xvii. bound

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Adrenaline kickstarted my pounding heart into overdrive. The primal part of my mind urged me to run, but I had to resist that instinct. The pummel of footsteps again stone would echo, revealing my location immediately. Moreover, in the absolute darkness, I would likely wind up falling on my face after a few strides. 

It was in times like these that I tried to consider, "What would Kyle do?"

But at the moment, nothing came to mind. My brain was occupied by my effort to stay completely silent while navigating the unfamiliar location in the dark. Every moment was also tinged with fear and anxiety, which had a way of throwing all careful, rational thought out the window.

As I continued feeling my way along the cold stone walls, it dawned on me that I must have actually been in some sort of tunnel system. The passage seemed to stretch on endlessly. I silently prayed that it contained some sort of exit to the surface.

I slowed to sneak a glance behind me. I didn't want to—it felt better not to know how close my demise was—but I needed to know. 

What I saw made me momentarily freeze in terror, like a deer in headlights. There were five blinding beams of light in the distance. As I watched, they distinctly increased in brightness—getting closer. 

A shudder of intense dread rippled through my body. This time, I couldn't resist my instincts. I took off at a jogging pace, bounding with light, cautious footsteps. I kept my right arm outstretched just enough for my fingertips to brush against the wall.

After a minute of carrying on like that, my hand glanced off something on the wall, and I skidded to a stop. I backtracked a few feet and felt around, quickly locating the object I'd made contact with. It was a horizontal metal bar, jutting out parallel to the wall. As I felt around more, I realized there were more identical bars both above and below it. 

A ladder! It felt like my only hope—a chance to escape. I didn't hesitate in grabbing onto the rungs and hoisting myself upward. 

After ascending probably twenty feet, my head bounced against something hard. I unclamped one hand so I could examine it. My fingers made contact with cold metal—a heavy, round hatch to the surface. My heart jumped with a new glint of hope.

With my free hand, I struggled to turn the handle to open the hatch. When it finally budged, it unleashed a piercing metallic screech that I knew would alert the soldiers. My movements became frantic as I tried desperately to twist the handle, making even more noise. I was sure they already knew my location, so there was no point in trying to stay quiet any longer. 

I managed to turn the handle until it wouldn't move anymore. I tried to push upward with my free hand, but the hatch only lifted an inch, and the burst of light that shone inside was disorienting. 

The footsteps and shouts were now dangerously close, but I tried to ignore them. I climbed farther up the ladder, bracing my feet against the highest rung so I could push with the strongest muscles of my body. Then I positioned my shoulder against the hatch, gripping the handle to hold myself in place. 

With all of the effort left in my tired body, I heaved upward.

In a split second, my world transformed from a cold, suffocating black void to an overwhelming blaze of searing sunlight. I shielded my eyes, as blinded by the light as I had been by its absence in the cathedral's basement. 

"She's up there. Get her!" someone shouted from below. Immediately, I was mentally transported back to the moment Kyle was captured climbing the ladder to the school's roof. Ladders are bad luck, I decided.

My eyes began to adjust to the light—I could make out the contrast of vibrant green treetops against the pale blue sky. I thrust myself through the open hatch, gearing up to run. 

However, my tense legs turned to jelly at the sight of four figures in black, all standing over me with weapons aimed at my face. I collapsed onto my knees.

An additional figure popped out of the hatch after me. The man shot me a wild, wide-eyed grin and said, "There's nowhere to run or hide, Tess. No one can save you now." His voice was dripping with smug arrogance. "We already caught all of your friends."

"No," I mouthed, in disbelief and denial. 

I crouched like a tightly coiled spring, prepared to bolt if I saw the opportunity. The man climbed from the ladder and rose to his feet to tower over me. I craned my neck to hold his eyes, searching for any hint of deception.

"You're under arrest," he said in a more formal, authoritative tone. "I suggest you make this easier for yourself and go without a fight, or—"

My next actions were not thought out in the slightest, fueled entirely by desperation and anger.  

I lunged forward and grabbed the man's ankles, yanking them toward me. He collapsed flat on his back, grunting as the impact forced the air from his lungs. I caught a glimpse of his face, and his eyes contained nothing but violent fury.

I reached to draw my knife from my belt, but someone caught my arm. With ease, they yanked me up, entirely off the ground, and slammed me face-first into the ground. 

My head whirled as I blinked the dirt from my eyes. Suddenly, something was thrown on top of me, and I heard an electronic beep. At the sound, the strange object seemed to begin to move by itself. 

Still stunned from the impact, I slowly realized that the object—whatever it was—was wrapping itself around me. Thick, flexible bands slithered over my clothes and exposed skin like a serpent. This snapped me back into focus, and I urgently tried to squirm away, thrashing my arms and legs.

But my struggling did no good—the unforgiving bonds merely wrapped themselves tighter in response, soon making it impossible to move my arms from my sides. 

Still, I continued to fight until I was rendered completely immobile and utterly exhausted. By the end, I was dripping with sweat, and I strained to breathe with bands wrapped crushingly tightly around my rib cage.

I had been so wrapped up in trying to free myself that I'd stopped registering the soldiers standing around me. They came back into focus as I panted, limp with humiliating resignation. As I would expect, they were taunting and mocking me. 

I tore my gaze from them and focused solely on breathing, deeply, in and out. I noted that, after a minute of staying still, the bonds seemed to loosen slightly, and I could breathe easier.

"Alright, enough fun. Take her to the truck," someone ordered. 

My world tilted as I realized I was being lifted.

It was beginning to sink in. It was really happening—my worst nightmare playing out in reality, and I had no choice but to go along for the ride. Some part of me felt a horrified curiosity at the prospect of finally discovering what they wanted from us—what was about to happen to me.

I was too worn out to panic any longer, so I shut my eyes hard and imagined I was somewhere else. 

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