye to your posse.” Blair pointed a finger at the Panther team, who were behind Jim’s back. The sentinel didn’t turn around. “And I told ‘em you were all right,” Blair added hastily. “All right, maybe not all right - all right, cuz I didn’t know how to let them know you were zoned, and I figgered it probably wouldn’t be the best idea for them to know you were zoned, because you’d probably come out of it and they were on the other side of the shield anyway, so it wasn’t like they could do anything---,”
“I get the vid, Bait,” Jim cut in with just a hint of irritation in his voice. “Come up for air, and get back on track.”
Blair did as he was told, taking a few deep breaths before continuing.
“I hadn’t gone very far, when the fetter yanked me back.” Before Jim could ask again, Blair explained what that meant. “A fetter prevents a guide from leaving his sentinel if the sentinel is zoned, or in some kind of distress.”
Jim noted that for the first time since he’d met his guide, the kid didn’t say the word sentinel like it was a dirty word.
“It tugged at me a little, when I left your side after you first hit the dirt. But I guess, cuz I stayed in the square and left water and nutrits with you, the tag didn’t twig right away. Once I was far enough away, the fetter kicked in for good and yanked me hard.”
“But we’ve been apart for most of the time since I completed the tag,” Jim put in, sounding a bit confused. “And I wasn’t happy about it. Why this time?”
Blair shrugged and fidgeted uncomfortably.
“Maybe just being pissed at your guide isn’t stressful enough, um, maybe the tag can tell you’re not zoned or in a life-threat?” He grinned crookedly at Jim. “I think it only kicks in if it’s one of those kinda sits, huh? Face it; sentinels and guides are going to need to be apart sometimes. A guy’d never get a chance to take leak if he’d get yanked every time he went off to take care of business.”
“Okay,” Jim conceded after a moment, “But that brings up that other reaction.” He looked at Blair sheepishly. “Why’d I react like that? What was that choke-hold shit?”
“Gut-react, man, total gut-react,” Blair reasoned out loud, nodding his head. “You were not just pissed. You were, like, life-threat, my guide is responsible for putting me in life-threat, mad. The tag must have a special auto-punish react programmed for when something like that happens.”
Jim looked stunned, like he’d just been sucker punched. “Why so harsh?”
“To teach the guide a lesson,” Blair answered. “Auto-punish reacts were one of the main reasons tagging was outlawed. You think that was harsh? You would not believe some of the autos that were used back in the day.”
Blair shuddered, remembering some of the things he’d read.
“So, you think that only happened because of an angry knee-jerk response to what I perceived in a moment of confusion?” Jim asked hopefully.
“Yeah, I think so,” Blair said. “Lucky for me, huh?” he added.
Jim glanced at Blair, totally befuddled.
“I mean, whoa, I am so not ice about that whole spanking thing you’re gung-ho about,” Blair said in what could only be interpreted as teasing. “But if it’s a one-two between walloping my butt or a yank and choke-hold?”
“Wait,” Jim interrupted, placing his hands on his hips, giving Blair a sidelong glance. “You’re saying that spanking you is also a tag-programmed react?” Jim’s eyes narrowed to slits, and an amused chuckle slipped out of his mouth.
“You sayin’ it’s not?” Blair threw back.
Jim laughed out loud at the remark and shook his head.
“Maybe, maybe not,” Jim replied. “You sure as blazes deserved each of the spankings I’ve given you, and the ones you’ve still got coming. You’re a smart-mouthed, sneaky, deceptive, thieving, conniving Underage brat. And if you weren’t my guide, I’m not sure I’d bother to do anything more than turn your scrawny little ass over to Juvie, or if I’d paddle it blue before I turned you in. So, yeah, maybe it is a react, and maybe not.”
“Scuzzheaded sentinel,” Blair answered cheekily.
Not really sure what exactly had just transpired between them, but feeling they’d reached some sort of truce, Jim moved toward Blair. The kid didn’t flinch, or back away, and Jim took it as a good sign. When he reached Blair’s side, Jim reached out and lightly punched the kid on the upper arm.
“So, where do we go from here?” Jim inquired. He took another long look around, reaching out with his senses, feeling out of sorts being inside the Zone. He hadn’t meant for the question to be taken literally and had meant it to be purely rhetorical. He had every intention of exiting the Zone as soon as the shield opened again, taking his guide with him.
Blair, however, took the question quite literally and answered honestly. “I don’t know about you, but I’m behind schedule here. This little detour has knocked off time I need to get to my howdy-do with ole Zeke.”
“No way Bait,” Jim replied.
Blair acted as if he hadn’t heard Jim and moved sideways to snatch his backpack. He plucked it from the ground, slung it up onto his shoulder, and started off toward the interior of the Zone.
Jim jogged the few steps it took to catch up to his guide. After what they’d just been through, he was miffed at his guide’s actions, but was careful not to give in to out right anger. He fell into step next to Blair.
Blair marched on, a determined look on his face. He glanced at Jim out of the corner of his eye.
“You don’t have to come with me,” Blair said with as much as nerve as he could muster.
“You’re not going,” Jim countered in a firm, no-nonsense command as he stepped in front of Blair.
“I have to,” Blair pleaded in a near whisper. “You don’t understand.”
“Explain it to me,” Jim answered flatly. He crossed his arms. “Explain to me why you’ve been pirating info and flitting in and out of the Zone.”
Blair tried to step around Jim, but the sentinel sidestepped, matching the move, blocking him. Blair stepped the other way, and Jim countered again. They continued the two-step for a few minutes, and then Jim stopped it by placing his hands gently, but firmly, on the top of Blair’s shoulders.
