Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 127712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 639(@200wpm)___ 511(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 639(@200wpm)___ 511(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
He stops at the end of the hall and turns to me. “Apologies for the long disconcerting walk. In the daytime it’s not dark at all. In fact, it’s far too bright.” He nods his head up to the ceiling and when I look up, I realize it’s made of glass. “Many of the hallways are like that. That’s why the lighting is so erratic. When you come in the daylight, you’ll love it though.”
Now that I think about it, it was very bright this morning.
The door he has stopped in front of has an electronic keypad. All labs have these, so that’s not weird. But this one has two biometrics attached to it. An iris scan and a palm scan.
“That’s quite a security system you’ve got there.”
“Isn’t it?”
The door unlocks with a beep, he opens it, and then waves me through. There must be a motion sensor because the lights come on as I step inside.
Then I step out of the way so he can get past me, and I take it all in.
It’s not what I was expecting. Like… at all.
It’s… a library. That’s the only way to describe it. The ceilings are easily twenty feet tall and they are lined with bookshelves. There’s even a few of those sliding ladders you only find in fantasy novels. And it’s old. As are the books. The oldest volumes are kept under glass, open to certain pages. Like, whatever spread it’s open to is the only thing you’re gonna see because if you turn these pages they will disintegrate in your fingers. There’s also a glass room off to the left. I’m not a library expert, but I do love them, so I know that this room is filled with books even more important than the ones in the glass case.
“Do you like it?”
“Do I like it?” I huff out a laugh. “I love it, Mercer. But…” It’s confusing me. “This is your lab?”
“Most of the project is research. That was done—decades ago, actually. And these are the primary resources that were used.”
“Decades?”
“I’m not the only one to work on this project. In fact, I’m the twenty-seventh primary investigator to be assigned to this lab.”
I’m speechless. I was under the impression that Mercer came with a project.
Not that it matters, I guess.
It just… throws me. Like everything else that has happened to me today.
And then he reveals one more twist. “And if everything goes as planned, you will be the twenty-eighth.”
CHAPTER SIX – LOCKE
PRESENT DAY
Nova Ryan’s first month at the Institute was very stressful.
But Olsen was counting on that.
And, if I’m being perfectly honest, so was I.
In the Midnight Ark parking lot, she rests her head on my shoulder, panting hard into my neck. Her body goes limp with exhaustion and I relax a little, letting my fingertips trace a line up and down her bare shoulder.
I love her. And I’m not really sure what’s happening right now, but I’m gonna stick around for it no matter what.
My other fingers begin stroking her hair as I close my eyes. We should get out of this truck and go inside. We should, at the very least, cover ourselves. But we don’t. We just let it all go still and my mind immediately slips back into the past.
To our other new beginning…
Nova’s first month at the Institute was stressful for me too. But that’s because I was living a lie. And the entire time I was living this lie, I was also living with Mercer.
He didn’t have a little cottage tucked between buildings the way Olsen and Nova did. Silas Mercer in a one-room cottage? Get real.
He had a house. A four-bedroom, mid-century modern of all things. It would’ve looked ridiculous if it was near any of the other buildings because the contrast would’ve been stark and not at all harmonious.
But it wasn’t near any of the other buildings. It was on the northeastern edge of the island, not far from the dining hall. But there were thick woods on that side and nothing but a footpath cutting a way through them. So it was well-hidden unless you were coming by boat.
By boat, it was hard to miss. Everyone in the area knew of the Mercer House. He had a dock—shit, he had a marina. There were even gas pumps. Sometimes, in the summer, people would be boating by. And if Mercer and I were out there, they would call over to us, asking if they could buy gas.
Mercer always filled them up and he never took a cent of money.
He was generous like that. Don’t get me wrong, Mercer has a whole slew of vices and undesirable traits. But greedy he is not.
I cannot remember a time when I wasn’t Silas Mercer’s best friend. This is why my betrayal was so heartbreaking for him. And me too, actually.