Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
When you’ve got nothing to lose, it’s easy to risk it all. For the most part, the only way left is up.
Where I am right now—in a state of transition where a new opportunity is so close, I can almost reach out and grab it—this is where mistakes are made. Mistakes that can trash that new opportunity so fast, it becomes nothing but a fleeting moment of unrealized gains.
But this same transitory state is also where better times and bright futures are born.
I want to stay here at Edge. I want the compound, I want the PT, I want the structure, I want the paycheck, I want the dog, I want these men to have my back while I have theirs—I want all of it.
But I also want to help this girl. I want her to come through the other side of the darkness and look at the world around her as a second chance instead of just a death sentence.
And the reason I want this for her is because I want this for me.
I’m just not convinced it can be done.
But I’m gonna give it a try. So I walk over to the corner of the room, press my back up against the glass wall, and slide down it until I’m sitting next to her. She doesn’t look at me, but that’s fine. I’m gonna do all the talking.
“Did I ever tell you about the time I was a secret double agent for the Underhaven? Have you ever heard of that place?”
She doesn’t look at me. Doesn’t respond at all.
“I was a Deep Recon Specialist. DRS.”
“I already know this,” she says, softly. But it’s more of an angry hiss than a gentle whisper. “I know more than you do.”
I smile. At least she’s talking. And now I know she can hear me. “Of course you do. You’re still active and I was discarded years ago.”
She turns her head now, her long blonde hair hanging in her face, her eyes dark, a sharp contrast to her almost pale white face under this too-bright light.
She doesn’t say anything else, so I just continue. “I had this partner. We were paired up when we were kids.” Olive blinks here, perhaps thinking about how old she was when she was paired up with this Ambrose Sinclair guy. “Because we only work in pairs, right? Deep Recon needs an agent and a handler.”
“You were her handler?” Her question is sincere and less angry than her last statement.
“No. She was mine. I was the agent.”
Olive turns a little in my direction, still folded up with her knees pulled up to her chest, but leaning against the wall now. “What was her name?”
I don’t remember her name, but I make one up for Olive. It’s hard to relate to nameless people. “Waters.”
Olive makes a face. “Waters? What kind of name is that?”
“It was her last name. Actually, her last name was Waterson. She called me Shep, for Shephard, and I called her Waters.”
“Oh.” She says this with the smallest of smiles.
“Yeah, so anyway she was my handler and I was sent into deep cover in the underground free zone called the Underhaven. Have you heard of it?”
She shakes her head no.
“It’s a shithole, mostly. Lots of crime, lots of drugs, lots of dissidents.”
“What was your mission?”
I don’t remember this either, but this time I don’t make it up because I know that Amon and Collin are listening and lies are not the way forward with them. The more lies I tell Olive, the more I’ll have to explain to Amon and Collin later. It’s not gonna help me, so I tell her the truth. “I can’t remember.”
Olive doesn’t like this answer. “Why are you telling me this? I mean, who cares? Especially if you can’t even remember your mission.”
“I’m telling you this because I know what it feels like to be connected to your partner.”
She scoffs. “You haven’t got a fucking clue what that feels like. And you know what? I don’t wanna hear your stupid story. Remember what you told me outside the diner? You said I’ll never know your truth because if I knew, they’d kill one of us.” She points to herself, then to me. “That’s what you said. So your story is bullshit.”
“It’s not bullshit.” I say this with contempt, but inside I’m pretty happy with her recollection of that conversation. It’s a good sign. “Look around, Olive. Where are you?”
“What do you mean? I’m not fucking crazy. I’m in the Edge Security prison.”
I force myself not to laugh. She’s not crazy? She literally just stole Collin Creed’s sidearm off his person, pointed it at his face, and pulled the trigger. But the fact that she’s participating in this conversation is a step forward, so I make sure that laugh doesn’t come out.