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Mal and I look at each other cluelessly. My brows lower, immediately walking toward him. He leads us down the long hall until we are bursting through the compound and toward the security camera set up.
“Look who we have here,” he says, pointing at the footage, displaying an image of the outside gate.
My heart thumps erratically against my ribs as my eyes zoom in on Anita standing at the gate, a duffel bag around her shoulder, black shades, and a black jean jacket. My mouth dries at the sight.
She shifts, her finger landing on the intercom button. “I know you can see me. Open up,” she sings out with a sultry tone, her face pointed directly at the camera.
My brow raises as a small smirk forms on my lips.
I guess I was right.
Chapter 13
Venom
Location:
GenCre
Operation: Keep an eye on Ronan
Arriving at GenCre, I don’t know what to expect. Maybe a stinky house with cobwebs floating around, or a cracked, small, dusty desk that’s nearly broken from how old it is. Or possibly terrible flooring and tiny rooms with just a crew of five.
Nothing could’ve prepared me for this. I walk into an old, dusty shop—only to be led deeper into the building, down to a long, dimly lit tunnel with lampshades posted along the walls, then I climb onto an escalator with two men. When I reach the top, I look around me—it brought me into an entirely different world.
The dullness of the sky momentarily stings my vision. There’s a row of black Land master UTV’s lined up to our right. One of the men extends his hand out for me to hop into the seat next to him.
I do.
He drives us down a narrow, well-kept, gravel pathway—tall trees and low bushes bordering the path. I gazed over my shoulder; the cabin no longer in my sight.
My brows scrunch as I bring my gaze forward—my heart skips a beat, the wind brushes my face, and then my eyes go wide. I take in the massive structure ahead; it’s nestled right smack in the woods. It is wide in expansion, and its open, serene green grass is so beautifully cut—it’s like someone bent down with scissors and cut each blade of grass individually.
We ride through large iron gates. They seem like they belong in Dracula’s lair, and a black statue of a symbol shaped like a ‘G’ sits in the middle of the yard surrounded by more grass, black flowers, and cobblestone. Mahogany benches reside around with peoplewalking?
Where the hell am I?
He stops the UTV and urges me to get off. He guides me along the cobblestone paths, and I’m genuinely stunned. There are kids here.
Teenagers, to be exact, walk around aimlessly with textbooks in their hands, chatting along with their friends. I catch a few holding a device in their hands, swiping in the air; above each device there is a holographic image. I am unsure what it is, but it appears to be important. I scope out their wardrobe. Each of them wear a dark green sweater atop a white-collared shirt, paired with a black skirt or slacks. Some are wearing a blazer or plaid knee-high socks along with combat boots. Is that Oxford wear?
I must be in the wrong place.
I swallow, glancing around wearily as the students catch on to the random lady strolling alongside two of their men, their guns drawn. But they don’t look the least bit phased. Some nod, and some don’t even care, which strikes me as odd.
‘Eerie Courtyard’ is on a sign near the statue. We close the distance between us and the building, leveling approximately five floors. Dark brown and muted black paint the entire area, and two black columns frame the entrance of the?…?school?
My eyes roam the rest of the architecture, kicking my boots along the stone path. Two rustic brown lion statues post at the entry of a towering wood door.
“Where are we?” I ask as the first man pulls down the gold handle and opens it up with a creaking screech. Neither answer—leaving me confused as the door widens further.
The walls are painted in gray and black, and rustic brown furniture is displayed around the room, along with dark mahogany wooden flooring. More columns line each side, holding up a long, large balcony. Two grand staircases that lead to?…?I’m not sure yet. It looks like something out of Professor Xavier’s house, just more dark and elegant.
A screech broadens like a microphone being dropped then a throat clears.
“Great rising rebels, rampages, and riots. I hope your sunrise was as beautiful as usual. President Bryan will be assisting all new rebels on their journey today. It is just four months until Stygian day, which means riots and rampages will be partaking in the assessment. Headman requires your complete understanding. You lose, you start over.” The woman clears her throat again. “Please note curfew hours and that you are aware of those conditions. Now, I will leave you with the morning chant. Good day and good will.”
My gaze strays over to see the kids passing down the hall holding up the ‘G’ letter in ASL as they stroll off regularly with books in hand and quietly walking to their destination. I know the hand gestures because I learned ASL in high school. I even sang in a sign language musical for it too. That’s not relevant.