“Odds I’ll have to take,” Dean breathed almost to himself, conserving his energy for his spring forward. He had estimated that one break, like starting a sprint in training at the Brody school, would propel him forward with enough force to catch the sec man in the midriff and push him back. Harvey would land, hopefully winded, on his back. Dean would roll forward from the thrust and be on his feet first, heading for the corridors. His only hope was to head back to his father and his companions. Harvey would then be in a difficult position. He may have to act covertly, which would hamper his ability to do them harm, especially if they were on triple red.
All these thoughts raced through the boy’s head in a fraction of a second as he threw himself forward, lowering his head to catch the sec man off guard and in the solar plexus.
Which was exactly what he did. Harvey had instinctively read the movement of Dean’s body, and was ready for the attack, but was a fraction of a second slower than the youth in reaction time. A vital fraction of a second as Dean’s head caught him beneath the breastbone, driving the air from his lungs with a gulping gasp as the sec chief tried to replace the air almost immediately.
But Dean was already in a forward roll, his legs cutting through the air, using the prone Harvey as a cushion against his impact on the hard floor.
The young Cawdor sprang to his feet, almost stumbling as his ankle twisted on the uneven floor, but managing to stay erect with only a sharp knife of pain, too brief to stop him, to mark the stumble.
He had made two steps to the door, leaving a floundering sec chief twisting on the floor, cursing and trying to pull his Colt from where the holster had slipped on his belt, almost underneath him, when he was brought up short by a wave of paralyzing fear.
Dean had seen rabbits before they were chilled, frozen in a sudden burst of light. He had seen a mutie fox, so terrified at being cornered that its muscles were almost frozen in rigor before its chilling; but he had never experienced such a crippling fear—nor did he think it was possible for a human being.
But now he knew differently. Try as he might, he was unable to move a muscle voluntarily. They trembled and quivered in his legs as though they would, at any moment, dissolve to liquid. Although he could hear the cursing sec chief struggle to his feet, although he could hear him free his blaster, still Dean Cawdor was frozen, unable to move from his absurd position of being midrun.
And it wasn’t just his being frozen; it was the fear itself. He had been scared before—terrified, even. His father always told him that fear could be a positive thing in a dangerous situation. It would help you clarify and make priorities when things were tough. But this was a different kind of fear. This was a blind, all-encompassing terror that made it impossible for Dean’s mind to focus on one thing, flitting as it did from moment to moment between abject terror at dying, fear of torture, and even a ridiculous scaredness at wetting himself in his terror, feeling the urine flow down his leg.
“Well, I’ll be fucked by a mutie leper!” Harvey exclaimed. “The little fucker can’t even move—and he’s pissed himself. I’ve got to hand it to you, babe…”
Dean was confused. Who was Harvey talking to? And then she entered the room. Although Dean couldn’t conquer the fear, or think clearly through it, a part of his brain suddenly realized why he was so scared.
It was Jenna. The baron’s mutie wife stepped through the outer door. She had obviously been waiting for Harvey to clean up the situation, but since he had failed she had decided to step in herself. Both Jak and Krysty had mentioned her obvious feelie ability, and now Dean was aware of how strong it could be when she chose to exercise the faculty.
Her sharp, pointed face was clouded with anger as she stood in front of the boy. The raven eyes glittered with nothing so much as childish petulance, and the dark curtains of hair that hung down over her shoulders only accentuated those eyes…the eyes that bore into him.