My footsteps thudded heavily against the floors, chest tight and lungs burning as I ran. A hand was gripped in mine. Warm and sweaty. I knew I couldn’t hold her much longer.
Still we ran, and still I pulled her along behind me.
There was no light aside from the occasional flash of red. I could smell smoke from somewhere. Hear screaming. Hands reached out for me as I ran down the hallway that only grew longer and longer as I ran. Nails raked against my skin. Something caught my foot and I stumbled.
Another flash of light was accompanied by the blare of a siren. The ground under my feet was uneven now. Definitely no longer in the bunker. The smoke was growing thicker and the air was hotter.
Her hand was slipping through mine before I could do anything to stop it.
“Rowan!”
I whirled around, but she was already too far behind. Two men towered on either side of her. Faceless, aside from the golden emblem on their uniforms. Soldiers. The guns aimed at Sage were unwavering as I threw myself forward. But I couldn’t get to her. She was too far away. Something cold and hard tightened around my wrists, hauling me backwards. I hit the ground with a thud, kicking up a cloud of dust.
Above me, a burning orange sky stared down at the scene and in the distance, a blazing city became our backdrop. Though the burning city of New York was familiar, the surroundings were not. Dust and dirt sprawled for miles and a scorching sun remained high in the sky.
When I lifted my head again, the two men were gone and all that remained was a pile of charred and mangled corpses, blackened beyond any recognition. Smoke curled up into the air and from a haunting cackle sounded from somewhere behind me. I couldn’t turn to look at who it was; the metal around my wrists only tightened and hauled me further back each time I moved.
But then the figure emerged from behind me, hands clasped tightly behind her back and holding herself as though this were a joyous occasion altogether. “My dear Miss Vanderwaal,” Meredith Blackthorn all but purred.
She rounded the pile of corpses which had now begun to move. They were slow and jerking movements, all of which the Commander Sergeant seemed to remain unaware of.
“Didn’t I warn you that there was a spy in our midst? Such a shame, really.” The woman came to a halt behind the pile of writhing corpses, cold eyes staring down at me from a distance. “Maybe if you had been a little smarter, you could have prevented this.”
The pressure around my wrists had disappeared in an instant and I threw myself forward, clambering across the wasteland. Each desperate step only put them further and further away, high up on a hill of sand. I couldn’t get there, but there was screaming in the air. Begging. Pleading. Sage. I had to get there and I couldn’t.
By the time I’d nearly reached the top, a hand had appeared over the edge. Charred fingers reached out to me, blackened and cracked at the joints, but I couldn’t stop myself from reaching up regardless. The moment her fingers curled around my wrist, her voice met my ears as a hiss. “Save me,” the voice cried. “Why aren’t you helping? Why did you let this happen?”
The fingers crumbled, disintegrating under my grip and before I could grab onto anything else, I was being thrown back down that hill of sand. The scorching grains had swallowed me whole before I even hit the bottom.
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I shot up in bed with my heart pounding and sweat clinging to my skin. The sight of those corpses still remained in my mind, as though I hadn’t actually managed to wake up. Their blackened fingers and unhinged jaws… I didn’t remember if I’d dreamt beyond being swallowed by sand, but the nausea that still choked me had told me that it didn’t matter.
The dream had continued swirling through my mind, toeing the line between forgotten and remembered. It was all blurred faces and voices by the time I scrambled to my feet, catching myself against the wall.
Cold air immediately hit my damp skin, and I raked a hand through my thick waves. Even they were matted with sweat. The blazing inferno of the city was long gone, as was the rest of the dream. But I wasn’t even so sure it had been the city I’d dreamt of.
How long had it even been since we’d been down here? A few weeks? A month maybe? I wasn’t so sure that mattered much, either. The bunker would be a coffin at the end of the day, if what Meredith had told me had any weight at all. And we were all good as dead. With the room around me already feeling enough like a coffin, I pushed myself off the wall. Sticking around there wasn’t going to help, and the trembling in my body hadn’t ceased. It wasn’t like I’d be getting sleep anytime soon, anyways, I’d reasoned with myself. Forcing it all to the back of my mind and telling myself that the shaking was from the cold, I grabbed my jacket up off the floor and shoes from beside the doorway.
