Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 117246 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117246 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Shiloh tackled him, allowing me to dive into the light with the girl. We huddled with the others, her struggles over. I attempted to slow my breathing as I’d been taught. In, out. In, out.
I’d done it. I’d helped the child. A sense of accomplishment straightened my spine.
Three heavily armed lords and a knight rounded a corner and rushed to take charge. I watched, transfixed, as the knight slammed into the combatants, who were grappling each other for dominance. Shiloh stopped fighting, allowing a lord to press the end of a weapon to the back of his head while the knight immobilized the maddened with a metal net. I imagined myself among their ranks, capable and confident in my ability . . . and okay, yes, I kinda liked it. Hardly seemed possible, though.
A voice rang out over a speaker. “You have been exposed to the Madness. As mandated by Ourland law, you are remanded into custody to undergo immediate testing for the safety and well-being of the public. Until you are cleared, you have no rights. Say you understand your lack of choice as I have explained it.”
“I understand,” Shiloh responded, calm.
I closed my eyes for a moment. Poor guy. I’d been there, done that.
The little girl vaulted from my arms and raced toward her fallen mama, only to be snatched by a lord. I didn’t move, my gaze on Shiloh, who peered in my direction. His calm never wavered, his eyes seeming to say I’m good. There’s nothing to worry about. I wish our date had a better ending.
I wished the same. For a little while, I’d enjoyed the peace I usually only found in gardening. All because of a sweet, brave medic who might spend the next year of his life withering away as he combated a disease he’d acquired while aiding a helpless woman.
Life wasn’t fair.
“If you had no physical contact with the infected, leave,” the cold, commanding voice declared. “If you had contact, stay where you are and wait for a lord to speak with you. Be advised, security footage is being reviewed now, and we will hunt you down if you lie.”
I hung around to inform a soldier the maddened had touched my hair, but I was quickly dismissed. With no other choice, I walked away. I kept my gaze on Shiloh until the last possible second. He no longer had a weapon pointed at his head, but he was kept seated on the ground, with his arms cuffed behind his back.
If only I could tell him I wished our date had ended better too. That I prayed he was right and we bumped into each other again someday.
When I turned a corner, he vanished from sight. Saddened, I set a course for home.
Chapter Three
Be bold enough to let go of your past so you can grab hold of your future.
—The Book of Soal 2.11.3.13
“For the love of—open, just open!”
The irritated voice penetrated my haze of shock, and I blinked, realizing I stood at my front door. Home already? I must’ve gotten lost in my head and slipped into autopilot.
Four doors down the dingy hallway, Mr. Garfield beat at his door, attempting to enter the apartment without success.
We lived in a more-than-slightly run-down storm shelter from Theirland. The concrete-like walls kept us safe from the maddened who ruled the night, amid a darkness so thick it could be felt. Each floor contained eighteen dwellings as well as designated common areas, where families and building friends could shop, eat together, play games, or just hang out after curfew. The edifice, like most other apartments, acted as its own town.
Mr. Garfield glanced my way and feigned nonchalance. “Hi, Arden. It’s good to see you.”
I nodded a stiff greeting at him. He didn’t ask for my help, and I didn’t offer. I’d heard he was spotted staring at the Rock, and his current predicament seemed to prove it.
I pressed my palm against my dented keypad. The chip in the heel of my thumb registered, and the door bolt released. As swiftly as possible, I soared inside. Mom wouldn’t be home from work until closer to curfew—just before sunset. I could use the time to figure out how best to present my new career path.
“Surprise!” Mom jumped in front of me, pretended to blow a horn, and tossed a handful of confetti into the air. As the sprinkles rained to our cracked floor, she noticed my mental state and paled. Her grin faded. “You didn’t get in.”
The exit shut behind me, and air deflated from my entire being. “Someone broke.”
“But you survived.” She rushed over to hug me. “That’s what matters.”
I hugged her back, as surprised as ever by her frailty.
“Did you get into the Center at least?” she asked.
“I did,” I replied, unwilling to disrespect her with a lie.