Chapter Fourteen #2
I wait until most of the others have left before making for the door.
My movements are deliberate and unhurried, despite the urgency building inside me.
My week is almost up, and I’m certain the Commander is going to dismiss me from the team.
Send me back to a world where I don’t officially exist, declaring my mission a failure.
I can’t walk away with nothing.
Once the corridor by my quarters is clear, I turn on my heel and travel the opposite direction. I’ve only been permitted on two underground levels, but if the Enforcers keep records on anything, it will be below that. The more restricted areas will hold valuable information.
My steps move with purpose, keeping their pace steady as they descend dozens of stairs.
At the seventh landing, the opportunity I’ve been waiting for presents itself when two Enforcers ahead of me walk through a sliding door after one presses his palm to the scanner.
As the door begins its automated closing sequence, I time my approach perfectly, slipping in behind them with footsteps so silent they register nothing but the sound of the door’s pneumatic hiss.
The room beyond is dim, lit by the blue glow of dozens of terminals and screens lining the walls.
It’s some kind of monitoring station or data hub, far more sophisticated than anything I’ve seen in the areas accessible to recruits.
The air tastes different here—cooler, with an undertone of ozone from the electronics.
I creep through the deepest shadows, sparing glances at the Enforcers who entered before me and are focused on a console at the far end of the room. I have perhaps minutes before they turn around or someone else enters.
My eyes scan the displays quickly. Most show security feeds, status reports, or technical jargon I don’t understand.
But one screen near the center of the room catches my attention, its display different from the others.
Rather than scrolling data or surveillance footage, the words on the screen raise hair along my arms.
TRANSFER ORDERS — PRIORITY LEVEL 1
My stomach clenches. The following text is small but legible from where I stand.
SUBJECTS: 17 FEMALE, 3 JUVENILE
ORIGIN: HOLDING FACILITY 2, PYREM
DESTINATION: RIVERTON
DEPARTURE: 0400 HOURS, DATE CODE 1207
AUTHORIZATION: SYNDICATE DIRECTIVE 892-A
Air catches in my throat. These women are being transferred to the Riverton breeding facility—the Gilded Farm. Supposedly the most humane of the facilities, though that’s a miniscule comfort considering what happens within its walls.
The date code indicates tomorrow. And there’s nothing I can do to aid them.
Unless…
Are there not several locations indicated for the escapee activity? If the Enforcers know their general locations, maybe I could somehow get a message to them.
But how? Even if I knew where they are, I have no way to contact anyone outside this facility, no allies I can trust with this knowledge. I could attempt contacting Lachlan, though it’s not like he’s able to leave the house without risking both our lives.
Pausing a moment to grieve for these women, I mentally file away every detail on the screen. Even if I can’t act now, I might find a use for it later. Every piece of intelligence is a potential weapon, if wielded correctly.
A soft hiss greets my ears, and I whirl, my hand hovering the knife secured at my belt. A figure stands at the entrance, foreboding in their presence. I don’t know whether to feel relieved or horrified that Elias is the one who strides into the room.
He stalks over with a slow, predatory grace that forces me to chew on my lip to keep from fidgeting. The two Enforcers at the console still haven’t noticed either of us, their attention focused on their work.
Elias’ golden-green eyes flicker to the screen I was just examining.
Then back to me.
I expect accusations. Demands for explanation. Perhaps even immediate arrest or dismissal.
But he doesn’t say anything.
Oh fuck he’s going to kill me…I’m so stupid.
The pressure in my chest builds as I hold a breath, suspended in a moment of uncertain fate. My mind races, calculating escape routes, excuses, potential weapons—all useless in this contained space against a trained Enforcer who outranks me.
He nods, an almost imperceptible gesture. “I won’t ask what you’re doing here.” His voice is low enough that it doesn’t carry to the others.
Then, just like that, he spins on his heel and walks away.
The door opens and closes once more, releasing him as swiftly as it had admitted him.
With a sharp exhale, I swallow around the pounding racing from my head. What just happened? Why would he see me somewhere I clearly shouldn’t be, accessing information I have no authorization to view, and simply leave?
It’s a trap. He’s waiting outside to uncover what I’ll do next.
Or does he genuinely not care about my unauthorized presence?
What was that saying I read about once? When life hands you lemons and all that.
Well, I’m not one to waste such an opportunity, and if the stars see fit to grant me this, then I will walk away and pretend like nothing happened.
As I rush from the room, I scan the other screens for any additional useful information, nothing standing out as immediately valuable. I have more than I came here with, and that’s a start.
A poorly executed one, but a start nonetheless.
The sliding door reveals an empty landing beyond. No Elias. Convenient he found himself in the same room at the same time, though he did nothing but dismiss me before leaving.
I shake my arms out as I hurry back to my room, my mind racing with possibilities. Were those women being transferred from another facility or were they found outside the perimeter?
And the juveniles…my stomach sours. The inner workings of the facilities are widely kept secret, likely for security concerns, but I can’t imagine how scared all the children must be, witnessing what happens to their mothers and knowing there’s nothing they can do to stop that from happening to them when they reach a certain age.
Every day here is a challenge that pushes me further into my own insecurities, but this is what I need to keep reminding myself of. They are why I’m here.
But what I ignorantly didn’t consider before joining this team was how I would help. I can gather all the information in the world, but how do I act on it, trapped within these walls, surrounded by enemies, with no connection to the outside world?
Frustration burns like acid in my veins, and I’m so absorbed in my thoughts that I almost miss the figure waiting beside my door when I finally return to the recruits’ quarters.
Kellen leans against the wall opposite my room, arms crossed over his chest, insignia glinting in the light. His posture is relaxed, but there’s no mistaking the deliberate nature of his presence. He’s waiting for me.
My heart sinks. Did Elias report me after all?
I yearn to sprint in the opposite direction—to finally admit how foolish this whole thing was and make it back home before they catch me. Because if they do, I will face the consequences with the same defiance that brought me here in the first place.
“Ashford,” Kellen acknowledges as I stop before him. “You weren’t in the dining hall, so I came to inform you of a change in schedule today. Tactical room three, ten minutes.” His tone reveals nothing of his thoughts.
“Yes, sir.” I’m so relieved I almost sink to the floor in a puddle of stress tears.
Not an arrest, then. At least not yet.
The leader pushes from the wall, his movement fluid and controlled.
He studies me for a moment longer than necessary, his gaze seeming to penetrate every bit of armor I wear.
“You’re improving,” he remarks. “But you need to work on your defensive posture, it’s a bit frantic.
” A pause. “And be more careful about which doors you walk through.”
My blood freezes. He knows. Maybe not everything, but enough. How?
“I don’t know what you mean, sir.” My voice is far steadier than I feel as the walls tilt.
He makes a soft sound—not quite a laugh. “Of course not.” He steps past me, his shoulder nearly brushing mine. “Ten minutes, Ashford. Don’t be late.”