“Enough dancing, kiddo,” Jim stated. “We’re in this together, ‘til we’re not.”
It was Blair’s turn to look confused
Jim tapped Blair on the cheeks with his fingertips. “Now tell me what’s going on.”
Blair wavered indecisively for a moment, but then, heartened by Jim’s show of support, he capitulated as the tag thrummed adamantly between sentinel and guide.
“He, Ezekiel, he’s got my mom,” Blair said, as if that answered everything.
And maybe it did, Jim thought, at least in the kid’s mind. But it wasn’t enough to satisfy Jim, either as sentinel or Badge.
Blair saw the storm cloud pass over Jim’s features, and realized the sentinel wanted a more complete answer.
“This is the last time,” Blair offered, not wanting to waste too much time on pointless explanations. “The other night, after you collared me.” Jim winced at the description of the tag-link. “I sent a coded message to Ezekiel. Jericho.”
“What? What does that mean?’ Jim asked with a sinking feeling.
“It means I’ve gathered all the intel he wants, enough to topple the walls, and I’m ready to come home, to the Zone. It means he’ll meet me this time, with my mom. And then I can get my mom outta here. I can take her away from him,” Blair explained with youthful exuberance.
Jim grabbed Blair by the upper arms and shook him. “What kind of intel? What have you been feeding that madman? What’s he going to do with the information?”
Blair shook himself free of Jim’s hold and gave the sentinel a cold, steely look.
“Do you have any tip-off at all about how Zoners live?” he snarled at Jim, choking back a sob. “Do you think I had some kinda input about my ‘chosen path’?” Blair made quotations marks with his fingertips. “Do you think I’d actually help him?”
Blair winced at Jim, his young face stricken with a pained grimace.
“Rafe was smuggled out of the Zone ten years ago,” Jim answered, soothing his tone as best he could. “He’s told us some.”
“Rafe?” Blair inquired. He pushed a few stray curls off his face. “He one of your posse?”
“They’re not my posse,” Jim answered with a snort. “We’re the Panther unit, and yes, Rafe is one of us.”
“Oh,” Blair said, some of the bluster knocked out of him. He looked at Jim warily, hoping, but not really expecting, that Jim wouldn’t press him for more details.
“I’m not helping Ezekiel, that’s all,” Blair said, sounding a trifle petulant.
Jim arched an eyebrow and pushed on.
“Blair,” Jim said sternly. “I mean it. Give.”
“All right,” Blair huffed as he kicked the toe of this right foot into the ground. “The Hand, or Micah, whoever meets me, gives me a list, and a knock and come on in for a ‘let. I don’t who-what-why, I just tap the addies and troll.”
Jim didn’t like the sound of that.
“So you tap in, pirate info, and then trek it to the Zone, not even knowing what it is.” Jim made it a statement, not a question. “You could be handing over Gov no-tells for all you know.”
Blair’s mouth dropped open and his eyes rolled and danced. “You really are thick sometimes.” Blair’s remark was also a statement. “In case you haven’t twigged, I’m mega-wattage.” Blair tapped his temple with a fingertip. “There’s no way I’d just spew everything I snagged. I always have Daf skinny it up,” Blair explained. He slapped his hands together and then slid one off quickly with a whistled ‘ziiiiiip’. “And then we shoot it through a few pipelines, before I gave it to Zeke.”
Jim chose to ignore Blair’s remark about his intelligence and concentrated on his guide’s sincerity.
“Okay,” Jim said with a grin and a nod. “I’m sorry if I assumed the worst, kiddo,” he apologized. “It’s just, damn, you sure haven’t made things easy.”
Blair smiled in surprise at Jim’s apology, a full-fledged smile, and it made Jim feel great.
“Why would Ezekiel believe any of it’s upandup? And what makes you so sure he’s gonna just let you and your mom skate?” Jim asked.
Blair bounced up and down on the balls of his feet and ran his hands through his hair before waving them at Jim, and answered in a high-pitched squeal. “Because Ezekiel, the Guiding Light of the Free Zone, is a mega-deludanoid. And this hummin’ birthmark slapped on my rear by your pop,” Blair pointed at his butt for emphasis, “marked me as Chosen by good ole GL, and why would the Chosen wanna rain on GL’s holier than thou procession?” Blair’s replied in one long breath. “And I don’t think he’s gonna just let me and Naomi boogie off. But look how close we are to the shield, and I know when it’s gonna open, and if I time things just right, we’ll be able to skeddadle outta here while Zeke and the Hand and the Wrath are all holy-rolling with joy.”
Jim stared at Blair in disbelief and shook his head slowly. “That’s your plan?” he asked incredulously.
“Well,” Blair said, looking at Jim and then glancing away swiftly, “I had been hoping for more time to come up with something better, but---,”
“I showed up,” Jim finished for him. “And you had to improvise.”
“Yeah,” Blair admitted. “Something like that.”
The kid squared his shoulders and with fierce determination screwed onto his young face, he cleared his throat forcefully and spoke in a calm voice. “I’m not turning back, Jim. I’m going to get my mom away from him.”
Jim. His guide called him by his name. Not sentinel, like the word burned the kid’s tongue. His guide called him Jim.
Jim smirked as he felt the tag tingle and twitter.
“Wrong, kiddo,” Jim corrected, as he gave Blair a hefty swat on the butt. “We’re gonna get your mom.”
End Chapter 4