Free Enders by Lissa Price Page B

I’d been feeling sorry formyself, missing my parents’ warm hugs. But Hyden couldn’t be touched by anyone.
    “If it’s determined to be a phobia, then yes. They’re not sure.”
    I stared out at the torn billboards by the highway that no one could afford to rent anymore. Then something occurred to me.
    “You wanted the mind-body transfer for you and your mother, didn’t you? That’s why you invented this.”
    He breathed in again. Only I didn’t hear the exhale.
    “I hoped it would have many medical applications.” He sounded so weary.
    “But what happened?”
    “She died of complications before I could get it going.”
    “And then your father had his own ideas?”
    “He lied to me about what Prime would be,” he said slowly. “And then it was too late.”
    We continued driving for another half mile before the scanner picked up a signal.
    “It’s south. Get off the freeway,” I said.
    He took the next exit and turned right. We drove about a mile. The scanner showed we were close.
    I pointed across the street. “It’s coming from that direction.”
    We looked and didn’t see any Starters. Just Enders.
    He turned right. “It’s from down this street.”
    We saw a dark-haired Starter, average height, good-looking, wearing an unbuttoned plaid shirt over a T-shirt. He leaned against a concrete planter and drank from his water bottle.
    Hyden slowed down and pulled over while we looked at the Starter.
    “His clothes look shabby,” I said.
    “What are you, the fashion police?”
    “You know what I mean. He doesn’t look like an ex-donor, a Metal.”
    “Most of them went back to the streets,” he said. “Not like you. They didn’t even get paid when Prime came down.”
    He was right. I felt so stupid. I wasn’t judging him, just looking for clues. But only their appearance could really tell us, and now that I had a better look, this one was close to perfection. He closed his water bottle and slung it over his shoulder.
    Hyden parked the car. “Stay here. Don’t get out.”
    Before I could say something, he was out and walking toward the Starter.
    Hyden tried to be casual, but the guy wasn’t returning Hyden’s smile. Instead, he looked nervous, shaking his head at Hyden’s questions.
    Suddenly the Starter pushed him and ran down the street. Hyden flinched in pain but took off running after him. I climbed over the console to get to the driver’s seat and followed them.
    I didn’t know what Hyden was going to do when he caught the guy—he obviously couldn’t touch him. The Starter ran into a dead-end alley and saw that he was cornered. I pulled the SUV in right behind Hyden. The Starter turned his back to climb a wall, but Hyden reached up and held something small to the back of the guy’s neck so that only the item made contact. The Starter fainted.
    Hyden wrapped his jacket around his hands, and together we picked the guy up and put him in the SUV. An Ender at the end of the alley yelled at us, but we ignored him. Hydenclimbed into the back with the Metal while I got in the driver’s seat.
    “Go,” he said.
    I started driving. “Where?”
    “Head to the freeway.”
    I set the navigator and concentrated on the road.
    After some rustling around from the back, somebody climbed up to sit in the passenger seat next to me. Only it wasn’t Hyden. It was the guy with the plaid shirt.
    Panicked, I accidentally swung the car into the next lane. “What happened to Hyden?”
    I turned around and saw Hyden’s body sprawled out in the back of the car.
    Plaid Shirt guided the wheel with his left hand. “Careful with my car.”
    I looked at him. He smiled, and something about him seemed familiar.
    “Hyden?” I asked.
    “Yes,” Plaid Shirt said.
    It was so weird. “Is that really you?”
    “In the flesh. Well, actually, in the borrowed flesh.”
    “What do you think you’re doing? You jacked that guy.”
    “It’s for his own good. He would have fought us.” He took his hand off the