Tahereh Mafi - Unite Me

First published in USA 2014 by HarperCollins Children’s Books

First published in Great Britain 2019

by Electric Monkey, an imprint of Egmont UK Limited

The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN

Published by arrangement with HarperCollins Children’s Books,

a division of HarperCollins Publishers, New York, New York, USA

Destroy Me: Text © 2012 Tahereh Mafi

Fracture Me: Text © 2013 Tahereh Mafi

Juliette’s Journal: Text © 2014 Tahereh Mafi

First e-book edition 2019

ISBN 978 1 4052 9624 3

Ebook ISBN 978 1 4052 9625 0

www.egmont.co.uk

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Stay safe online. Any website addresses listed in this book are correct at the time of going to print. However, Egmont is not responsible for content hosted by third parties. Please be aware that online content can be subject to change and websites can contain content that is unsuitable for children. We advise that all children are supervised when using the internet.

Egmont takes its responsibility to the planet and its inhabitants very seriously. We aim to use papers from well-managed forests run by responsible suppliers.

Cover

Title page

Copyright First published in USA 2014 by HarperCollins Children’s Books First published in Great Britain 2019 by Electric Monkey, an imprint of Egmont UK Limited The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN Published by arrangement with HarperCollins Children’s Books, a division of HarperCollins Publishers, New York, New York, USA Destroy Me: Text © 2012 Tahereh Mafi Fracture Me: Text © 2013 Tahereh Mafi Juliette’s Journal: Text © 2014 Tahereh Mafi First e-book edition 2019 ISBN 978 1 4052 9624 3 Ebook ISBN 978 1 4052 9625 0 www.egmont.co.uk A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher. Stay safe online. Any website addresses listed in this book are correct at the time of going to print. However, Egmont is not responsible for content hosted by third parties. Please be aware that online content can be subject to change and websites can contain content that is unsuitable for children. We advise that all children are supervised when using the internet. Egmont takes its responsibility to the planet and its inhabitants very seriously. We aim to use papers from well-managed forests run by responsible suppliers.

Destroy Me

Prologue PROLOGUE I’ve been shot. And, as it turns out, a bullet wound is even more uncomfortable than I had imagined. My skin is cold and clammy; I’m making a herculean effort to breathe. Torture is roaring through my right arm and making it difficult for me to focus. I have to squeeze my eyes shut, grit my teeth, and force myself to pay attention. The chaos is unbearable. Several people are shouting and too many of them are touching me, and I want their hands surgically removed. They keep shouting “Sir!” as if they’re still waiting for me to give them orders, as if they have no idea what to do without my instruction. The realization exhausts me. “Sir, can you hear me?” Another cry. But this time, a voice I don’t detest. “Sir, please, can you hear me—” “I’ve been shot, Delalieu,” I manage to say. I open my eyes. Look into his watery ones. “I haven’t gone deaf.” All at once the noise disappears. The soldiers shut up. Delalieu looks at me. Worried. I sigh. “Take me back,” I tell him, shifting, just a little. The world tilts and steadies all at once. “Alert the medics and have my bed prepared for our arrival. In the meantime, elevate my arm and continue applying direct pressure to the wound. The bullet has broken or fractured something, and this will require surgery.” Delalieu says nothing for just a moment too long. “Good to see you’re all right, sir.” His voice is a nervous, shaky thing. “Good to see you’re all right.” “That was an order, Lieutenant.” “Of course,” he says quickly, head bowed. “Certainly, sir. How should I direct the soldiers?” “Find her,” I tell him. It’s getting harder for me to speak. I take a small breath and run a shaky hand across my forehead. I’m sweating in an excessive way that isn’t lost on me. “Yes, sir.” He moves to help me up, but I grab his arm. “One last thing.” “Sir?” “Kent,” I say, my voice uneven now. “Make sure they keep him alive for me.” Delalieu looks up, his eyes wide. “Private Adam Kent, sir?” “Yes.” I hold his gaze. “I want to deal with him myself.”

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Fracture Me

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Juliette’s Journal

JULIETTE’S JOURNAL

I’ve been shot.

And, as it turns out, a bullet wound is even more uncomfortable than I had imagined.

My skin is cold and clammy; I’m making a herculean effort to breathe. Torture is roaring through my right arm and making it difficult for me to focus. I have to squeeze my eyes shut, grit my teeth, and force myself to pay attention.

The chaos is unbearable.

Several people are shouting and too many of them are touching me, and I want their hands surgically removed. They keep shouting “Sir!” as if they’re still waiting for me to give them orders, as if they have no idea what to do without my instruction. The realization exhausts me.

“Sir, can you hear me?” Another cry. But this time, a voice I don’t detest.

“Sir, please, can you hear me—”

“I’ve been shot, Delalieu,” I manage to say. I open my eyes. Look into his watery ones. “I haven’t gone deaf.”

All at once the noise disappears. The soldiers shut up. Delalieu looks at me. Worried.

I sigh.

“Take me back,” I tell him, shifting, just a little. The world tilts and steadies all at once. “Alert the medics and have my bed prepared for our arrival. In the meantime, elevate my arm and continue applying direct pressure to the wound. The bullet has broken or fractured something, and this will require surgery.”

Delalieu says nothing for just a moment too long.

“Good to see you’re all right, sir.” His voice is a nervous, shaky thing. “Good to see you’re all right.”

“That was an order, Lieutenant.”

“Of course,” he says quickly, head bowed. “Certainly, sir. How should I direct the soldiers?”

“Find her,” I tell him. It’s getting harder for me to speak. I take a small breath and run a shaky hand across my forehead. I’m sweating in an excessive way that isn’t lost on me.