Free Renegade by Debra Driza

What if I said or did something that landed Hunter and me back into Holland’s hands?
    A virtual avalanche of bad outcomes, just waiting to topple down on our heads.
    I scanned the sprawling yard beyond the gate and the quiet, tree-lined street in a panoramic sweep, taking in every tiny detail.
    Four weapons detected.
    But the guns were scattered among the houses. Surely not Holland’s men, who’d be armed to the teeth?
    Yet what about the V.O.? With all that technology at their disposal, maybe they had weapons that were undetectable.
    Human threat detected: 76 ft.
    Just a couple of early morning joggers, clad in well-worn, appropriate-looking athletic attire, chatting as their sneakers hit the pavement. Nothing suspicious.
    “Let’s do it,” I finally answered. No point in further delaying the inevitable.
    “Remember, I’ve got your back,” he said, creaking open the passenger door. “Like Batman and Robin. Tarzan and Jane. Michael Knight and Kit.”
    I paused with one hand on the handle. “Who?”
    He laughed. “Never mind. Just this stupid old show about a guy and his car. They play reruns on TNT.”
    I climbed out and put my hands on my hips. “And who’s the car in this scenario?” Though tension still plucked my android nerves like harp strings, I was thankful for Hunter’s interjection. The way he made me laugh was one of the many reasons why the thought of setting him free was tearing me apart inside. But I had to do it, and I would. Tonight. Once we were back on the road and our day together was officially over.
    He loped around to my side of the car and stood in front of me, gently easing a loose strand of hair back behind my ear. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he teased. “Seriously, though, I’m here for you.”
    My smile wobbled, and I averted my eyes. He was here for me, but only because I’d been hiding things. Holding him close might feel like a dream come true, but in reality, I was exposing him to a nightmare.
    The perfumed scent grew stronger as we approached the gate, and just inside, there was a burst of color in reds, peaches, and yellows blooming along the wall—wild and beautiful. Rosebushes, all full of flowers—well, except for that one bush nearest the street—it looked a little picked over compared to the rest.
    At five steps out, I realized the gate was electronic. Grady probably had a remote button he could push from inside the house. Troublesome, because I didn’t want to give him the opportunity to turn us away before we’d even had a chance to meet.
    As I stepped forward, I opened my mind to the networks buzzing all around us. I was intentionally seeking out a thread of communication with the system I knew must be lurking out there, the one that controlled the gate. I found the gleaming silvery strand right away.
    Signal detected: Override lock?
    Yes.
    The briefest of pauses, followed by a tiny burst of power. And then—
    Override commencing . . . 3, 2, 1 . . .
    Under mycommand, the gate whirred to life, hissing open with a slow glide to reveal the path to the house. So simple. Barely more trouble than walking. For a tiny, ecstatic moment, I felt like I could accomplish anything.
    “Wow, guess someone knew we were coming, huh?” Hunter said.
    I watched the gate slide across the track with a small smile, that same thrill of power tingling beneath my skin. Yes, someone did know. Me.
    The thrill dimmed when I noted the camera again, watching us from up in the tree like a giant eye. I tilted my head away. When we passed directly under it, I lifted my left hand and pretended to scratch my forehead, using it as a shield. Twenty more steps, then fifteen.
    Motion detected.
    Human threat detected.
    My legs tensed under me and my head whipped toward the door. The elaborate wooden structure swung inward with a heavy groan, making Hunter stop short and me jump back, curbing the urge to shift into a defensive stance.
    Target: Visualized.
    Engage?
    What? No! I ignored the