Not What It Seems | Octavia Blake [2]

Chapter 14

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Addison

  She wondered the corridors the next morning, the information from the previous night engrained in her memory. She promised Emilia to keep her lips sealed, and she will.

"And you have a plan?"

"Of course I do. We'll discuss it after we sort through our latest subjects . . ."

The words echoed like an annoying song stuck in her head.

"Hey."

Addison jumped. She inhaled sharply, to calm her fast beating heart. "Please, do not do that again," she snapped, under her breath.

Dawson smiled sheepishly as he placed his tray of breakfast down, then sat beside her in the Mess Hall. "Sorry." He tore the bread slice in half and popped a chunk in his mouth. "What's gotten into you?" he swallowed and nudged her shoulder with his elbow, "Looks like you've seen a ghost."

Worse. "I'm fine. Didn't sleep much, that's all." Addison scooped some of her own food and inserted it in her mouth. She felt sick, but she needed something in her system.

"If you say so, nine-lives —I won't pry. But I noticed you've been spending a lot of your time with Emilia. What's up with that? Over Octavia al-"

Addison grabbed a fist full of the collar of his shirt and tightened her jaw. "I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you. You forget my forte on the ground, Dawson."

"News flash," Dawson tried to pull his shirt free, but she clenched the fabric harder, "we're not up there anymore —we're underground."

"News flash to you," Addison shoved him back, "you're not getting any pointers from me. And this whole underground living? It sucks. You seem to be enjoying yourself."

"It's not as bad as you're making it to be, Addison." Dawson straightened the collar of his shirt back to normal, though some of it was wrinkled where Addison's grip was the tightest.

You don't know what I do. "I don't like it," she muttered, on edge as she looked around. Experiments on Grounders, done by the people that supposedly "saved" her and her people. After what she'd seen, who knows what the Mountain Men have planned for them? What's to say they won't do the same? What if the Grounders are the good guy, and we've been fighting the wrong war?

Dawson scoffed, taken back while a chuckle was in the back of his throat, "What's there not to like about this place? I mean, yeah we're underground and it sucks, but we don't have to worry if there'll be a next meal. Down here, there will always be food on the table three times a day. No surviving, no wars —this place is paradise in disguise."

"Paradise . . ." Addison couldn't help by mock. "Nothing about this place screams 'paradise'." The only screams are below us in the Harvest Chamber, where Grounders are held captive like animals. "The Ark was better."

"Anything is better than that place," commented Miller, from behind her and Dawson as he approached, tray in hand. "The Ark sucked." Miller sat across from them.

"Guys," Jasper hurried over. "President Wallace wants me to come to his office after breakfast."

  Addison stiffened as her heart quickened. "For what?"