The Girl Who Dared to Stand by Bella Forrest

Author:Bella Forrest [Forrest, Bella]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Nightlight
Published: 2017-09-18T05:00:00+00:00

15

The hall was straight and gray, with harsh overhead lights that burned like beacons. Breaks in the wall came at regular intervals, as did intersections—three doors every ten feet, followed by a hall running across the one we were in. Every door had a plaque over it with a description and room number. Most of the doors led to server farms like the one we had just emerged from, with three separate entrances, presumably to help workers access damaged areas quickly.

Then suddenly the doors just stopped, as did the intersections.

“What is this?” I asked softly, as we passed by the smooth, uninterrupted wall.

“The mineral farms must start here,” Quess replied. “I’ve never been inside, but I’ve heard they’re huge.”

“This isn’t good. There’s nowhere to go if someone recognizes us through these disguises,” Grey pointed out, and I looked back at him. His hair had been modified to black, and his eyes were now a muddled blue, their original brown too rich to block out entirely. But his strong jawline and features were remarkable—possibly still enough to identify him. We just had to pray our transformations were extreme enough for no one to really notice.

We continued forward… and then suddenly heard the noise of someone’s footsteps coming from ahead. My heartbeat increasing, I took a chance and glanced over Quess’s shoulder. A man carrying a large flat pad was walking toward us, the gray of his uniform stark under the harsh lighting.

He looked up at us, and I ducked behind Quess, my heart trembling in my chest. It looked like our disguises were going to be tested a lot more quickly than I had hoped.

I tried to shake off the anxiety that was suddenly threating to tear apart my calm façade, and just focused my eyes on Quess’s back. We had our plan, and it was a good one.

Yet the logical side of my brain was at odds with my heart, which began to beat even harder, using the inside of my ribcage like the drums at a harvest celebration. The steps were loud, clicking rhythmically in a way that made my eye start twitching and my hands ball up into fists.

Suddenly Quess veered off to one side, and I got a flash of the man walking toward us. His eyes passed right through me, and then he was gone, moving past us.

I twisted my head and peered over my shoulder, watching him go. He didn’t so much as pause or look back, and then he was gone.

But it didn’t feel like he was. My hands were shaking and slightly sweaty, while my muscles seemed to twitch and jerk under my skin. I kept expecting something to happen, the other shoe to drop, and the farther we moved away from the man, the worse it started to feel. Like the second half of a sentence that was slow in coming, and the anticipation was killing you, because you knew that whatever was said was going to hurt no matter what.

It took

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