I was pushing past the curtain and into the hallway before I even had them on..
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37. Mira le Roux.
The hallway was dim, long and dark on both sides of me. I didn’t know what time it was; I hadn’t bothered to check. But the quiet aside from the hum of the dimmed lights and distant purr of generators was plenty of indication that it was still night. Or early morning. Standing there in that endless hallway though, I’d found myself wondering exactly what I was doing there. It’d been what felt like years since I’d talked to Mira. Weeks of silence and stolen glances. Snide remarks and passive aggressive comments about her happy family.
Who said I was any better than Lydia’s unruly kid?
Yet at the end of the day, I’d lied to Sage about my encounter with Meredith. I’d lied about the spy and about the gravity of it all. It was a grave I’d dug myself, and now I was standing in the dark of that cold hallway in front of the curtain to the only person who’d actually listen to me. No matter what.
My teeth gnawed at my bottom lip, trying to ignore the tightness in my chest as I reached out. My fingers grazed against the rough fabric of the curtain, tugging it open an inch. The dim light from the fluorescents spilled into the small room, casting a gentle glow over the messy state of the small area.
While also illuminating the emptiness of it.
The curtain swung shut behind me as I stepped through the doorway. Her cot was empty; the messy blankets balled up at the foot of the bed and seemingly untouched. Both her letterman jacket and shoes were missing as well, and I let out the breath that had been held in my lungs from the moment I’d pulled back the curtain. Was it relief? Or defeat?
The tightness in my chest had worked its way up to my throat as I eased myself down onto the edge of her cot. Maybe, my mind offered, I could just wait for her to come back. And maybe I would. The thought of going back to my own room wasn’t exactly an idea I was finding myself very fond of in that moment. So with a shaking sigh, I leaned myself forward with my arms draped over my legs and eyes on the hard floor.
It didn’t take long for the white and glossy finish of a picture had caught my attention; pinned underneath my shoe. I shifted my foot, nudging it to the side. After all this time, the picture was as clear as it was the day it was taken. Even through the darkness, I could make out the familiar faces. If I tried hard enough, I could even remember the laughter ringing in my ears as the picture was taken and feel the scorching Arizona heat on my back. The last picture the four of us had taken together before Ryan went overseas.
I was picking it up before I could stop myself, flipping it over to look at the back. August, 2041. Only a few months after I’d met Sage. My thumb ran over our wide smiles as I flipped the picture back over to the front. And the last time I’d set foot in Arizona. The peeling tape over the corner came off with ease as I picked at it, absentmindedly.
My arm had been thrown around Sage’s shoulders and her lips were pressed against my cheek. I was giving her bunny ears, and she never even knew. Meanwhile, Mira was hanging off her brother, tongue sticking out far enough that her piercing glinted in the bright sunlight. Her other arm was linked tightly with mine as the four of us stood far too close for that kind of heat.
I tossed the picture on the cot beside me as though that would ease the pressure burning behind my eyes. Of course, it did nothing and I’d pushed myself up off the thin mattress. I was shoving my way back out into the empty hall before I even had the chance to process what I was doing or where I was going. All I knew was that I needed some distance between myself and the memories. The memories, the dreams, and the thoughts that all plagued my mind.
Just one lap through the halls, that’s all. It was easy to convince myself that I’d do just that. Just a walk, clear my head. Catch my breath. And then it became just until my eyes stopped burning.
Just until the tears dried.
Until the shaking was gone..
Until I didn’t know where I was anymore.
And before too long, that’s just where I’d found myself; surrounded by endlessly identical halls. I’d lost count of how many turns I’d made and how many corridors I’d ventured down. Every long stretch of hall looked exactly the same; the same faint glow of fluorescent lights and the same stretch of rooms on both sides. By the time I’d made another random turn, my eyes were flitting over the names and numbers that accompanied each room.
