The Girl Who Dared to Think 7: The Girl Who Dared to Fight

I dropped my arm from over Lynch’s chest and took a step down the hall past Rose. “Get back to Lacey and keep her safe,” I told him. “And get every door sealed before it’s too late. We’ll see what we can do to hold them off while the Cogs seal the door!”

Lynch’s eyes grew wide, but he nodded and reached out to place his hands on my shoulders. “Good luck to you, Liana!” he shouted as the noise in the hall grew to a crescendo.

“You as well,” I said, reaching up to cup his hand and hoping the brave man made it through whatever horrors came next.

Then we let go of each other, and I moved to keep up with Rose, Dylan only a step behind me. We raced down the corridor toward the throng of people. I knew there was a sentinel out there, and I prayed that it was only one. Rose would be able to hold off just one. Any more than that, and we were screwed.

But not as screwed as the Tower was going to be if those Cogs closed the door before we were on the other side of it. We were the only ones who had any idea of what to do—the only ones who could do anything to stop it. We had to keep moving, keep fighting, or Sage would figure out a way to make his plan work without Tony.

Hell, for all I knew, all he really needed was Leo.

The line of people thinned to a trickle as we reached the door, but I wasn’t certain whether the crowd outside had caught wind of Rose, or if everyone had managed to get inside. A few seconds later, it didn’t matter.

We crossed the threshold into the shell, the light through the door casting a pool around us that seemed feeble next to the pitch-black darkness, and I came to a sudden halt, every bone in my body telling me that the threat was very, very near. A quiet stillness came over my body as I clicked on the hand light that Tony had wrapped around my forearm, channeling the light into a slim, powerful beam. I took a moment to pull out my gun and click the safety off, and then drew my baton, lighting up a charge.

It might not do much, but it could buy me a second, and I’d often defied death by merely a second or two. Why stop doing it now?

For all my bravado, inside I was quaking. I could feel Alice’s presence out there, like a deep taint that was slowly rotting the Tower from the inside out. She may have been a victim of Sage’s torture, but whatever he had done had unleashed something dark and cruel inside of her.

I lifted my arm up, shining the light around, and then flinched at the sudden sound of grating behind me. I turned and saw the door sliding closed, slowly killing the light. I realized our only escape was disappearing—and I still hadn’t figured out where the sentinel was hiding.

Turning back to the hall in front of me, I resumed my search, my eyes half watching the darkness for any gleams of metal, and half focused on the darkness for any sign of golden eyes. But my light only revealed the hall, empty, stretching out before us for as far as the light carried.

I took a step forward into the darkness and checked the hall to the left and right, the hair on my body standing upright, every inch of me tense and ready for action.

But even after several desperate flashes with the light, there was nothing.

The people just heard the noise and came running, Tony finally said, breaking his silence. You’re being paranoid, and wasting time. Get to the outer shell so you can get outside.

It took me several seconds, but then I realized he was right. “It’s clear,” I said to the others. “Let’s go.”

I started to head down the hall in front of me, and then paused, trying to orient myself. The shell toward the base of the Tower was almost impossible to navigate with the lights on. It was going to be a nightmare in the dark.

Inside my head, Tony laughed, the sensation making me feel like a boat bobbing in a turbulent body of water. You’re so lucky I’m here, he said. Go straight to the end and turn left. I’ll update you as we go. Should only take ten minutes to get to the outer shell.

Ten minutes alone, in the dark, with insane, murderous sentinels running amok, I thought, striding forward down the hall.

Just great.





17





The dark is a terrible and malicious nemesis. Sounds are enhanced in it, making every groan and shout seem as if it were coming from right next to you. Light is swallowed by it, leaving you encased in a dim halo that seems a thin barrier against it. Objects that you pass by every day become terrifying, looming up unexpectedly with sinister intent, and creating shadows in which the enemy could hide.

Every step we made was a dead giveaway of our presence. Every pass of the light down an open hall, a beacon to the enemy. There was a chance of imminent attack at every corner, and my body responded to it by flooding me with adrenaline and endorphins, trying to keep my senses sharp.

Even with Tony’s guidance, I felt hopelessly lost and confused. There was no way to tell what direction we were going, and the markings on the hallway were unhelpful without my pad to track my position. The halls were marked, of course, but I didn’t have every level memorized. If I had been trying to get us out alone, we would never have even made it to the outer shell.

As it was, I was really surprised that we did without encountering a single person or sentinel. It seemed like an absolute impossibility, given what I had witnessed in the halls earlier, but when Tony announced, That’s the door to the outer part of the shell, my heart felt like it could’ve imploded in relief.

I made my way toward the pressure hatch he had indicated, but took pains to check the hall around it, making sure there wasn’t a sentinel lurking in the darkness. The light on my arm chased away the black inkiness, revealing a gray pipe running from the floor to the ceiling, followed by several more feet of wall, interrupted again by another pipe. Overhead, lights—useless now—and bundles of cables and pipes ran along the ceiling. I could imagine a sentinel hiding up there, like some sort of spider lying in wait, but my light revealed nothing. Not on the ceiling, nor on the other side of the hall.

I exhaled a breath I didn’t know I had been holding, and turned back to the others, lowering the light to the door. “It’s clear,” I said, keeping my voice whisper soft.

Dylan nodded and stepped up to the door, her hands going to the wheel. I took a step closer, not because I intended to help or take over, but because being too far away from her light made me feel vulnerable and exposed. Maybe it was fear, or a survival instinct, but either way, I did it.

She grunted as she tried to turn the handle, and to my surprise, really leaned into it, adding the strength of her legs and her body weight.

The wheel refused to budge.

Dylan pushed off of it and flashed me a confused look. “I don’t understand,” she whispered. “I’m not that weak. I can bench press two hundred and fifty pounds!”

I blinked at her, impressed by her physical prowess, and then looked back at the door. “I’m not sure,” I finally said. “Maybe it was damaged? Or someone realized there were sentinels in the inner shell and barricaded it from the other side?”

“May I try?” Rose asked, and I looked at the sentinel. Or rather, I looked up at her, past what seemed like miles and miles of robotic strength.

“Absolutely,” I replied, taking a step back to give her some room. Dylan followed suit.

Rose stepped up to the door, her wide form almost completely obscuring it. I couldn’t see what happened next, but there was a loud, heavy groan for several long seconds—time enough for me to turn around and scan the hallway behind us. There wasn’t any sign of movement, but I had to believe that if they were close enough to hear the sound, they’d be coming soon.

We needed to be gone before they got here.

“What’s wrong?” I heard Dylan whisper behind me, and I looked over my shoulder to see that Rose had taken a step back, the door still unopened.