Bzrk Apocalypse by Michael Grant

Author:Michael Grant [Grant, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Teen & Young Adult, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Science Fiction
ISBN: 9781405263467
Google: lV8JnwEACAAJ
Amazon: B00JTA9YHW
Publisher: EgmontUSA
Published: 2014-05-01T04:00:00+00:00

better, really, because it was something he could understand. It was

something he could defend himself from emotionally.

He still loved her. But she had never loved him, had she? And now

. . . Now where was Sadie McLure?

“Do you want to make love?” She asked him, that and he wanted

to punch her in the face.

Not her, not Sadie, no, it was . . . it was whoever this person was,

this reprogrammed, wired alteration of Sadie. It was this truly new

creature called Plath.

“I’m tired,” he said, and the relief in her eyes was almost more

than he could endure.

“Yeah. Big day tomorrow,” she said.

“Oh? Why?”

Her eyes flicked right—guilty, caught. She shrugged and forced a

phony smile. “Aren’t they all big days?”

She left, heading toward the bedroom they still shared.

Tears filled his eyes and since no one was around to see him

standing there like a fool, he let the tears roll down his cheeks.

Back to New York, that’s what Lystra said. “Back to New York to

watch the show, yeah. A lot happening very soon. Timing. It’s all in

the timing, yeah.”

194

BZRK APOCALYPSE

So here they were. New York City, and damned if the tattooed

madwoman didn’t have an apartment a block away from the Tulip.

He could look straight down Sixth Avenue and see the building. He

could run for it, escape, get to the Twins and say, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,

but you don’t know what this crazy bitch is doing!”

He could do that. And they’d thank him for the information and

then kill him. Or Lystra would catch him and she would show him

that scary face she had, the one where she seemed almost to turn into

a skeleton. And then she could kill his biots and turn him loose.

Death or madness. Seriously? That’s what it was down to? The

three windows in his head said yes, yes, that was exactly the choice.

He wondered rather morbidly just what kind of crazy he would

be. Stories were still leaking out of Stockholm. They said some big-

deal banker found a way to hang himself from a chandelier. They said

a French general was found smeared with feces, crying. They said a

famous American horror novelist had run into the street and beaten

a party Santa to death with a fire extinguisher.

Which crazy will you be, Anthony? he asked himself.

What escape was there? The Twins? The American government?

He stopped breathing. The answer—not a good answer, a weak,

probably worthless answer—popped into his head.

Someone brilliant. Someone with mad skills. Someone who once

had almost, sort of, liked Bug Man. And was just a block away.

Burnofsky.

Lystra had taken his phone. She was on her own phone right now

in the adjacent room, telling her CEO, some dude named Tom, to

fire all the remaining employees, effective now, this minute, shut it all

195

MICHAEL GRANT

down, the whole Directive Medical shebang, stop all checks and buy

more gold. Yeah. Just don’t touch Cathexis.

Burnofsky. The dude had invented nanobots. It stood to reason

he’d have . . . something. But how to reach him? He knew Burnofsky’s

e-mail and his cell, but Bug Man had no phone.

He would have to wait until she was asleep, th.

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