UnWholly (Unwind Dystology 2)

“I don’t want to see it.” Connor reaches to turn it off, but Lev grasps his wrist.

“Yes, you do.”

And although the last thing Connor wants to see is another sales pitch for unwinding, he gives in, bracing himself for whatever he’s about to see.

He can tell right away from the look on Risa’s face that she has a single-minded determination she didn’t have in the other interview he saw.

He watches in amazement as, in less than two minutes, she blasts Proactive Citizenry, the Juvies, and unwinding so completely there’s no doubt which side she’s on. The show’s anchorman is left scrambling to pick up the pieces.

“They were blackmailing her!” Connor feels his eyes get moist. He knew there had to be an explanation, but he had become so jaded against everyone and everything, he was willing to believe that Risa had chosen to heal herself at everyone else’s expense. Now he’s ashamed of himself for thinking that.

“Proactive Citizenry has already released a statement denying it,” Lev tells him. “They claim she’s the one who used them.”

“Yeah, right. Let’s hope nobody’s stupid enough to believe them.”

“Some people are, some aren’t.”

Connor looks to Lev and smiles, realizing that getting tranq’d kind of put a damper on their reunion. “It’s good to see you, Lev.”

“Same here.”

“What’s with the hair?”

Lev shrugs. “It’s a look.”

They hear a car pulling up in the sales office parking lot. Time to go.

“So what do we do now? Lev asks. “I’m kind of AWOL from the Anti-Divisional Resistance. . . .”

“The ADR has become useless. If the best they can do is send AWOLs to a holding pen for the Juvies, then something’s not working. Someone needs to rethink things.”

“Why not you?” Lev suggests.

“Why not us?” Connor counters.

Lev considers it. “Well . . . you’re a martyr and I’m a patron saint—I can’t think of anyone better! So where do we start?”

It’s a big question. Where do you begin to change the world? Connor thinks he may have the answer. “Have you ever heard of Janson Rheinschild?”

83 - Nelson

Even before he comes fully to his senses, he knows something has gone terribly, terribly wrong. He opens his eyes to scorching daylight. He’s lying in a ditch. His body aches. One side of his face feels as if it’s on fire.

He was tranq’d. Not just once, but repeatedly, and by his own damn gun! Enough sedatives to knock him out for maybe twelve hours. It’s a wonder he hasn’t been eaten alive by desert scavengers—but from the pain in his left leg, and bloody holes in his stolen uniform, clearly something tried. Nelson wonders how long he’s been in the sun. Long enough for half his face to be swollen and throbbing from a second-degree sunburn.

He had him! He had Connor Lassiter, and now he has nothing but the tattered clothes on his back. It was the tithe! How could Nelson have been so careless! He should have killed Lev when he had the chance, but out of the kindness of his heart, he had let the boy live.

And here is the result of kindness.

The two will already be far from here, covering their tracks. His laptop held the codes of Lev’s tracking nanites. Without his computer, they’re useless. Nelson will not give up. He will find them. Tracking has always been his specialty, and this setback? It’s nothing! It will only make him more determined, more ruthless in achieving his goal.

He climbs out of the ditch and marches, weak-legged, but strong-willed, like a zombie, toward Tucson. He will catch the Akron AWOL, deliver him to Divan, and be there to witness his unwinding—but the tithe will not meet such a merciful end. When Nelson finds Lev, he will visit upon the boy such wrath it will make the very ground tremble. Of this, Nelson can be sure. Just thinking about it fills him with enough joy and purpose to propel him down the long road to Tucson, and dark destinies beyond.

84 - Connor

“Flagstaff doesn’t look much like south Arizona,” says Lev. “Looks more like Denver or something.”

“Denver doesn’t look like Denver,” Connor tells him. “I was there once. It doesn’t have crazy mountain views like you’d think. The views here are better.” After being so long in the south Arizona desert, Connor is thankful for the dramatic change in scenery. With white-capped mountains to the north and an abundance of pine trees, he knows they can’t be too far from the town of Happy Jack and the dead harvest camp, but he tries not to think about that. The past is the past.