Trapped | The Trapped Trilogy Book 1

Ten (Part 2)

Ten (Part 2)

I scramble to my feet and jiggle the handle.

Footsteps to my right.

I bolt to the left, back the way I came, and backtrack to Peter's cell. But what I hadn't notice on my way out is that there are hundreds of cells lined up on each wall. Hundreds of identical doors leading to identical cells.

I take a moment to groan, and then I run, peering through each clear door, looking for his face.

There! There it is.

I abruptly stop and back up to the door, my shoulder aching. My breath is rapid and hot, and creates a cloud on the glass door as I hit it with the palm of my hand to get his attention.

He stands and runs over, panic making his face white.

Peter waves his hands, shooing me away, and I give him a sideways glance.

Does he not want to be saved?

He points down the hall, where heavy and continuous footsteps echo from.

I look at him wide-eyed and my brain goes blank. I could run... I could run and leave him behind; leave the stranger's voice in the dark room behind. I could run and go home. Away from my insane mother and away from danger and away from the bullet wound in my arm... I could run.

So I do.

My legs carry me past the cells and into another hallways to the right. I take another right, and trip over a pipe, falling to the ground and hitting my chin on the cement.

Sobs take over as I realize what I've done.

I ran and left the one person who has managed to both put my life in danger and keep me safe and alive behind. I've left a poor, lonely person alone to die in a room of darkness. I denied my mother's outreach, crazy or not, and possibly destroyed the entire rebellion. I let Doug die... let many people die. The mission that night was to save me-me, who didn't even need saving. And because of that act, many, many people died before my eyes-and I couldn't do anything about it.

If I hadn't saved those girls on the bus...

I hear a gun go off, and a scream.

Peter.

I can hear the talking of the guards echoing down the hallways and into my ears.

Lifting myself up and peering around the corner, I watch to see if they're going to pass by me. Maybe they'll take Peter somewhere I can follow and try to help him get free and to find a way out of this place.

The shuffle of boots and a few cruel laughs make their way to the halls as they grow near. I see them step around the corner, and I tuck my head back. If I don't move from here, they'll see me, unless some strange miracle prevents them from seeing out of their peripherals.

I sprint quietly around the corner on the opposite side of the wall and press my back against the cool brick.

Their footsteps grow louder as they walk down the hall, and their voices, along with grunts coming from the pained Peter, bounce off the brick like a bouncy ball. I peek around the corner and watch as they pass by.

As soon as they disappear behind the other wall, I quietly walk down to watch them go.

Peter is limping badly, leaving bloodstains on the floor. They had shot his foot.

His groans of pain follow him all the way down the hall and to the right.

Where are they taking him?

I follow them for a while, jumping at every sound I make, my heart pounding in my ears. They weave through, and I lose track of how many left and right turns are they take.

Finally, they stop at a set of greenish-gray doors. The guard on the left pulls one of them open as Peter and the other guard step through, Peter practically being dragged by the man.

The door closes, and the guard that had opened it stands outside, guarding the room.

I press my back against the wall again and try to think. Several minutes pass, and nothing comes to mind. I can't just walk up to the guard. He might know what I look like. Who I am. Then I'd just be back where I started.

"The girl escaped," A woman's voice echoes down the long halls.

"Let's just hope she wasn't important," Another woman says.

They're getting closer to me. I have to think of something fast.

"Where's the holder? She's supposed to be here by now."

They're just around the corner.

Suddenly, I have an idea.

I walk out, looking my best to seem lost.

"Excuse me, I'm a bit lost. I was assigned to be a holder today," I say sheepishly, hoping I'm using it in the right context.

The taller woman studies me, pursing her lips. She has short blonde hair and bright blue eyes with thick black glasses, and she wears a black T-shirt with green pants.

"Is today your first day?" The second lady asks. She has short black hair like a boy, and the top of her ear is cut off and scarred over.

I nod, and they look me over skeptically.

"Alright," Half-ear says, cocking her large gun and slinging it over her shoulder. "Were you informed on what to do, or did Suarez forget again?"

I shrug. "He just told me where to go to."

The tall one waves, motioning for me to follow her.

"When you get in there, all you have to do is hold the guy down. We'll be doing all of the talking."

I nod and follow them to the doors.

"Rebecca Burg," The tall woman tells the man.

"Eriah Tane," Ear says.

The man looks at me expectantly.

"Your name?" Eriah says to me.

"Wow, he really told you nothing," Rebecca says, and then turns to the man. "She's the holder."

He nods and opens the door.

We walk in, and my stomach leaps into my throat.