Justice Ascending by Rebecca Zanetti

Author:Rebecca Zanetti [Zanetti, Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-01-31T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

One little lie, and I felt the monster inside me break his chains.

—Tace Justice

Sami curled into her side, facing her window. She wanted to sleep, but memories kept attacking her. With a sigh, she forced herself to count sheep, and soon she was dreaming again.

The nightmare, inevitable as it was, slid right into another dream.

Two months after being taken to the Bunker in California, she continued fighting Spiral’s computer virus, which had taken longer than he’d no doubt planned to infiltrate so much software. She knew she wouldn’t be able to stop the shutdown, but she had to try. And all the while, the files she’d found earlier were burning through her brain.

Just what was this place?

Dr. Ramirez stalked into the room, his eyes tired, a white lab coat over his thinning frame. “Anything?”

She shook her head. “No. The Internet will go down.” She cleared her throat and concentrated on the man in charge of the Los Angeles facility. “I did find a couple of files on the laboratory area.”

His thin lips pursed. “None of your business.”

Her stomach ached. “The bodies you’ve burned . . . there are so many. How can—”

“Enough.” He glanced down at his watch. “Keep working.” Then he turned on his heel and exited the room.

She glanced back at the screen. “Apparently, you’ve forgotten what I do,” she whispered, typing furiously and finding the code within minutes. She stood and left the room, walking through sterile white hallways to the medical lab. A keypad was on the door.

“Sami?” George Bankel asked, looking up from a computer. “What’s up?”

She smiled at the former Harvard computer programming professor. “Just stretching my legs. You?”

The man glanced at his clock. “Ah. Time to pray. I’ll be back.”

She’d known it was his time to face Mecca, and she waited until he’d left her alone in the center. Many people had succumbed to Scorpius, so the hustle and bustle of the computer center had ebbed. She ran past the refrigerators holding icky-looking vials of dangerous stuff and to the keyboard, typing in the code she’d uncovered.

The wall opened.

A long hallway stretched before her, the floor concrete, the walls a stark white. Blue doors with windows were set every few yards.

Her legs trembled, but she moved forward and looked inside the first one. It was a room that looked like a jail cell with a cot, toilet, and sink. A woman sat against the far wall, her arm in a cast, bleeding pustules all over her face. She looked up, her brown eyes already dead. “Kill me,” she whispered.

Sami stumbled back. Voices roared around her, all from different cells. Several faces pressed against the small windows, bruised and bloody. Oh God. There were so many test subjects.

“Sami!” Greg Valentin ran for her, his gun in his pants. He was a guard in the center, and he’d become her friend. “What the hell?” He glanced quickly around, grabbed her arm, and dragged her back into the computer room before shutting the door. “Are you crazy? They’ll kill you for going in there.

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