CHAPTER TWO
Beams sat in the back of a large prison van, his wrists and ankles chained together. His head hurt, because the man who had arrested him—who called himself Malcolm Rayner, apparently a soldier in the United States army—had slammed the butt of his gun over the back of Beams’ head when Beams tried to escape him in Central Park earlier. Even with his helmet, the blow had hurt, which was one of the reasons Beams had put up so little resistance when Malcolm ordered him, Hypno, and a girl apparently named Lauren into the back of a heavily armored van.
That had been about half an hour ago. Though the van lacked windows, Beams could feel every vibration and bounce of the van under his seat as the vehicle made its way to who-knows-where. Beams tried to ask Malcolm where he was taking
