Nope, not one final chapter, but three final chapters.
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Miraculously, I didn't do this for myself. And finally I can say with pride and joy that I've done something selfless.
And it feels good.
The bruises forming along the length of my body are countless, my back is burning and sweat is coming out of me in liters, but I preserve.
I wriggle my butt and hip in such a way so I can turn the corner without getting another bruise. The walls are all around, platinum cells that I've put myself into. Having turned the corner, I continue down the vents.
If one was claustrophobic and managed to get themselves in here, you're going to hell. And when I'm finished with this hot prison, I'll be joining the lot that has this phobia.
I pull the map out of my headband and click my pen flashlight on, deducing that I'm still going the right way. I follow the messy scribbled lines and memorize the directions I'll have to take next.
Straight, left, straight, third left, straight, first right, then up.
When I reach the third floor, I'll check the map again. I turn on my watch, flash the light on it and see that I still have thirty minutes left until the potion wears off. I doubt I'll be finished by then, so I'll probably have to take some more drops.
I roll the map and push it in my headband again, along with my pen.
I continue on. Elbows and knees rub against harsh metal, the heat from it all plunges me in a sauna, and my eyes are a bit foggy from it all.
Just as I'm about to complain, I remember. I'm doing this for Jamaica.
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Nao sits with his arms crossed, forehead creasing in deep thought. The rest of the gang is somewhat merry, glad that the current base is considered safe by Nao, and what Nao considers safe, the whole gang considers safe.
Which is stupid.
They have way too much trust in an eighteen-year-old's judgment.
I cross my feet in front of each other and sit down next to him, folding my legs. He doesn't even look up, forehead creasing further.
Since we're on top of a small hill, I can lean forward and observe the bustling of life down there.
The group is currently divided by age, the young ones playing by one side, the teenagers at another and the adults snacking in the middle. I spot Jamaica running among the kids his age, laughing as he manages to trip a girl up when she went to tag him.
He high-fives another girl and they both bust out in a run, mocking the one who's it as they succeed at avoiding her. The other kids, noticing the game, join in and in no time a boy gets to be it.
I scowl and turn to my nails, somewhat happy that he's finally being a kid and somewhat not.
"Welcome back," Nao greets. I turn and see Emmyl and Tulka join us, both of them crossing their feet and sitting down.
I notice Emmie among the people below, Yaya on his shoulder. He makes his rounds, seeing as he's the pack doctor and all, even if he is the most panicky man I've met in my life.
The little girl in his arms grabs at his hair, a thick white cloth around her neck. The bandage functions as a reminder that we've got one less problem, that the WB can't digitally track us. The procedure of Emmie removing the chip still gives me chills.
YOU ARE READING
Run Away With Me
Werewolf"Fishy kisses are better than kisses," I say, the words coming out of nowhere, "and like that, two people together are better than marriage." "What are you talking about?" "Nothing really," I sigh, hunching over myself more to trap the warmth, "it'...
