She’d slip out, and go through the back alley until she reached the tree. The branch she had been on was almostdirectly above the entrance. She would wait there until the guard shifted, and then hopefully drop down. That specific branch was a little too high to drop down, but she was hoping she’d be able to drop to a lower branch and then to the ground.
She had the key card, so that at least, was in her favor. She didn’t know the code. But she remembered the pattern the guard’s hand had gone in when he entered it. She hoped it was simplistic enough that it would be enough. It had to be enough. She could do this.This is stupid, Clara.She couldn’t help but think. She pushed the thought aside and kept planning. Once inside, she would retrieve the weapon, hide until the next guard change, and then slip out. Silently, she slid her hands over her body accounting for all of her knives. It would have to be enough.
She didn’t even allow herself to consider what would happen if one of the pieces failed. She would find Marsh’s weapons before she headed to the lab and add those to her collection. She was fully capable of taking on enough guards to protect herself. She didn’t need help. She would be able to do this.
She kept reminding herself of this, letting the plan run over and over, until it felt more like a choreographed performance than something she was trying to figure out.
She counted to a thousand before she slipped out from the covers, her bare feet landing lightly. She grabbed her boots with one hand, and eased the door open with the other. She waited in the hallway to make sure Carver hadn’t woken to follow her. After enough time had passed to be safe, she tiptoed down the stairs.
Remembering that Marsh had pulled out the hand drawn map from a book on the shelf, Clara wondered what else had been stored on the shelf. An extremely thick book with some meaningless title stood out to her first. She pulled it out, and when she opened it found a small handgun. She wanted to tuckit in the band of the leggings, but guns would be too much of a risk. The lab was secluded, and the noise of guns plus the high oxygen levels wouldn’t end well for her. She wasn’t willing to risk an explosion.
She found another gun, a small taser, and a set of knives in other places on the bookshelf.
Feeling more confident with the weapons in her grasp, she slipped into her boots. She needed to get out of here. Sorting through the books had taken longer than she had planned for, and knowing that neither Marsh nor Carver regularly slept through the night, she needed to leave before they woke up and found her.
Once in the alley, she took a deep breath, feeling adrenaline already pumping through her veins. This was the excitement of an assignment–the ability to push yourself to the brink and truly see what you were made of. She would. She would push herself to the brink and find out exactly what she was made of. No matter what it cost.
46CARVER
He stood next to Clara’s bed with his hand on her shoulder for far longer than he should. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. Maybe there was an insane part of him, because he would have to be entirely insane, hoping she would open her eyes and invite him to slide in next to her. Hoping she would say she understood and she cared about him too.
It was supposed to be her. It was always her. Whether she knew it or not, from the first day they sat on the roof he had known he would never love anyone else the way he loved her.
He opened the box with the red gem necklace, and wondered if there would ever be an opportunity for him to give it to her now that he had so royally screwed up. He slid the box under his pillow and locked himself in the bathroom.
He couldn’t believe he kissed Marsh–especially in public where Clara was able to see. If he could go back and rewrite that moment he would. He would tell Marsh that she was very sweet, and very pretty, that he liked her, but his heart belonged to another. And whether that other ever acknowledged him or not, his heart would remain true to her.
He turned the shower on and stepped in. If only he could go back.
He mind fixated on how crushed Clara looked in the moment he met her eyes. As the water in the shower ran down his back, that moment replayed over and over until he thought he was going insane.
He shut the water off, and quickly changed. Should he wake her? Could they have this conversation and move on? They were supposed to be prepared to accomplish the assignment tomorrow. They had wasted almost all of today. The assignment was first, right? That was the rule.And we’ve done such a good job of following the rules.
As he stood next to her bed, debating waking her, he couldn’t. She looked too peaceful, too calm. And he was too tired to want to fight with her. It would be a fight. In some ways, it would be fair on her part. Whether he was committed to her or not, the rules did say that he wasn’t supposed to flirt with anyone. He broke them and it wasn’t even for the sake of the assignment. Because he was stupid and craved something more than the absence he constantly felt.
Surprisingly, he fell asleep quickly.
And plunged directly into a dream.
Clara had knives in both of her hands. They were in the hallway of the lab. They passed these young lab assistants on either side. Kids. They couldn’t have been more than 16 or 17. She didn’t hesitate as she lashed out in fluid motions and slit their throats.
Blood pooled on the white floors as they slumped. Carver gagged, but kept moving. Even with the brutality, he had to complete the assignment or it would all be for naught. He had to get the vials. He had to get the vials.
It kept repeating in his head like a mantra. He had to get the vials. He had to save Quorath. More teens stepped out in white coats, and again, Clara didn’t hesitate. Again, he gagged, but again he kept moving.
He glanced over at her, and her face was impassive. The carnage, the blood shed behind them didn’t seem to faze her in the least. She was fully focused. Fully determined. Nothing would stop her.
A man stepped out of the shadows as they reached the lab. He wore a dark coat, and Carver’s heart dropped. Something was wrong. The man threw out two weapons, Carver couldn’t tell what they were, but he heard Clara scream almost immediately and everything inside of him fully panicked.
He turned to see Clara had fallen to the ground, her wrists pouring blood. The man had cut off her hands. “It was a silly thing, you tried to do here, boy.”
Carver fell to his knees, warmth soaking through his pants as the blood continued to pool. He gently wrapped his arm around Clara’s shoulder, determined to save her if nothing else. Soldiers poured into the lab, standing at attention behind the man in black. They weren’t going to fulfill the assignment. There was no way they were getting the vials now. At best, he could get Clara out of here alive. So that was what he determined to do.
“You were never going to win. We always knew you were coming. Do you think the festival was just to showcase our scientific endeavors?” He grinned, and Carver almost recoiled. The man’s canines had been carved into points, and in that moment he looked more animal than human. His voice, however, still carried the distinct mark of royalty. Every word perfectly spoken, and with an air that you couldn’t help but listen.
“No, we’re not that prideful. It was an invite.”
Carver slipped his hands under Clara’s shoulders, trying to help her stand, but she had passed out. Her dead weight caused him to pitch forward, both of them ending up back on the ground. Her blood was soaking his pants, coating his hands, coating her, and he resisted the urge to gag yet again as nauseachurned in his stomach. He wouldn’t show weakness in front of this man.
