Hello hello! I tried updating yesterday, but was too tired to continue writing (ugh, those swim practices are brutal), and so here you go! This chapter's a little short, and so I'll update ASAP hopefully by tomorrow to make up for it :) Enjoy!
Cowering backwards against the concrete wall, I stared up into the blinding light, looking at the outline of a large man. His arms were obviously well-trained – bulging muscles under his jacket, and he towered over me, his frame casting a bulky shadow in the ray. The man walked towards me, every contact his boots made with the floor clearly echoing around the empty room.
Wordlessly, he grabbed my arm, pulling them out of the warmth of my lap, and dragged me up from my stiff position. My legs could not hold themselves up, being scrunched up in the same position for who knows how long, and I dropped right back down onto the ground, hitting the hard surface with a painful thud. Grunting in pain, I hoist myself up again, using my arms to push me off the floor; trying to avoid any physical contact with the man.
He seemed to catch on to my train of thought, and walked out in a brisk pace, looking back occasionally to check if I was following. It was strange how the rebels didn't think to shackle me or at least keep me more guarded, but then maybe there was no way for me to escape, defeating the need for any form of extra security. I trudged along, getting my leaden legs to function and trying to warm myself up. In the meantime, I tried to memorize the turns we took and surroundings; in case the opportunity arises that this knowledge would be useful.
We have been walking through hallways the whole time, lighted with fluorescent lights that were fixed on the low ceilings, giving the place an eerie hospital feel. My attempt at memorizing the directions failed too; this place was like a labyrinth, seemingly endless and everywhere looked hopelessly the same as the place before. My eyes still squinted against the lighting, and I tried avoiding any trace of light, resulting in me walking with my head slunk down. That was when I realized I was barefooted, and my toes had a weird bluish tinge to them. That wasn't good news.
Ignoring my discolouring toes for a moment, I glanced up to see a door at the end of this hallway. The man reached the door, and I see his face for the first time. I let out a tiny gasp, but immediately looked away, afraid of what he was going to do to me. He had a little scruff of a beard growing under his mouth, a large flat face that was lined with numerous scars, and an alert grey eye that eyed me cautiously. One alert grey eye. The thing that made me gasp was the thick red welt that ran down his face, from his hairline to his cheek, running through his left eye. It split his face, and I could tell that he was blind in one eye, his eyelid permanently sealed shut by the scar.
I didn't dare look up at him anymore after, and he did not seem to mind as he pushed open the metal door, pulling me in. Looking around, I realized we were in a lab of some sort. Beakers connected to transparent tubes travelled around the room, all running back to the same huge container at the far end. I had always thought that rebels were homeless armies who dominated large areas of land or ruins. Never would I have thought they had high-tech machines and their own 'base', and it hit me that Iléa doesn't know anything about the rebels. Without knowledge, how can we fight? I take in every detail of this room, committing it to memory so that I could tell Maxon if I get back. The word if terrifies me, and I hold back a sob. I have been strong for so long already, I can continue keeping it up.
Just then, a click caught my attention, and I turned abruptly to see a door I hadn't noticed before right beside the huge container. The door was obviously made to blend in with the surrounding walls; painted a sterile white with no visible handles or hinges. A slender woman in a white lab coat walked in, safety glasses perched on her slim nose, clipboard in her gloved hands. She notices us, and then smiles warmly at me, and gestures for us to follow her through the door she just walked out of.
When I didn't budge, the man prodded my back with a strong hand, pushing me towards the hidden door. I willed my legs to move, trying my best not to collapse in the midst of my steps. He placed a large hand on the door, and it automatically slides open, revealing a spacious office area. Directly a few feet across from me is a massive oak desk piled with stacks of books and papers, some scattered messily around the table, and a few books lay opened. Pens of different colours lay randomly around too, giving the dull room a splash of colour. All around the room shelves neatly arranged with books lined the walls, and the map of Iléa hung down from the only empty space between two shelves. Red stickers filled the map, almost covering the entire country with red dots.
A young woman, probably in her mid-twenties, sat behind her desk in a tall leather chair, her eyes gazing at me expectantly. She had an aura of charm surrounding her, and she was impossibly beautiful, perfect features with a pretty face. Her soft brown hair reminded me of Celeste, the only exception that she wears it down with gentle curls at the tips. Waving me forward with long fingers, she gestures for me to take a seat in a chair facing her. I obliged, but only because the man was pushing me forward with great force, and huffed down onto the soft seat. A warm sensation travelled up my legs, finally getting the rest they needed, and I sighed softly.
The young woman lightly rapped her knuckles on the desk twice, catching my attention, and gave me a smile that showcased her pearl white teeth. They were as white and clean as her lab coat, obviously fake and extremely unnatural, but with great beauty like this, it was no surprise to see equally perfect teeth.
She held out her hand, her nails a perfectly manicured black, "Nice to meet you, America, I'm Safara Schreave."
