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“I’LL PICK YOU UP LATER,” Tony said, hovering near the door. They were in one of the faceless financial high-rises near the center of the Enclave. It was late, well after business hours, and the office towers were dark and empty.
Except for one basement unit. Darcy’s anonymous clinic, staffed by anonymous medical personnel.
“Three hours, no more.” Connor tried to put the crack of an order in his words. “Darcy expects us back before daybreak.”
“I know the routine.” Tony glared at him through blood-shot eyes. He’d developed a nervous tic. “I’ve never been late.”
“Sure, sure, see you then.” Connor dismissed him, too tired to waste time arguing. He hates being told what to do by someone half his age.
Tony muttered something under his breath, and then he was gone. Connor heard the exterior door open and shut.
A few more hours with the wife and kids. They’re already sound asleep, Tony. What difference will it make?
It hadn’t been easy, manhandling Don’s bulk down the hallway and into the elevator. In the end, Tony and Connor each threw one of his arms across their shoulders, and half-carried, half-dragged him. They also threw in a few calculated remarks about having too much to drink, for the sake of any surveillance cameras.
Darcy carried Jane’s limp body in his arms as he followed them. He was sober enough to perform the task without falling over. If anything, his erratic gate and slurred speech would lend credibility to their cover story.
“It’s two-thirty in the morning. Would you like to get some sleep, sir?” It took Connor a moment to realize the orderly was speaking to him. I’m not used to people calling me “sir.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” he replied, stifling a yawn. “Big day tomorrow.”
“You mean today.” The orderly grinned, pointing to a clock on the wall. “There’s a bed in the next examining room. We’ll wake you once the Implant procedure is complete.”
Connor thanked him and wandered into the adjacent room. He extinguished the light and stretched out on the cot with a grateful sigh.
He spied the orderly peering around the edge of the door, keeping a watchful eye on him. Connor smiled, grateful for the added security. Being Darcy’s foster son has its perks.
He rolled onto his side and dozed off almost immediately, dreaming of a Giver-free Enclave.