The Reaping by Annie Oldham Page B

tunnel, still keeping a hand on my cheek. “Find a doctor’s uniform, I think. Scrubs or a doctor’s coat. Anything to make it look like we belong there. I know enough about medicine that I’m sure I can play the part. You could be a patient. That way no one will expect you to say a word.”
    I bristle at the insinuation—that patients are nonentities—but it’s true, the way the government sees us. We’re commodities, nothing more. The only thing we’re good for is slave labor and experimentation. Jack sees the look in my eyes.
    “Don’t waste that energy on me. You’ll need it later.”
    I suck in a breath and close my eyes. He’s right. I’ll need all my energy for what’s ahead of us. I put my foot on the first step. Jack touches my arm.
    “Let me go first.”
    I roll my eyes. I love the chivalrous side of him, but if one of us is going to get captured—or heaven forbid, killed—it should be me. Jack is too good and kind.
    He laughs. “I know, I know. You’re not going to listen to me. It was worth a try, though.”
    I squeeze his hand and take another step and head down into the tunnel.

Chapter Seven
    I trail my fingers along the bricks as we go down, and I feel like I’m in a cave. The lights flicker every so often and cast long, wavering shadows down the corridor. There is nothing but red bricks on all sides of us and other brick corridors that lead away into darkness. I cling to the side of the passage. I feel like a rat in a maze down here, sniffing my way to the reward. Jack follows me so closely his breath is warm on my neck. I’ve been so used to treading lightly in the forest that the scuff scuff my shoes make on the floor hammers in my ears. Up ahead two tunnels fork off from this one, and I slow down. All the way from the train station, we never came across an intersection of tunnels, and the fact that I can’t see what lies around the corner unnerves me. My fingers creep along the wall toward the corner, and I’m ready to peek around and down the passage next to us, when Jack grabs my arm and yanks me back. He puts a finger to his lips.
    I hear voices.
    A man and a woman, but I can’t make out their words. They speak just above a whisper, and their voices float toward us from the tunnel I almost looked down. Jack and I flatten against the wall and I barely breathe. Another sound comes—the creak of wheels. The man raises his voice.
    “I told them he couldn’t withstand much more. We may have an unlimited supply of test subjects, but if we seriously damage each one just at the verge of a breakthrough, we’ll never succeed. The schedule is too rigorous; surely the president can see that.”
    The woman snorts. “And do you want to go to the government island and tell her?”
    The footsteps and wheels stop. The man clears his throat. “Please don’t tell anyone I said anything.”
    “You honestly think I would? Why do you think I prefer the tunnels? I don’t like my every word recorded by a watcher.” The wheels and footsteps resume. “I don’t know how I ever got myself into this mess.”
    The woman’s voice is close now. I turn my head, expecting to see her at any moment. There’s a click and a soft whoosh, and the tunnels are silent.
    Where? I ask Jack. His eyebrows turn down and he shakes his head. I wriggle free from his grasp and inch my head around the corner. All I see is a tunnel identical to this one.
    Gone , I tell him, and he creeps around me and stands in the open.
    “They can’t have disappeared.”
    I narrow my eyes and study the corridor. The walls are perfectly uniform except for there, just past the wire-caged light. A slight bump stands out. I touch it, and Jack comes over to look.
    “A door?”
    I nod. There’s nothing else it could be. I dig my fingers around all the edges, but I can’t see how to open it.
    “Are you sure you want to go in there? Those people could be in there and we’d have nowhere to go.”
    But I do want to get in. I need to see