At First Touch by Mattie Dunman Page A

me to go with him, to undergo more tests, determine what I was really capable of.
    Skeptical, my father told him we weren’t interested in joining his organization or going through any more tests. Samuelson took the news with good humor, but promised to return the next day to try to convince us to change our minds. It wasn’t until he was gone that I realized he had been very careful not to touch me.
    We started running that night.
    Over the years I had run into agents of the Coalition. That was one of the reasons that we moved every few months; staying in one place too long meant that they would somehow track me down.
    About a year ago they did. I was leaving school one day when a van pulled up and a masked man grabbed me and hauled me in. I was knocked out almost immediately and woke up strapped to a metal table with electrodes attached to my skin and an IV in my hand. There followed the worst week of my life. I tried never to think about it, and I would do anything to prevent being taken by the Coalition again.
    My stomach sank as I looked down at Fitz, the mercenary who very nearly got me this time. I felt sick. We’d only been here for a week. How had he found me so fast?
    Sifting through his most recent thoughts provided me with the answer. He hadn’t tracked me to Pound, he was just passing through on his way to Ohio, where Dad and I had just moved from. Fitz was doing some business on the side for a local chapter of a biker gang, supervising a drug run and then ‘taking care’ of the supplier. Fitz had been in the diner getting lunch when he spotted me, compared me to the picture in his file, and snuck outside to grab me. It was sheer chance that he saw me at all.
    Just my luck.
    With a desperate sense of hope, I examined his thoughts more closely and felt the knots in my stomach unwind. He hadn’t called anyone about seeing me, assuming he would have no trouble nabbing a sixteen year old girl. Thankfully, my reflexes and extensive knowledge of self-defense had kicked in.
    I could have wept with the relief that swept over me. The Coalition didn’t know I was in Pound. I was safe here, for the time being, if I could get rid of Fitz. Now, however, I had to decide what to do with him. I couldn’t let him go, since he would just keep looking for me or lead the Coalition straight to me, but if he simply disappeared someone else would probably be sent to investigate. Besides, it’s not like I could kill him; though from what I had learned about him, he would certainly be no loss to the world.
    I stood there frantically trying to work out a plan of action when I heard a gasp behind me and swung around in a defensive stance, fists at the ready.
    “What the hell?”
    I dropped my hands and relaxed. Carey was standing a few feet away, surprise etched on his face. I had completely forgotten about him. He rushed toward me and clutched my shoulders, searching me for signs of damage. “What happened? Are you alright?” His voice sounded as shaky as I felt.
    “Yes, I’m fine. This guy just attacked me…I think he was trying to mug me or something,” I lied. This was not good.
    Carey released me and went over to stare at the slumped figure on the ground. After a tense moment he turned back to me with an expression of admiration.
    “Wow. Remind me never to sneak up on you in a dark alley.”
    I smiled then stopped abruptly. His presence made everything so much more complicated. He would want to call the police, which I couldn’t have, and I could hardly explain to him that the man was a mercenary with twenty kills under his belt and a cocaine habit that would make George Jung sneeze.
    Right on cue, Carey said, “I guess we’d better call the police. Are you sure you’re ok?”
    I swore under my breath. “Yeah, I’m ok. What are you doing back here anyway?” My voice may have been a little short, but I was thinking as quickly as I’d ever done.
    “Um. You didn’t come back in and I couldn’t see you, so I