Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“What did your father say, about the alliance The Opposition might try to form with them?”
I look at the soldiers through my lashes before speaking. This is exactly the kind of information they’ve been trying to pry out of me. I look back at Zarah and pretend to be eating another spoonful to hide my lips moving.
“He felt they were our best chance to ever get out from under The New Order. We’ve been trying for years and haven't found a way to defeat them. He thinks allying ourselves with the aliens is our only chance. He feels they seem to have the same objectives, and want the same things, but have the weapons necessary to bring The New Order to its knees. The problem was getting in touch with them without one of them killing you first. Which I, of course, pointed out was not exactly comforting when talking about an alliance with someone.”
“Sometimes you have to use violence to have any peace. That seems to be the case here.” Then, she juts her chin towards the soldiers. “Look at them. You can see the fear in their eyes. They’re used to beating on women, not having to stand up to some alien man demanding they treat us like actual human beings. They don’t know what to do with these aliens except try and hide from them. I don’t know if another group of humans, even The Opposition, could have achieved that fear. And fear is what’s needed to break down The New Order from the inside out.”
A soldier comes over to us with a grim look on his face. He slams his hand down on the table and watches us like we’re supposed to jump at the sound. Neither of us does.
“If we have to tell you two bitches to eat one more time, you’ll be eating with bloody mouths.”
We both eat a spoonful, and he stands over us to watch. Asshole.
“Soldier Newson.”
The soldier turns around so quickly, it’s comical.
“Lieutenant Johnson,” the soldier says, standing straighter than before. “How can I help you, sir?”
“When that wretch is done, bring her to the interrogation room.”
The lieutenant points at Zarah, and my stomach drops. I glance over at Zarah and find that distant look, the one she always has whenever she comes back from an interrogation, taking over her eyes. But it’s when my stare moves back to the exchange between the soldier and lieutenant, that it lands on something that stills me. With the soldier standing with his back to me, the folded knife that they all must wear is right before my eyes. I could … I could take it. He might feel me take it. He might notice it missing before I get the chance to use it. But I can’t let this opportunity pass me by. Like Zarah and I have both noticed, they’ve been distracted, getting sloppy. None of them has turned their back on us yet as we’ve proven ourselves unsafe to do so time and time again. But this one has made that mistake, and I’m going to make them all pay for it. I don’t pay attention to the very quiet gasp I hear escape Zarah when she sees my hand extending towards the knife.
“Why are there so many soldiers in here?” the lieutenant asks.
My fingers reach the top of the knife as the soldier begins to answer. I let them sit there for a few seconds, hoping he won’t recognize the slight, but extra, weight.
“Uh, we were discussing the newest message from the aliens.”
I get a better grip on the top of the knife and release a shaky breath that seems far too loud to my ears.
“And in doing that, you’ve all gathered here, and left us defenseless should those very aliens burst through our doors at this moment.”
The utter silence of the room stills my hand. I can feel the way Newson begins to tremble. Although, it’s women who suffer most at the hands of The New Order, men also know that if they step out of line, or disobey, disappoint even, the consequences are not too far behind. Everyone in this room knows someone will pay for the way far too many soldiers are in this space, yes, talking and gossiping, instead of guarding like they’re supposed to be doing.
“Soldier Knowles, you bring the woman for interrogation when she’s done eating,” the lieutenant states, “Soldier Newson, you come with me.”
This is it, my last chance to get the knife from his belt. I can only hope the fear I can feel practically vibrating off him makes him oblivious to what’s happening at his back. Just as he begins to move forward, taking a single slow step that’s filled with dread, I lift my hand. The knife comes off his belt easily, the way it’s meant to do, but it’s never meant to be engulfed in a hand such as mine. But I close my fingers around it, and hurry to bring it to my side as he takes another step. I worry someone will see me sliding my closed fist towards myself, but all eyes are on Newson. They know as well as I do that it might very well be the last time anyone sees him. Alive or something close to it, anyway.