85. Dante Morales.
The eighty’s. That wasn’t too far from where my room was; I didn’t think so, at least. I kept my eyes on the room numbers as I walked, watching as the numbers became smaller and smaller.
83. Saoirse Kavanaugh.
81. Shada Rhodes.
79. Wyatt Vasquez.
I balked about halfway down the hall, glancing back over my shoulder down a few rooms. The small light outside the room flickered over the name and number. Shada Rhodes.
No way.
There was a tightness that settled in my chest as I tore my gaze away, sauntering further down the hallway and further away from room eighty-one. Whatever thoughts that had been attempting to creep into my mind were quickly shoved down. I could still feel those fingers gripping my wrist; a warning in itself. A warning to stay away. Not get involved. And yet, the conversations from the previous day still haunted me; every word of them.
In case the Russians come, and all that.
Lydia hadn’t answered me when I’d asked her about Meredith. Never told me anything about the spy. Had Meredith been lying about it? If she had been, what was the point? But what was the point in telling me to begin with? By the time I’d reached the end of the hall, I was whirling around before I had even realized what I was doing. I hadn’t wanted to entertain any of my thoughts, but the sheer relentlessness of them was quickly making that near impossible to do.
My fingers were gripping the edge of the curtain and tearing it back before I had the chance to talk myself down from whatever I was planning on doing. Which was absolutely nothing. No plan. No thought process. That didn’t matter though, I was calling out her name and striding into the room regardless.
“Shada,” I’d snarled at her, just loud enough to jerk the girl from her sleep.
That did the trick. The girl was awake almost immediately, dragging something out from under her pillow as she jumped to her feet. “What the fuck?” She hissed, stepping towards me in such a pointedly hostile manner that I staggered back a step. Amber eyes were wide and blazing, and my gaze flitted down to the object in her hand.
“Where did you-”
“What’re you doing here, Vanderwaal?” Her fingers turned the knife in her hand and that gaze never left mine. Though the moment it flitted me over, the girl let out a sigh and raked a hand through her hair and let her shoulders lower a bit. “You better have a damn good explanation for this.”
I watched as she turned her back to me, sauntering back towards her cot and tossing the knife back down on the mattress. “I want you to tell me what you know,” I finally forced myself to say. Shada looked over her shoulder at me, eyes narrowing and brows tugging together. I shifted in my place, folding my arms over my chest. “You know about the spy, don’t you.”
It wasn’t a question, and she knew it.
“That’s what this is about?” With a snort, she dropped herself back down onto her mattress and backed herself up against the wall. “Even if I did know something, why should I tell you?”
“Because you owe me, Rhodes.”
Footsteps sounded from out in the hall, moving the curtain slightly in the breeze that followed. Light spilled in long enough to catch the look on her face; the faintest upturn to her lips with one brow raised and piercing gaze on me again. The knife was back in her hands, turning absentmindedly between her fingers. “I owe you, huh?” Shada scoffed under her breath. “What makes you think I owe you anything?”
“Meredith seemed to think I was lying about the City.” I took a step forward, hitting something with my shoe and sending it rolling across the floor in the dark. “Plenty of others think the same. Wonder where they got that information from.” The silence stretched on and yet another person brushed past the doorway. This time, my gaze wandered over the mess along the floor; clothes and bullets were scattered along nearly every inch. “Every shitty thing you’ve said about Simone. About Mira. About-”
“Someone hacked the bunker’s system.” I snapped my mouth shut when she spoke. I could barely make out her figure on the bed, even with the gentle light slipping in from underneath the curtain. But it didn’t matter; her tone was just as casual as it would be had we been talking about the weather. “Dunno who. If we did, bunker wouldn’t have gone on lockdown. Security on the lower levels was toast. Lyd’s been assuming the worst, even if she doesn’t wanna admit it.”
“And Meredith?”
