Those That Wake 02: What We Become Read Online Free Page B

away, almost silent, the next second roaring like an angry ocean, louder than it would have been right next to him.
    The nightmare he woke from still lingered, the same one he always had. It was his only constant companion in life now, this low-ceilinged dream of a man in a suit trying to drill into his brain.
    He pressed his fingers into his temples—slowly, everything felt like it was moving through thick, unyielding syrup—and tried to gouge out the nightmare and the pain along with it, to absolutely no effect whatsoever. He swallowed and blinked and grunted and ran his tongue over the jagged shrapnel of tooth lodged in his soft, bloody gums, and did little things with his body, just to steady himself. It was difficult to focus, particularly on things that happened right before he went out, but he knew they had put something in him, something that would let them keep track of him. That, at least, he could counter. No technology they had could possibly penetrate into here, into a forgotten place. But, he suddenly wondered, was that to his advantage? How would they take it if their means of keeping him under tabs proved worthless as soon as they had let him go? He needed to keep this advantage in reserve, because while he was immediately safe in here, he couldn’t stay in here forever. That would mean death, not only for his body, but long before that, death for his spirit, which was slowly worn away every moment he spent in one of these places, just as the surfaces of the building and ground were slowly worn away.
    He gave himself another moment before he tried to stand and then, nearly toppling over, sat down again. He did this twice before he overcame the unsteadiness by a sheer refusal to fall, turned the spinning alley and tilting floor into an enemy, and then simply refused to back down from it. He shuffled to the ragged and splintered doorway, and—bracing himself for the more intense light, the more intense world of input—he stepped out.
    The world roared into life around him and, again, al-most knocked him backwards. He held himself with a powerful but trembling arm against a wall. People streamed by, not a single one sparing him a glance away from their cells or the images their cellenses were transmitting into their eyes. The flawlessly polished window of a gourmet coffee superstore incongruously reflected his ruin of a face back at him.
    There was only one place for him, one person for him to go to. Putting her in danger made his blood boil hot, knowing they were tracking him wherever he went now. But the woman, Kliest, knew about her already. So going to her would not be putting her in any more jeopardy.
    How to get there, though? With about five bucks in his pocket, he couldn’t get a cab, and he stayed clear of the shiny silver subway stations patrolled by the MCT. It was moot, since barely anyone took cash anymore, anyway. He steadied himself to begin what promised to be a grueling walk across town, when a shadow fell across his path and halted there.
    “Mal, are you all right?” asked a person he’d never seen before, a plump woman with frizzy hair, pushing a baby carriage. He squinted into her eyes briefly, collecting himself.
    “Yes.”
    “What did they do to you?”
    “Gave me a job.”
    “What? What do you mean?” the woman asked as the baby in the carriage studied Mal upside down and kicked its legs energetically.
    “How did you find me?” Mal questioned the unfamiliar woman, squinting down at the innocent, unspoiled little human like it was an alien creature.
    “I saw them pick you up but couldn’t follow. I waited, and they dropped you back.”
    “You’ve been watching me.”
    “I . . .” The plump face could not seem to decide how to end that sentence, so Mal gathered himself and began shuffling away.
    “Mal,” she said a moment later. “Can I help you?”
    “No.” He took another two steps before he realized how limited his options really were. “Wait.” He turned