A Thousand Ways To Run

Prologue

                                            Don't discount our powers;

                                             We have made a pass

                                                      At the infinite,

                                            -Robert Frost, “Kitty Hawk"

I stood frozen in the foyer as red lights illuminated the area around the grand staircase. Screaming school girls surrounded me as they fled in panic. The inevitable thick metal bars encased the entire room into a prison. All lighting was terminated apart from the blaring red that faded in and out as the booming alarm went off. I thought about how it sounded eerily similar to the sirens that would go off in European towns during wartime before the opposing countries would drop their bombs.

The thought didn't scare me in the least; a tactic like that was way too intrusive. The rubble would most likely crush me before they could get me, anyway.

I was the only girl in the room that didn’t flinch as more security measures went off automatically, sealing the boarding school into a state of high security. The security measures consisted of metal encasing, missile-proof glass, and security locks to all exits. It was just like the other six Code Reds I had indirectly caused.

I knew better than to move from my spot, and instead took a little delight in watching my supposed torturers actually believe their life was in danger when in fact, it was mine.

No one stood within a six foot radius of me. One redhead, Claire, stared at me with a most peculiar expression. She was smart – she had figured it out seven seconds before anyone else had. Now there were nine girls stealing glances at me as they hurried about the room and looked for anywhere to hide—to get away from me. Ten girls were still clueless and screeching. They held their hands over their ears to drown out the booming siren that had gone off sixty-four times already.

There were approximately sixteen girls in the library, ten in the dining hall, fifteen still in the labs, thirty locked outside on the grounds, and twenty upstairs. I calculated all this as I waited. It was my only consistent habit, a pattern engraved into my mind that I constantly felt compelled to repeat.

I had received twenty glares.

The light had blinked one-hundred and ninety-two times.

The alarm had went off exactly one minute ago.

My Ancient Languages teacher was eight steps away from reaching me and taking me somewhere the staff deemed safe.

It was all the same: stay at another elite school for a few months until they find me, or life gets, boring. Because, despite what others presumed, being a genius CIA legacy gets boring.

My teacher gripped both my shoulders as more faculty members surrounded me in the standard protection technique, leading me forward to the grand staircase. I sighed, but it was lost in the furor of the Code Red. Whenever I ran away from my schools, they would eventually undergo a Code Yellow. That was after I never showed up for classes because no one else paid any attention to my whereabouts. Though I never returned to those schools to check, it was a systematical fact that I was not liked by anyone other than secret societies and organizations with hidden agendas.

Because I was Robot-Girl, a psychopath without empathy or remorse.

The least they could do was think of a more creative nickname for me. All fourteen schools I had attended all lacked the creativity that is a necessity to be an effective ‘bully’. You would think students at spy school would be a little bit more intelligent.

As it turned out, there was a secret passageway under the staircase. It was narrow, dusty, and dark. The solid oak door closed behind our little group of five, and darkness enclosed the space.

“Are you alright, Charlotte?” a voice asked nervously. The voice obviously belonged to the rodent-like Encryption professor. He was only on edge because his newest protection enforcements had failed, hence the glaring light and extreme measures. He didn't care about me. Only his job.

“Fine,” I responded. I sounded cold, distant, and icy. Like always.

Why wouldn't I have been? Smarter men than him had taught me how to survive these enforcements, and had been teaching me more since the tender age of four. Terrorist organizations had been after me for more than half of my life, and still I was my same self. They hadn't brainwashed me yet—turned me into their own machine. If anything, I was bored of the same game, bored of being their responsibility. I didn't need protecting. I had never needed protecting; my dad made sure of that.

My dad: the most wanted man by over one-hundred rogue organizations and six countries. CIA operative, con man, certified genius. And the reason for all the trouble, Code Reds, and death threats?

Because the apple didn't fall far from the tree.

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Dedicated to my faithful editor and amazing friend, Amy. She works wonders, couldn't do it wihtout her. Hope you guys like the new story! It has a LOT of romance, humor, and spy-stuff :) I will update about every 4-5 days.

I would love to know what you think. And thank you for reading!

<3 thatcrazybookworm