Shada let out another snort. I saw a vague wave through the darkness and I dared a cautious step forward. “Lyd’s had her suspicions for a while that something was up. Meredith came to essentially take over what Lydia’d been handling just fine on her own.”
“But she wasn’t.” I could feel the weight of her glare and I rolled my lips in. Still didn’t make much sense though. “So why tell me? Meredith said she didn’t think-”
“Because to her? You’re a nobody. Hell, she barely even sees Lydia as anything equal to her. You’re an ant, Vanderwaal. Just a number. Sixty-two, right?” I could hear the smirk in her tone and my eyes narrowed.
I shifted again, tugging down the sleeves of my jacket. Just a number. Just another number in yet another system bigger than ourselves. “And…you think that the spy’s goal is to what, bring the Russians to us?”
“What other reason would there be? We’ve got resources. Every bunker does. They’re winning; why not play a little game of cat and mouse while they’re at it?” I watched the silver blade glint in the dim light as she turned it over in her hands again.
“So what happens if they find us? What then?”
We’ll be sitting ducks, that’s what, my mind told me. The tightness in my chest had returned at the mere thought of it. Charred corpses and that same barren wasteland flashed through my mind and I screwed my eyes shut against the remnants of the nightmare. Shada’s silence following the question had done little to quell that rising anxiety and I forced myself to take a steadying breath. “Well?” I tried again, opening my eyes to level my gaze with hers through the dim light. I could see the glint of narrowed eyes as the curtain breezed open again. “So we’re just going to die, is that right?”
The coziest place to die.
Again, my words were met with silence and with an aggravated huff, I stalked back towards the curtain. It was a mistake coming here to begin with. What had I been thinking; that Shada of all people would be able to offer me some sort of help? Some perspective? Her answers hadn’t given me any insight into the spy. Nothing to go off and no ideas of what the bunker would be up against. Nothing to expect.
“Let me ask you this.” Her voice stopped me in my tracks. My fingers were curled in the curtain, and already in the process of pulling it open. I looked over my shoulder at her as light spilled into the room, illuminating every messy corner the space had to offer. Shada was on her feet now, knife discarded on the mattress and her eyes on me. “Why do you wanna know so bad? You gonna go charging out there and get involved in the military’s business? Save the bunker, be a hero or whatever?”
Her lips had curled back into a rather amused looking sneer. Heat prickled in my cheeks as I shot the girl a look. But she had a point, didn’t she? What would I do with any information she, or Lydia, might have given me? But it wasn’t anything like that. The nightmare was still fresh in my mind and just as sickening as it had been the moment I had opened my eyes.
“If you know something,” I hissed at her, “anything, I want you to tell me here and now. You owe me that much.”
“Please.” She bit out, folding her arms over her chest. “You really think I have anything left to tell you?”
The girl still towered over me a good few inches and had I been any smarter, I would’ve backed away then and there. Steely eyes were narrowed as always and locked on me. Instead, I shifted my gaze to the mess of bullets scattered haphazardly across the floor before looking back to Shada. “Don’t you?”
Her gaze had followed mine before she let out an aggravated growl, dropping her head to pinch the bridge of her nose. “Yeah, sure. Let me put my ass on the line for you,” she muttered under her breath. “Brilliant fuckin’ idea.” But I didn’t move. I wasn’t leaving and I made damn sure that she knew. Eventually, she let out a groan. “Fine,” Shada relented with a sigh. “I’ll help you out, Vanderwaal. But I swear if this gets out and Lyd gets in trouble-”
“I’m not getting anyone in trouble.”
Her eyes flitted over my face for several long seconds, clearly mulling over her options. Take it back, or take the risk. Though before I had the chance to say anything more, she broke the silence. “Better not.” She shifted her stance before nodding towards the doorway behind me. “Meet me at the mess hall in twenty minutes. And don’t you make me regret this.”
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It had taken that long for me to start second guessing all of this. What had I gotten myself into? I’d paced back and forth the length of one of the tables in the empty mess hall, letting the thoughts batter and mock me with each lap I made. The few rows of fluorescents that were still lit flickered dimly above me, the harsh glare reflecting off the floor as I walked. I counted the lights I stepped under. Counted the steps, counted the seconds that ticked by until they became minutes. Counted the tiles. The tables.
