Prodigy

clip ring.
    My finger stops moving. Then I inch it gradually off my ring finger behind my back and try to unfurl its spiraling metal wires. A soldier glances at me, but I close my eyes and let out a soft moan of pain through my gag. He returns to his conversation. I let my fingers run down the spiraling ring and pull it straight. The paper clips were twisted six times. I unfurl the first two. Then I straighten out the rest of the paper clip and bend it into what I hope is a stretched-out Z shape. The movement makes both of my arms cramp painfully.
    Suddenly one of the balcony soldiers stops talking to check the streets below. He stays like that for a while, his eyes searching. If he heard Day, Day must have vanished again. The soldier scrutinizes the roofs, then loses interest and goes back into his stance. Far down the hospital corridor, I hear people talking and the unmistakable sound of wheels against the tiled floor. They’re bringing the gurney.
    I have to hurry. I insert one, then two of the bent paper clips into the lock on my cuffs. My arms are killing me, but I don’t have time to rest them. Gingerly I push one of the wires around in the lock, feeling it scrape against the lock’s interior until it finally hits the tumbler. I twist the paper clip, pushing the tumbler aside.
    “DesCon’s on their way with some backup,” one soldier murmurs. As he says it, I move the second paper clip and hear the pin in the lock give a tiny, almost imperceptible click. Two soldiers and a nurse wheel the gurney into my room, stop for a moment inside the doorway, then roll it in my direction. The lock on my chains opens—I feel the cuffs coming off my hands with a soft clank. One soldier fixes milky blue eyes on me and pulls his thick lips into a frown. He notices the subtle change in my expression, and heard the clicking sound as well. His eyes flick to my arms.
    If I’m going to make a break for it, now’s my only chance.
    Suddenly I twist to the side of the bed and jump off. The chains fall back into the bed and my feet hit the floor. Dizziness hits me like a wall of water, but I manage to keep it at bay. The soldier with his gun pointed at me shouts out a warning, but he’s too slow. I kick out at the gurney as hard as I can—it topples over, taking down one soldier with it. Another soldier grabs at me, but I duck and manage to slip out of his grasp. My eyes focus on the balcony.
    But there are still three soldiers standing over there. They rush at me. I avoid two of them, but the third catches me around my shoulders and wraps an arm across my neck. He throws me down, knocking the breath out of me. I struggle frantically to free myself.
    “Stay down!” one exclaims, while another tries to snap a new set of cuffs on my wrists. He lets out a howl as I twist around and sink my teeth deep into his arm.
    No good. I’m captured, I’m arrested.
    Suddenly the balcony’s glass door shatters into a million pieces. The soldiers spin around, bewildered. Everything is whirling. In the midst of shouts and footsteps, I see two people breaking into the room from the balcony. One’s a girl I recognize.
Kaede?
I think incredulously.
    The other is Day.
    Kaede kicks one soldier in the neck—Day barrels into the soldier holding me down and knocks him to the floor. Before anyone can react, Day’s up again. He grabs my hands and yanks me to my feet.
    Kaede’s already at the balcony ledge. “Don’t shoot them!” I hear a soldier call out behind us. “They’re valuable property!” Day rushes us onto the balcony, then leaps onto the railing’s ledge in one bound. He and Kaede try to pull me upright as two other guards run toward us.
    But I start sinking to my knees. My sudden burst of energy is no match for my lingering illness—I’m too weak. Day jumps back down from the ledge and kneels beside me. Kaede lets out a whoop, tackling one of the soldiers to the ground. “See you there!” she yells back at us. Then she rushes inside the room amid all the confusion, throwing the guards off. I see her slip out of their grasp and vanish down the corridor.
    Day takes my arms, then wraps them around his neck.
“Don’t let go.”
When he straightens, I tighten my legs around him and cling to his back as hard as I can. He climbs onto the balcony ledge, boots crunching through broken glass, and leaps onto the outcropping that wraps around the second floor. Immediately I understand where we’re going. We’re all heading for the