Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
I take off running. I don’t even care if I’m identified by strangers on the street. Not that it matters. The people are ready for revolution. The last few years, citizens on the inside who had received the newsletters have been working on building more tunnels, funneling weapons and supplies. The end of the Regime is now.
I cut through side streets and alleys until I’m out of the urban area of the elite zone. Former prisoners who joined up with Insurgents on the other side had shown me and the others the exact location of the detention facility. My gut is telling me that’s where they’ve taken her.
Once I get to her, I’m never going to let her out of my sight again. And if she doesn’t like life on the farm, then we’ll go somewhere else. Or I’ll carry her over the mud and never let her high heels touch the ground. I don’t care what I have to do as long as she’s mine.
I run faster in the direction of the detention facility, and anger pushes through with my adrenaline. They better not have laid a fucking finger on her. The thought of her being tortured right now rips at my inside. The Leader is a ruthless monster. But he’s her father. Could he really hurt his own daughter?
The answer to that questions is both easy and terrifying.
Chapter Thirteen
Naomi
“Hello, Naomi. I thought maybe you could tell me what this is.” My father pushes a pamphlet across the table for me to see.
I don’t look at the paper. Instead, I look at his hands. Hands that I’ve felt the wrath of too many times to count. But right now, they don’t look so scary. Maybe it’s because I’m older, or maybe it’s because his health isn’t so good. I lean back in my chair and smile at him.
“It looks like you’re not watching your blood pressure, not eating right or exercising. As always. How’s Mom?”
“I’m as healthy as a horse, always have been,” he lies. Anyone can see he looks like he’s a meal away from a heart attack. “Your mother is well. She’s vacationing down on the shore with some friends and their grandchildren.”
I wince at the thought of either of them being around children. They did enough damage to me, and I can’t imagine they’ve gotten better with age.
“I’m sorry, did I touch a nerve? You know, you didn’t have to wither away as an old maid in the basement of the library. You had every advantage.”
“I’m not an old maid.” I shake my head. He wanted me to get married and start a family when I was barely seventeen.
“And I never should have indulged you in this weird, introverted career of yours. The only reason you’re not married with seven children right now is because you’re my daughter. But now I see I left you alone too long,” he says, his eyes darkening. “My intel shows me that you’ve been helping The Insurgence. You know what the punishment is for that, don’t you?” He leans forward. His eyes lock on me, and I can see the anger there.
I don’t answer him. Instead, I hold my tongue. Anything I say now could get me into trouble. I have to see where he’s going with this. He could be bluffing.
He taps his fat finger on the magazine, and I can see the words written there. “Day of Reckoning, May 1. Care to explain this?”
“I don’t know what that is,” I lie. I’m not telling him shit. I won’t sell out Ryan or anyone else in the resistance. I didn’t come this far to let it all slip away. All this time alone in that basement is going to mean something. Even if I have to die for it.
He laughs. “Oh, you don’t? That is a publication of The Insurgence. Which you’re a part of. You’ve been caught, Naomi. We found the tunnel.”
My heart sinks while my stomach leaps up into my throat. “That tunnel was for charity,” I say, and it’s not a lie.
“What?”
“I used the tunnel to send food and first aid, that’s it. It was charity. I felt sorry for all those kids.”
“What kids?”
“What kids? Are you joking? All of the hundreds of thousands of children on the other side of that wall,” I say, getting heated.
“It was for the greater good,” he defends.
“You left them all to starve and fend for themselves. They have nothing. No clean water, no food, no power, no support, no jobs!” I yell.
“I had no idea you were such a political person.” His eyes narrow. He’s likely thinking he should have used me for something else. But I’ve always seen through to who he really is.
“I’m not. I felt guilty living this life and I needed to give back. Every week, we sent books to the people outside the wall, and I felt I had to do more.” I take a deep breath, trying to get myself back together. “Can I go home now?” I push, knowing it probably won’t work.