Page 109 of Thorne
29
The Round
JULIANNA
The alarm isa vibration in my teeth. Red light pulses against the concrete, timed to the jagged shriek of the klaxon.
Three bursts. Heartbeat. Three bursts. Breach.
Thorne is gone. My mind is already at the end of the hall, inside the third door on the right.
Lily!
She has no idea she's the target.
I'm at the sink before the strobe hits its third cycle. I know where the panel is because I've spent every night tracing the seams of this room. I dig my fingers into the plastic housing, snapping a nail as I rip the cover away.
The emergency release is a lever of cold iron. I grab it, brace my feet, and pull.
The magnetic bolt fights me for a second before it gives.
Clack.
The door is just a piece of steel now. I yank hard and hit the hallway at a run.
The red light turns the corridor into a series of disconnected still -frames. My breath is a hot rasp in my throat.Pop-pop-pop.
Gunfire. Sharp and close. It's coming from the loading bay, followed by the heavy thud of a breaching charge.
I reach Lily's door and burst inside.
She's a shaking heap on the bed; Theodore crushed against her chest. Her eyes wide and fixed on the door.
"Julianna?" Her voice is a fragile thread. "The bad sounds … They won't stop."
I drop to my knees beside the bed and force my voice into the same steady anchor we use for our math lessons.
"Hey. Look at me, Lily. Do you remember the partner numbers?"
A heavy boom shakes the floor. Dust rains from the ceiling. Lily whimpers.
"Focus, Lily. What's 8's partner?"
"2." Her whisper is barely a breath.
"Good. 7?"
"3."
"What about 5?"
"5 is its own partner." Lily sucks in a ragged breath, her small chest heaving. "It's the middle."
"Exactly. Now, I need you to be the middle. I need you to be brave like Theodore." I pull her toward the door. "We're going to my room. It has the big steel door. We're going to lock it and play the silent game."
She scrambles off the bed, clutching the dinosaur. I keep my body between her and the hallway, peering into the red-soaked corridor.
It's empty.
