The Sky is Everywhere

Chapter Thirty-Nine

On some level, I hadn't quite given up hope yet.

On some level, I still thought there was a way out of this, that Roan would be able to rescue me somehow.

But now, as I travel below the CC, to a place where Roan can't reach me, that shred of hope withers and dies.

I tilt my head up, looking up at the polished metal ceiling, my blurred reflection looking back at me, and think of my sky, getting further and further away as we descend into the ground.

Oh, Roan.

I want to cry, but I'm too tired.

The lift judders to a stop, and an awful finality settles over me. We're here then, at the place where I'm going to die.

The doors slide open, but I can't see anything beyond, just darkness.

Fear pricks up my spine.

What is waiting there in the shadows? Will I be cut down as soon as I step out of the lift?

One of the Handlers shoves me again, and I lift my head high as I walk out and into the darkness. I will not let these monsters see me cry.

They each take one of my arms, directing me where to go, but we don't get far before we suddenly stop. I brace myself, waiting for something awful to happen. Their hands leave my arms and a moment later there's a strange whooshing noise all around me.

I spin around, but it's too dark to see. How did the Handlers manage it?

Experience, probably. They've done this many, many times by now.

I'm very aware that I can't hear them anymore – their breathing, the faint rustle of their clothes. Have they gone?

Tentatively I stretch out a hand and my fingers meet glass. I feel my way along, looking for an edge, but there's none. I turn to my left, still feeling, but there's just more glass. It's everywhere I turn, and I realise that I'm in some sort of glass box, smaller than the lift.

Fear clutches my heart, crushing my wings.

I try not to think of Roan up there, frantically trying to reach me, and never knowing that I'm going to die down here, alone in the dark.

Who will get to kill me?

Cole?

Lights flare on suddenly, and I jump, hitting my elbow on the glass behind me.

My mouth drops open.

I am in one of ten glass boxes, positioned in the middle of a low-ceilinged room, painted all in shades of black and grey. There's no furniture, though sections of the room appear to be divided by random black panels, and there are no windows or doors, except for the lift behind us, just black walls, a grey carpet and ceiling, and ten glass boxes of Seconds.

I look around, and my stomach squeezes into a painful ball.

Taffy is in a box to my left; next to her is Priya, and further back I spot Sonny's bright red curls.

Taffy is frantically mouthing something at me, tears running down her face, and I'm slow to realise why I can't hear her.

The boxes are soundproofed.

Anger is a quick blade.

They wouldn't even let us try and comfort each other in our last moments.

I scan the room again. If there are only ten of us here then this can't be the only room – I definitely counted more than ten people marked as Prey on that list in Records.