The Reflections by E. K. Seaver

Author:E. K. Seaver [Seaver, E. K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ember Ink Press
Published: 2022-04-07T16:00:00+00:00

20

“So, we’re next for the physical testing, huh?” Nina sits across from me on one of the chairs, the hint of a smirk on her lips.

“Yeah. I guess so.” I expected grogginess after waking up from a two-hour nap, but I feel lightly refreshed.

She snorts. “Nice hair job, Michael.”

Michael, who sits a little farther down on the couch, nods. “Yep. Thanks.”

“Want to get them back for it?” One of Nina’s light brown eyebrows arches high, a strange color contrast to her blonde hair. The smirk grows larger. “Revenge is always fun.”

Nathaniel glances up from the book he got from who knows where. “Those who live by the sword perish by it.”

The phrase strikes a familiar chord, but I can’t place it.

He receives the slightest glance from Nina. “Dickens, right?”

“Eh.” He eyes her curiously. “No, it’s—”

“What kind of prank should we do?” Michael interrupts, pulling his legs into a crisscrossed position and running a hand through his multi-hued hair. “I got a lot of weird looks at breakfast.”

“You’d think they’d never seen dyed hair before.” Nina tosses her head as if flicking an imaginary ponytail from her shoulder. “I’m surprised it got light so quickly. Must have been highly concentrated.”

“Felt like it,” Michael mutters.

“Really? So it hurt?” She grins with a sly, ah-this-is-perfect expression.

“A little.” He shrugs. “Not bad.”

“Then let’s hurt them back.”

* * *

Dark shadows saturate the corners of the warehouse. Only Nina’s small flashlight pierces through the blackness. Vera was right; this place is huge.

Something sounds in the darkness. I squint, but it’s too dim to see. Fear insists there’s an unseen gun aimed at my head. I chew my lower lip. It’s okay… It’s all going to be okay. “Remind me again what we’re doing?”

“You’ll see, Em.” The same response as the past three times I’ve asked.

“And why am I here?” I cross my arms, awaiting the inevitable reply.

Michael’s voice echoes through the blackness. “To carry stuff.”

“Speaking of, hold this.” A hand reaches into the light, holding an object that looks vaguely like a gun.

I grab the—thing. It takes two hands to hold it properly. It’s heavier than a gun, although it’s shaped like one. A large one. But where the bullet should come out, a cylinder tapers to a point. A piece of metal as thick as my pinky and twice as long protrudes from the tip. There’s a plastic trigger on the back of it. My gaze flickers back to the beam of light and the ringing of metal coming from whatever they’re doing in the dark. “What is this?”

“Electric screwdriver.” Nina coughs twice. “You can use it to drill holes in concrete.”

My eyebrows furrow. “Why?”

“I dunno.” Her airy tone drips with sarcasm. “I guess someone needed to drill a hole in concrete, designed it, and made it. Somewhere in there they started selling their electric screwdrivers, forgot to come up with a creative name, and made lots of money out of it. Or no money, if someone smarter than them stole the design.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes.

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