Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Another hiss, this one closer.
I find another corner, then another in quick succession. Am I going in a circle? I don’t know. All I know is that if I stop, I’m done. They’ll catch me, and I don’t know if their orders are to kill me or drag me to Carlotta.
My steps are too loud, even the scrape of my skin along the rock a burst of unnecessary sound. They’ll hear me. I know they’ll hear me, but I have to keep moving. If I can reach David, or somehow find a place to hide, Valen will reach me. The thought hits me with a steely certainty—Valen will come for me. I just have to stay alive long enough.
I turn another corner, the faintest light glowing down a long corridor. The landings, that must be where the light is coming from. Out in the main area of the castle. I break into a run, my heart pounding as I race toward the pale glow.
A shadow passes in front of it, and I skid to a stop.
“There she is.” Carlotta’s voice. “Just the rat I was looking for.” She strides toward me.
I back away, then dart down a side hall, then another. Turn after turn until I’m standing somewhere I’ve been before. This is where I discovered the black hole, the place where I might’ve gone if Valen hadn’t caught me.
“I can hear your heartbeat,” Carlotta’s voice is razor wire, shredding any rationality I might have. The only thought that remains is escape. I have to get away from her. But the darkness ahead of me is so absolute, so impossibly black that I wonder if it’s some sort of trick or a layer of midnight velvet. “I can’t wait to taste it,” she taunts.
“Fuck you!” I yell, my voice raw with hate.
Carlotta only laughs as she moves in for the kill. She’ll be on me at any moment.
“Georgia.” A voice. Not Carlotta’s. “Georgia, I hear you.”
I gasp, a tremor going through me as I clutch my hands to my chest.
“Come this way,” she whispers. “Don’t be afraid.”
“Another victim? Is that what I hear?” Carlotta is closer now. “How many humans does Valen keep in this bomb shelter?”
“Georgia, now! Hurry!”
I put a hand into the black, then step forward, my heart quaking as I follow the sound of my sister’s voice.
27
Recovered Journal of Dr. Georgia Clark
June 18, Year 1, Emergence Era
I don’t know what I’m doing. This … romance, if that’s what it is, is ill-advised. It can’t happen. It’s not a thing. I keep telling myself that, but then he touches me, and I’m a puddle. It’s been so long since I’ve felt cared for, since I’ve felt this sort of … want. I’m always concerned with needs—we need more samples, we need the lights to stay on, we need a cure. But when I’m with him, just us, there is only bare, raw, aching want.
The black is syrupy horror, as if there are webs strewn across the corridor, each of them holding me back a bit more.
“Juno?” I call, then clap my mouth closed at the bitterness on my tongue. As if the darkness has a taste.
There’s nothing. I’m in the center of a black hole, gravity pulling everything to me. Moments away from being crushed, wadded up like a piece of paper. It’s hard to breathe as I stumble forward, my hands in front of me again searching for something whole.
I could turn back, but Carlotta is there waiting for me. Will she enter this darkness? Maybe she can see through it, though I know it’s not a normal lack of light. There’s something different about this, something that keeps pushing against me, silently telling me to go away. Screaming ‘danger’ at a fever pitch without making a sound.
The black turns even more corporeal, strands of it between my outstretched fingers and catching around my throat. I tear at myself, ripping the threads away as I push even deeper. Juno is here. It’s been so long since I’ve heard her voice, but I’d know it anywhere. No matter how much time has passed. I know my sister.
The walls close in, the velvet strands turning more solid. I strain, forging ahead though everything tries to repel me. My foot catches on something, and I fall forward, my hands scraping along the stone floor. I smell blood.
Crawling now, I bow my head and use my shoulders. The claustrophobia is only second to my fear of Carlotta. I could suffocate here, my lungs clogged with this black substance. But that’s still a better death than whatever Carlotta has planned.
I take in a breath through gritted teeth. Still crawling, I almost fall forward when the strands ease. I keep going, my movements less restricted, the walls fading away, the velvet growing thinner. Moving faster now, my palms and knees aching from the unforgiving stone, I get back to my feet. The blackness clears, and ahead there’s a glow. Daylight? I knock that thought away. I’m far too deep underground. Still, I break free of the last bits of black web and jog toward it.