Fugitive Six by Pittacus Lore

Author:Pittacus Lore
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2018-05-04T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

ISABELA SILVA

THE HUMAN GARDE ACADEMY—POINT REYES, CALIFORNIA

ISABELA SILVA DID NOT THINK OF HERSELF AS A hero. Hell no.

She knew some of her friends thought of themselves that way. Kopano, Taylor, and Nigel for sure. Ran, probably, even if she was too much of a wannabe pacifist to say so. Caleb, well, he probably didn’t know what to think about himself, that was his whole deal. Anyway, although they didn’t admit it, she knew that her friends thought of themselves as the second coming of the Loric Garde. They were a small group fighting against a powerful enemy in a secret conflict, their lives and potentially the fate of humanity on the line. Professor Nine, the big idiot, he encouraged this thinking with his secret hideout and special training.

Isabela couldn’t give a shit. The Foundation were bad people, sure. The Harvesters were about the worst pieces of human garbage she’d ever met. And given enough time and less supervision, Isabela was certain more of her fellow Garde would turn rotten like that Einar guy.

Point being, Isabela knew the world was full of bad people. It was never not going to be full of bad people. Her friends thought they could make a difference and that was cute, but Isabela knew it would never happen. There would always be a next battle, a next bad guy.

So, if she was so cynical, why was she hiding in the bushes alongside Dr. Linda’s house, keeping a lookout?

For starters, it was less boring than sitting in her room doing homework.

But also, for the same reason she’d kept hanging around the rest of the Fugitive Six, even though their last adventure got her shot. They were her friends. Isabela might have been a cynic, but she was also loyal.

In the shadows outside Linda’s house, Isabela let her mask slip. She touched the leathery ripples of her burn-scarred cheek. They’d seen this face, her true face—and they didn’t judge. They accepted her.

So, she would accept their silly hero fantasies and help them not get themselves killed. At least it made life exciting.

Movement. Someone was leaving Dr. Linda’s. Isabela cut short her reverie, rolled her eyes at her own self-reflection, and quickly shape-shifted back into her unscarred form.

It was the psychiatrist herself. Alone. Isabela scowled. Had their plan worked? Dr. Linda walked down the path that led out of the faculty village, towards the administration building. Linda had told Isabela—when she was in the guise of Nine—that she would go there to help search for Taylor.

She couldn’t let Linda go talk to the real Nine, not until Taylor had made contact with the Foundation. But Taylor was still inside. Was she supposed to wait there or . . . ?

“Merda,” Isabela grumbled. They should’ve worked this out better.

Isabela ducked out of her hiding spot and decided to follow Dr. Linda. She jogged between cottages, running parallel to Linda, getting ahead of her. She didn’t want to get noticed by any of the security cameras. She picked a shadowy spot between two cottages and waited for Linda to catch up.

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