Safe (The Shielded Series Book 1) by Christine DePetrillo Read Free Book Online Page A

fail.
    Darina’s hair whipped around as the hovercopter touched down on the roof.
She ran for the aircraft and ripped open a door on the side. Turning back
toward him, she waved him over.
    Foster hadn’t been aware of the distance between himself and Darina. He’d
fallen behind in his bastard-not bastard internal debate. As he looked at the
hovercopter, however, he groaned. The vehicle appeared to have been patched
with parts from about twenty different machines, none of them matching or
exactly fitting together with a perfect seal. It didn’t look as if it could
stay up in the air for very long.
    And how had it gotten past Emerge Tech’s walls and security field?
    He was about to tell Darina he’d organize for other transport, but she’d
already hopped into the hovercopter. She clearly had faith in its ability—and
its pilot’s ability—to get them the hell out of there, despite her fear of
heights. She leaned forward to the cockpit where Foster now realized two people
sat, not just the pilot. When her head popped back out, she waved him over
again with a hurry up expression on her face.
    And he wanted to hurry up. He really did. He wasn’t imagining the growing
heat beneath his feet. If he stayed any longer, he’d be toast.
    But letting these people into my sanctuary?
    He didn’t like this.
    He didn’t like being dead more.
    Foster sprinted toward the hovercopter. When he reached it, an explosion
vibrated the building beneath him. He stumbled and fell to the roof a few yards
from the waiting aircraft, banging his forehead when his arms didn’t move fast
enough to prevent the impact. As he attempted to get to his feet, the roof
caved in to his right. He rolled to his left and gazed up at the sky clouded
with smoke and ash. The sky inside Emerge Tech’s walls never looked like that.
The air purifiers made the sky an ever-present blue, intense and reminiscent of
a summer Boston afternoon circa 2015.
    The black plumes of smoke mesmerized him. He couldn’t blink, couldn’t
move. A fleeting thought that this was the end made regrets rocket through
Foster’s mind.
    Why hadn’t he abandoned the city altogether and stayed in Vermont?
    Why had he worked so hard and played so little?
    Why hadn’t he at least tried to find someone to love?
    Too late. He was meat cooking on the rooftop now.
    A tug on his arm made him angle his head toward the still-waiting
hovercopter. Darina crouched by his head, her hair a wild storm around her
face—her beautiful, concerned face.
    “C’mon, Foster!” she shouted above the roaring in his ears.
    His name sounded wonderful coming from her lips. He wouldn’t mind hearing
her say it again. Sitting up, he waited for the roof to stop spinning, but that
didn’t seem to be happening. He brought his hand up to where his forehead had
hit the roof and his fingers came away bloody.
    “Shit.”
    “A little flesh wound. You can zap heal it on the hovercopter,” Darina
said. “We’re all going to have major flesh wounds if we don’t get the hell out
of here like now.”
    Foster rolled to his knees, trying desperately to clear his head with no
success. He managed to stand and focused on the rickety hovercopter and what he
could now see of the long-haired pilot.
    A short beard surrounded the pilot’s jaw, but a long slash ran through
the scruff along his right cheek. No hair grew there, indicating it was
probably the remnant of an unpleasant injury. He was solid and a bit more
muscled than Foster. A sleeveless gray shirt that revealed a full sleeve tattoo
on his right arm covered his torso. The ink appeared to start under the shirt
somewhere and from what Foster could see, it looked like a barbed-wire design
with... with… were those skeletons trying to free themselves from behind the
wire?
    Okay then.   
    The guy had a pair of headphones around his neck and his icy blue stare
said, I’ll mess you up if given the chance.
    “Time to jet, Foster.” Darina reached out her right hand