Total pages in book: 209
Estimated words: 196141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 981(@200wpm)___ 785(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 196141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 981(@200wpm)___ 785(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
Kaleb glances forward. They’re in front of the elevator.
“Also, you’re too light,” adds 987. “You’ve gotta eat more. Don’t worry, you’ll eat plenty at the bakery. My brother’s twice your size, you’ll love him. He makes this yummy sweetbread …”
The elevator opens, and there stands a nurse, arms crossed, her smirk triumphant. On the floor before her, another nurse, male, knocked out, small gash on his forehead, hair a mess. Was he against the plan? Did the plan involve knocking him out so the others could pass? Was any of this explained yesterday in the pipe room and Kaleb just wasn’t paying attention?
Next, he’s pulled into the elevator, 77 following, then 100 squeezing in after, nearly pressing Kaleb to the wall with his big wide back. He can’t see who else piles into the elevator before its doors shut and the chamber starts moving.
He turns to look at 987, beseeching him with his eyes, but 987 only keeps his hand over Kaleb’s mouth, an arm wrapped tightly around him, holding him in place. “What’s with 1025?” whispers someone in the front, annoyed. “Forget him, just stay focused. The second that door opens, remember …”
The elevator stops sooner than expected. Soft light from a weak light bulb pours in from outside. “Quick, quick,” hisses a voice. Kaleb finds himself lugged along like cargo. “You sure this is the way?” someone hisses out. “Just follow the nurse,” whispers someone else, “and hurry.” 987 keeps his firm grip on Kaleb, pulling him down a dim, long hallway, hospital-like in appearance, the air strangely cold, sterile, nearly stinging the nostrils. The walls are pale green. The floor is slightly reflective as they pass through pools of light coming from the occasional bulb in the ceiling. Is this where the lucky lower-numbered go every other week to give blood—a visual reprieve from the grey corridors below? Even the smooth, polished floors are kind to the feet, practically soft in comparison to the cells.
Despite his limited vision, Kaleb drinks in the sight with wonder. How lucky the lower-numbered are, to experience new and interesting environments up here, to see the house above, to know anything but the grey monotony of below.
But these gifts don’t feel right. Kaleb doesn’t deserve them. They are stealing these pleasures, breaking every rule, ruining their good standing.
The gag loosens on its own, drooping low enough to free Kaleb’s mouth. “987,” he finally says, choked, mouth dry.
“You okay?” whispers 987 back. “Hey, don’t be scared. I’m not scared. I’m excited. You feel that exhilaration in your heart yet? You feel how possible everything is becoming?”
Indeed, Kaleb’s heart pounds in his ears, but he isn’t sure yet whether it’s with excitement or dread. If they are caught, what will happen to them? Will they be deprived of food for a day? Confined to their cells? Made examples out of for the rest of the Bloods? Kaleb doesn’t want to test how creative such punishments from the gods and goddesses can be.
“Please,” begs Kaleb.
987 huffs, already annoyed. “We’re not going back. Keep moving, 1025, I swear …”
The ones ahead come to an abrupt stop, Kaleb stumbling into the back of his friend. 304 points, wrinkling her face as she whispers: “Hey, what the hell? The elevator …”
“What?” 100 comes forward. “So? There’s more than one. Probably several.”
“It’s the same fucking elevator we came from,” she hisses back, then smacks her boyfriend 303’s arm. “Did we just run around in a circle?”
“How could we?” 303 asks. “We’ve only ran straight ahead after making a single left turn. The hallways don’t bend.”
The nurse from the elevator steps forward with confidence. “It’s just ahead,” she insists. “Don’t be deceived. I work up here more often than any of you. The House is made of illusions. It is meant to trick us. But it cannot trick us if we know the way.”
304 frowns at the nurse, then peers back at everyone else. “You guys sure we can trust this?”
303, appearing embarrassed by his girlfriend, comes close to her, his voice sweetening. “Of course, 4, why wouldn’t we? She wants out of here as badly as we do.”
“She’s got privileges up here as a nurse,” 304 goes on, not caring to sugarcoat her words in the least, “motivation to stay, to be useful. Why would this privileged nurse with a privileged life be so keen to get out of here? Let alone to help us? What if she’s working with them?”
77 rolls his eyes and looks away, mutters, “For fuck’s sake.”
“It’s a pact we all made,” 303 reminds her, “us versus them, humans first, always. She knows. She takes our blood. She—”
“She’s never taken my blood,” says 304. “Never even seen her until today.”
“4 …” pleads her boyfriend.
The nurse patiently crosses her arms. “It’s up to you. Come with me, or head back now. But the further we go, the less easy it will be to return. The House will try to trap you, especially if you’re on your own. I’ve seen it happen myself.” The nurse’s thin lips twist as she studies each of them, one at a time. “You have to make your choice now.”