Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 106839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
The door opens and I step back in shock at the face I’m lookin’ at. But it only takes a second or two for it to click into place. “Sawyer?” I ask. “Or Erol?”
Ryan huffs out some air behind me, but he doesn’t say anything because he’s busy targeting this man, whoever he is, with the rifle.
“It’s either-or, I guess,” Sawyer says.
“You’re Cross’s father?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I am.”
“So which name is real?”
“Depends on the day, I suppose.”
I try to see past him, but the hatch opening isn’t that wide, so I don’t see much. But there is a shadow back there.
Sawyer or Erol or whoever he is steps aside just enough to give me a glimpse. I was expecting it to be Cross, but it’s not. It’s three very big men aiming their heat at us. “Don’t mind them,” Sawyer says. “They’re here for me, not you.”
My brow furrows in confusion as I parse these words, but then Sawyer is saying, “Come on, Cross. It’s time to go home.”
And then there he is. All pouty-faced and pissed off. “This is bullshit,” he complains, looking me straight in the eyes. “I wanna stay! You have no right to take me out of here!”
I’m just about to open my mouth when Sawyer bends down a little to see his boy better. I figure he’s gonna tell him that they’ll be together soon, or something like that. But that’s not what he says. He says, “You go home and make me proud, OK?”
“But I don’t wanna go home, Daddy!”
Is it weird that it kinda kills me that Cross is callin’ him Daddy? Because this man isn’t his daddy. This man doesn’t know anything about this boy.
“Oh, this place ain’t going nowhere, Cross. It’s gonna be here when you turn eighteen.”
And I’m thinking, There it is. That’s his plan. Wait until he’s eighteen and— But this thought of mine is cut off when I realize that Sawyer isn’t looking at Cross, he’s looking at me.
And then, as Sawyer stands back up, he says in a voice so low it’s even less than a whisper, “Take good care of him, Amon.” And then he winks at me and mouths the words, Not everything is what it seems.
The next thing I know Cross is pushed out of the hatch by one of the MP’s or whoever they are, and the door is being slammed shut behind him.
“What did he just say?” Ryan asks, still holding his rifle at high-ready just in case.
I look at him, then down at an angry Cross, then back up at Ryan and sigh as I shake my head. “I’ll tell ya later. Let’s go.”
Cross starts his complaining, but I just put my hands on his shoulders and turn him around so we can start the long walk back.
Sheltered they might be, but neither the women nor children of Disciple scare easily. Add in the fact that we spend less than two hours in our secret hiding place under the church before we get word from Collin that Amon is already on his way back and he’s got my boy in tow, and what we’ve got ourselves here is a… non-situation.
So it’s no surprise, really, that no one hiding down in the secret tunnel below the Edge Security church—which apparently also doubles as a munitions depot—is particularly concerned about the recent turn of events.
Which kinda makes me wonder a little bit. About their lack of concern.
But then, when I take a good look at my own circumstances—boy kidnapped by presumed dead father, taken to a secret underground military city, then rescued by my outlaw security company boyfriend and a standing army of a hundred armed men—I realize that I’ve got my own problem with lack of concern.
And then I start to wonder where this indifference might stem from.
There’s really only one answer: the Revival, of course.
Me and my neighbors have spent our whole lives playing dress-up and pretend. And I myself have taken the game to a whole new level. I mean, I don’t just dress up for Disciple, I put in my playtime with Revenant and Bishop as well.
And as nice as that print shop is, and as fun as writing up those ‘desperately seeking somebodies’ is, and as pretty and feminine my little cottage is… I’m starting to think I’ve taken it a tick too far.
I might not actually be grounded in reality.
This thought is just beginning its tour through my mind when the door to the hallway opens and Collin Creed comes in saying, “Let’s go, people. Fun’s over. Ya don’t have to go home, but ya can’t stay here.”
Everyone chuckles as they get to their feet.
Part of me understands that Collin is making light of this because of the kids. But there’s another part of me that understands that this is his job. He keeps people safe.