The Astral Hacker (Cryptopunk Revolution Book 1) Brian Terenna (best novels to read to improve english txt) 📖

This is my last chance to escape, I realize in a flash. I won’t even be me after this. I’d normally want to plan for hours or even days, but there’s no more time. I lift my legs and drop my weight. My arms twist in pain, but the guards lose their grips at the unexpected move. I grab for the nearest guard’s dart gun, but the other guard pulls me back. I whip around and backhand him in the face. He stumbles but keeps hold. The first guard seizes my arms before I can strike again. I scream and thrash around in their strong grips. Bosu chuckles as they force me into the chair.

I struggle, trying to free myself until one of the guards presses a button. Metal clamps secure my arms. I kick his shin. He grunts and then forces my legs down and clamps them too.

Like a rabbit cornered by wolves, I’m in full panic mode. My eyes dart around the courtyard as I look for anything that could save me.

“This machine won’t do any physical damage, but it will convince your mind that you are in intense pain,” says Bosu as he attaches grape-sized brain-interfaces to either side of my head. “Now brace yourself. This should be fun.”

The guards step back, and Bosu programs something into a panel on the chair. Shredding pain slices through me. I seize and twitch, incapable of anything else. After a moment, it cuts off. I slump forward, dazed and unable to form a single thought. After a while, I manage to suck in two shaky breaths. I’ve endured pain my entire life, but this was much worse than anything I could imagine.

At least, I’ll only have to go through it once before they take me over. There’s no way I could patch a backdoor in this state. I held out hope, no matter how slim, until now. The realization shatters my resolve, and my hope vanishes like smoke in a hurricane. Ever since I lost my sister, I’ve forced myself to be strong, to never break. Now, it’s over.

“How did you enjoy that?” asks Bosu.

I say nothing, too fractured to speak.

“Well, you’ll be happy to know that I’ve decided to do it forty-nine more times before installing the Evo. I’ll see you shortly, slave.”

No! Diablo, no. That’s it then. I’ve entered the final hell.

The chair sends a second wave of blinding pain surging through me and then another and another.

The cycles of unbearable pain and release hit me again and again. After each time, I can barely remember my name. Somehow, I just manage to keep count.

Forty-eight. Pain. Forty-nine. Pain. Fifty.

A guard walks toward me. All the others are gone. He holds a tiny device in his hands, the device that will end my humanity. The Evo.

The chair sends a final wave of rending pain through me. I gasp and seize. After it stops, I open my eyes to see the guard next to me. He secures my head with one hand, and his other approaches my temple with the Evo.

“No,” I manage to groan, but it doesn’t slow him. I desperately ready myself to rebuff their mind hacking, but I can barely focus. I try to twist my head away, but I have no strength.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the Evo only inches away now. No. No. No. My heart flutters wildly, my mind screaming.

There’s a bang, and the guard’s hand disappears in a spray of blood. He clutches at his wrist, howling, his face a mask of agony. There’s another bang, and his head explodes.

  CHAPTER 22

THE PLEDGE

Still dazed, I blink my eyes, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. Alexander lowers his smoking sniper rifle and sprints forward. Sunny bounces in a backpack that he wears. Nav runs next to them, her hand cannon ready.

At first, I’m elated that they lived, but my mood quickly crashes as I realize what’s about to happen.

Nooo. I failed them. Although my brain is still fried, I manage to say, “It’s a trap.”

Alexander motions his hand down. “We know. We’re prepared. And don’t worry about reinforcements coming. We jammed their communications.”

Relief flows through me like magical rejuvenating energy. And as if I’m reborn, my pain evaporates, and my spirits soar. What kind of insane plan does he have?

“Where’s Americus?” asks Nav.

My stomach drops. In my pain-induced haze of last night, I could almost pretend I didn’t mercy kill him. Now, I have to tell Nav. I swallow, feeling sick again. “He’s dead.”

She deflates. For a second, it looks like she’s going to cry, then fury ignites in her eyes and burns away her sadness. She scowls and jerks her head around, her hand raised like a claw, looking as if she wants to rip off heads.

I want to hold her and take away her pain. Instead, I sit uselessly, trapped in my chair. I doubt I could stand anyway.

Alexander’s jaw drops, his face draining of color. “He’s dead?” he asks as if he doesn’t believe it’s possible. He shakes his head. “No.”

Nav growls low.

It snaps Alexander out of his disbelief, and he grits his teeth before saying, “They’ll pay for this. Here, you’ll need these.” He puts ear balls into my ears and activates them. “Sit tight and recover. We’ve got his.”

The guards pour out of the buildings, many more than I thought were here, at least forty or fifty.

“This is for Americus,” yells Alexander. He throws a pouch that’s the size of an ammo box at his feet.

The guards raise their guns.

“Caesar,” he says into his q-link. “Let’s do this.”

The pouch expands into a transparent wall that’s ten times its size and has a small slit in the middle.

The guards open fire,