Gerald nodded at me and held out his hand. “We’re going to run.”
My heart quaked at words I had waited my entire life to hear.
“Gerald, you won’t involve her. You have orders,” Hal interrupted, grabbing my arm.
“You’re not the only one afraid of losing people,” Gerald said, his hand finding mine.
I yanked away from Hal, bumping into the frame he had brought in. It fell to the floor.
The mismatched woman with the book sat there, in all her beauty. Her broken form. The painting I had seen beauty in despite her fractured image. I hadn’t been able to see it in myself until Hal helped me find it. Only to destroy it.
Another onslaught of torment rampaged through me. It only served to solidify my decision.
“You can’t go, Emeline,” Hal stated. “He’ll kill you if you’re caught.”
“That’s my decision to make.” I turned to Gerald and said, “Run. I can keep up.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
“HOW HURT IS HAL STILL?”I ASKED THROUGH LABOREDbreaths.
My lungs burned as Gerald held my hand tightly, pulling me left and right as we sprinted through the dark tunnels, each step tucking the hurt away, burying it somewhere I wouldn’t be able to find it.
“He punctured a lung when he got hurt. He can’t keep up,” Gerald told me, turning at the last second. I blindly followed him.
“Good,” I grunted. I didn’t want him to follow us.
A ding sounded from Gerald’s pants pocket. “Fuck. Fuck.”
“What?”
“Messages mean the lower systems are rebooting. We’re running out of time.”
“Run faster,” I urged. Gerald didn’t look back. He began to sprint, his hand sweaty in mine.
My recurring dream found me as we ran through the dark, our footsteps thundering through the tunnels, the only sound besides our heavy breaths, the pace too demanding for conversation.
His Comm Device sounded again as we skidded to a stop outside the door I had entered from.
He punched a code into a panel on the wall. The door slowly began to move.
“I was really hoping that wouldn’t work. Help me,” Gerald panted as he forced the door open.
I threw my weight into the door, and it inched open enough for us to slip through. Gerald released the door and pulled me in after him. The room was empty. A golden flash filled the room, but when I looked down, my wrist was dark again.
“Come on, we’re almost out of time,” Gerald commanded.
I followed, too out of breath to talk as Gerald darted down the hall and into a room on the opposite side, near the elevator. A panel lay on the floor.
A small circular hole sat exposed, revealing a narrow crawl space. Gerald stuck his head in. “Barrett,” he called. He whistled in a song-like way.
No one answered.
Gerald thrust a black cube into my hand. “Keep this safe. Climb the chute, then take the middle tunnel. Go straight. When it dips, go slow. You’re going to get to a circular room. Do not leave the tunnel. There’s a huge metal device in there. It powers the chips. Toss this onto the device. Then get out quick so I can activate it.”
Gerald knelt before the opening, his hands outstretched, waiting to help me in. A million questions raged. Why was this here? Had they always known about it? Why put something so vital on a floor with Minors? What did the cube do? How did Gerald know how to work it?
“Emeline, look at me.” I turned toward him. “I can’t answer your questions right now. We are out of time. If the power grid comes back up, everyone out there could be lost, those with chips tracked. The rebellion will fail. I need you to do what I said or move so I can try. I promise I will come back and answer your questions. Just go. Please. I need your help.”
