Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Again and again, I told myself the separation wouldn’t be permanent. Once the heat with Mr. Vyle died down, we could get back together. And yet, even the thought of a temporary split-up hurt worse than these physical wounds.
A bell rang, signaling the start of free time. The chain opened without prompting, falling.
“Thank goodness.” I rushed to the bathroom, where I peed for an eternity. After washing my hands, I headed to the commons to swipe a meal bar and extra hy-water, which I guzzled like a madwoman. Well, not mad mad. To my surprise, my energy didn’t rally as I emptied the third carton but tanked.
Though my team congregated in the entertainment portion of the room, eager to socialize, I trudged to my old cell. My shadows remained outside it, in front of the bars, flanking the open doorway. I tumbled into my hard, uncomfortable bed, done with the day.
Hmm. The mattress. It was much softer than I recalled. And there wasn’t a chain attached to the wall to ensure I couldn’t harm anyone if I broke with Madness in the middle of the night.
But. What would happen when I got a new roommate?
Spotting a digital reader on my pillow, I reached out to press the chip in my palm against the ID pad at the bottom-right side of the device’s hard outer shell. Maybe I’d find a note from my sweet prince.
Or not. A schedule appeared.
LADY A.R.
Tuesday–Thursday
0500–0530: Wake up/Breakfast
0530–0730: Warm up/Work out (Gym A)
0800–1000: Realms and Travel (Room 2)
1010–1230: Weapons (Room 6)
1230–1300: Lunch
1300–1500: Self-Defense (Gym A)
1500–1550: Battlefield First Aid (Room 1)
1600–1930: Drills (The Dome)
1930–2000: Dinner
2000–2200: Free time
2200–0500: Lights out
Friday–Saturday
0500–0530: Wake up/Breakfast
0530–0600: *Travel to Theirland
0600–1600: **Patrol
1600–0500: Free time
Sunday
0500–0530: Wake up/Breakfast
0530–0600: Travel to Ourland
0600–0730: Warm up/Work out (Gym A)
0800–1000: Evaluation (Room 1)
1010–1230: Testing (Room 4)
1230–1300: Lunch
1300–1500: Madness Basics (Room 3)
1500–1550: Driving (TBA)
1600–1930: Drills (The Dome)
1930–2000: Dinner
2000–2059: Free time
2200–0500: Lights out
Monday
Free day
*Friday only
**Breaks scheduled by superior
A list of cellmate pairings followed.
Only my day off and a few room assignments had changed. The best part? I hadn’t been assigned a new roommate. Mykal, my previous roomie, had quit the program after a mutual friend broke with Madness and attacked us. I couldn’t blame her. The break had come courtesy of CURED, the government we’d trusted to protect us. Not that she knew the truth. Still. I wish she’d stayed.
Learning to fight and defend myself had helped me in ways I hadn’t known I’d needed. Maybe Mykal would return. Of course, I would lose the desk that had replaced her bed, but better to have a friend than a workstation.
Hold up. My new desk chair was cushioned?
Thank you, Cyrus. I eased into an upright position, reviving, and noticed a second reader on the desk, next to a pot of pure, untainted soil with a single mystery seed germinating beneath the surface. Also a gift from Cyrus, which I’d left at his apartment in Bala City.
Ignoring my aches and pains, I climbed to my feet and crossed over. The reader lit up thanks to a motion sensor, the desired note from Cyrus dominating the screen, inspiring a wide smile.
Turn Me On
With a snort, I plopped onto the ultra-luxurious cushion and did as commanded: pressed my chip against the ID panel. The screen lit up again, brighter, revealing another message.
Lady Pink,
Remember my command, and your agreement. Also 1) this reader isn’t for class. I promised I’d find a way for us to communicate, and this is it. Be aware—a dozen analysts will read every word. And 2) The upper right drawer of your new desk serves as a safe for any treasures I give you. The lock code is a number you recognize. I won’t get to see you tonight, but I’ll be thinking of you . . .
Yours,
Cyrus
PS. When you’re alone, don’t be afraid to get dirty and find out what I gifted to you.
Both confused and excited, I clutched the reader to my chest. While I fully understood the reference to the code, Cyrus could’ve meant several different things by “get dirty,” considering he’d gifted me many things. I thought, maybe, probably, he referenced the pot of soil with that mystery seed planted within its depths. Per his instructions, I’d watered it every day, yet nothing had sprouted.
Considering I was a wannabe horticulturist who’d spent her life studying to unravel the Great Soil and Seed Anomaly caused by the fusion of two vastly different worlds, I practically frothed at the mouth for a chance to discover what I was growing. But disturbing the soil and digging up a seed to “get dirty” was foolish. I could interrupt and damage the germinating process. Unless . . .
Chewing on my bottom lip, I set the reader aside and examined the dark soil. Thoughts tumbled over each other. Perhaps the seed had already grown and now thrived beneath the surface. There was such a thing as a hydrothermal vent ecosystem, where plants grew without the need of light. Although it was a unique process usually found at volcanic fissures along the ocean floor, and this wasn’t that. But. I couldn’t not do it.