Michael Vey 3 by Richard Paul Evans

Author:Richard Paul Evans
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon Pulse
Published: 2013-09-17T00:00:00+00:00

19

Bounty Hunter

Taylor woke, groggy and disoriented. She was moving, she could tell that, but not by her own power. Someone was carrying her over his shoulder, fireman-style. Her stomach hurt where the man’s shoulder dug into it. The man carrying her was muscular and lean, but panting heavily. Who is it? She focused on his thoughts.

I’ve got to rest. If I could get close enough to get his gun. Too bad he’s got that helmet. If Taylor could just reboot him . . .

Taylor recognized Jack’s thoughts.

I don’t know how much longer I can go without water.

A few minutes later Jack said out loud, “C’mon, dude. I’ve got to rest. We’ve been walking for hours.”

“And we’ve yonks to go, mate,” the voice said with an Australian accent. “Keep walkin’.”

Put down that gun, and we’ll see how tough you are.

First chance I get I’m bucking wild on you.

Taylor felt guilty letting Jack carry her, but she was too weak to walk on her own. Her joints felt like rubber. What did they do to me?

Ten minutes later, Jack carried her over a stream. He slipped on a rock and caught himself before he fell, but not without twisting his ankle. She could feel his pain in his thoughts. When they reached the other side, he stumbled and, protecting Taylor, fell to his knees, then side, letting Taylor fall on top of him.

“Get up!” the man shouted.

“What are you going to do, shoot me?”

“I might.”

“Do it. Then you can carry her yourself.”

“Up with you!” the man shouted.

“I need rest. And I need water.”

There was a short pause, then the man said, “All right, ya bludger. Just five minutes. You can drink from the stream.”

Jack forced himself to his feet.

“Don’t try anythin’ stupid or I’ll shoot ya both.”

“I’m not running,” Jack said as he stumbled over to the stream. He knelt down on the bank and splashed water in his face, then cupped his hands and drank from it.

“I’m sure it’s got all sorts of nasties,” the man said, drinking from his own canteen.

Jack took another drink. Then he walked back over and fell down next to Taylor. He noticed her eyes fluttering. She forced them open and looked into his eyes. “Jack?” she said weakly.

“Shhh,” he said, shaking his head.

“Where are we?”

He put his finger over his mouth and tilted his head toward the man. For the first time Taylor saw who Jack had been thinking about. The Australian was tall, dressed in the black-and-red uniform of an Elgen district leader. He was holding a pistol. He also wore the attack helmet the Elgen donned whenever they came after her, which explained why she couldn’t reboot him. He suddenly looked at her.

“So yer awake, are ya?”

“Who are you?” Taylor asked.

“An opportunist,” the man said. “You’re a very valuable catch, sheila. There’s a bounty on yer head. Two and a half million soles. That’s almost a million dollars American. And my pack mule here,” he said, pointing his pistol at Jack, “has a fifty-thousand-dollar bounty.

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