I’d had twenty minutes to change my mind. But when twenty minutes had passed and those doors eventually swung open, I knew I’d made my choice. The doors slammed against the walls behind them with a clang that echoed through the empty room, further accompanied by the heavy boot-steps against linoleum. They swung back shut behind the girl, turning her into a dim silhouette in the shadows. Now fully dressed in a plain black shirt and jeans, Shada regarded me as nothing more than a mere annoyance. “Well, Vanderwaal?” She spoke up. “Comin’ or what?”
And I did. I went with her, following the girl blindly with only the vague notion that she wasn’t about to get us both into even worse trouble than I’d already been in. The only time the silence had been broken was with muttered complaints under her breath and occasional shushes whenever footsteps sounded around a corner. All the while, there was an aggravated downturn to her lips and a certain look in her eyes that I couldn’t quite figure out.
Whether it be fortunately or unfortunately, I didn’t have the time to. We’d made it to whatever destination she was leading me to; down the same damned hallway that I’d been hauled off to the previous day. The moment the door at the bottom of the stairs unlocked with a low buzz and she pushed it open, I hesitated. She wasn’t really going to throwing me under the bus, was she? It wasn’t until she’d realized about halfway down the hall that I wasn’t with her that she finally paused, throwing a look over her shoulder at me.
“Not gonna get cold feet now, are you?” Despite the annoyed tone, there was the faintest of smirks on her lips. One that only seemed to grow when she followed the unconscious flitting of my gaze between her and the door that I was all too familiar with. With a quiet snort and the shake of her head, she continued her saunter further down the hall towards the final door.
Right.
Swallowing back the nerves that had started pooling in my stomach, I stepped past the doorway and followed her. Shada had already gotten the door unlocked and opened by the time I caught up with her. “Would it kill you to keep up?” She griped from where she was leaned against the open door. “You’re gonna get us both caught and then what?” I shot her a look as I stepped past and she released it, letting it fall shut and trapping us in the dark.
The lights were flicked on a moment later, illuminating the room with a quiet hum and revealing the massive safes that lined the walls. The room itself wasn’t exactly large by any means. If I were being honest, it looked all too similar to the changing room at a gym, aside from the safes. I took a few careful steps inside, though Shada had already broken away and was typing in yet another series of numbers into one of the safe’s keypads. 04122040. I tore my gaze away when the girl shot me a pointed look over her shoulder and I shifted my attention up to the names across the faces of each safe.
Lydia Cartwell. Of course.
“This is where the higher ups keep their weapons,” Shada eventually found it necessary to explain as the safe opened with a gentle click. “The spares, obviously. Wouldn’t be caught dead without some firearm on you.” The metal door opened with a groan and I inched myself around to glance inside. The only contents were one sleek, black rifle and a few boxes with gold lettering scrawled across the packaging. “And this-” Her lips stretched back into a grin as she retrieved the weapon, running her fingers along the side of it. “-is Lydia’s baby.”
It was far bigger and more advanced than any gun I’d ever seen before. Clearly military-issued. Definitely beat the hunting rifle my dad had growing up. And yet, she ran her fingers along it as though she knew every inch of it. There was an almost eager glint to her eyes as she shrugged the sling over her shoulder and dug out the few boxes from inside the safe.
“In there-” Shada nodded half heartedly towards the only other door in the room. “-is the firing range. Off limits to everyone but soldiers.” Once she’d gathered everything she needed, she whirled back around to face me. A smirk was twisting at the corners of her lips as she folded her arms over her chest. “And myself.”
“Against Meredith’s authorization, right?” I countered, watching as that smug look faltered.
With an annoyed grunt, she closed the door to the safe with a loud clang. “C’mon, Vanderwaal,” she muttered, adjusting the rifle over her shoulder. “Let’s just get this over with.”
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