COMPETE: The Atlantis Grail (Book Two) - Preview

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (draft)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

We stand in a sorry crowd of very scared teens in the back of the meal hall. I glance at Blayne who's still seated and motionless, and move as close to him as I can. Logan moves with me, his fingers touching mine briefly.

The six shooters herd us up against the wall, and four of them remain while two move aside to whisper among themselves. Then I see one of the two, a girl, step away and quietly exit the room though the entrance, still brandishing her gun. I have a feeling she's been told to guard the entryway.

"All right, everyone!" Masked a-hole Trey speaks again, loudly. "This is what's going to happen here. You are all going to stand quietly against the wall and do what we tell you to do, or you get shot. Right now, remain quiet. Got that? Comprende?"

Some of the people nod, but most of us remain motionless and silent, watching.

While Trey is speaking, two other guys pace slowly, looking at us, while the two girls stand off to the sides, guns pointed.

"You—why are you sitting? Get up! Now!" A masked guy notices Blayne seated against the wall and points a gun at him.

Blayne blinks. "I can't, my feet don't work, sorry," he says softly. "I need my hoverboard just to stand. It's under the table."

"What the hell?" The guy steps closer. It looks like he's about to shoot Blayne.

"No, wait!" I exclaim. I'm trembling, and now my stupid big fat mouth goes into overdrive. "He really can't! He's disabled! Please let him be!" I say loudly in a high-pitched squeaky voice.

The guy with the gun whirls toward me. I see his eyes through the slits of his black fabric mask, considering me.

Trey, who seems to be their leader, hears and looks at us, then takes the steps to narrow the distance. He looks closely at me, then Blayne. "Hey, I know you two," he says crudely. "You're the 'special treatment' cases, aren't you? The girl who's not a Cadet and not a Civ, and the boy who's got the fancy hoverboard?"

As Trey speaks, I see Logan's eyes watching me with a very intense burning gaze. It's pleading me to be careful. . . .

"So," Trey says, moving in closer to me. "You're what? An Aide to the CCO? That's just great! With him and you, we've got us a nice pair of bargaining chips. And a hoverboard!" And he kicks the table where Blayne is sitting, which is fastened to the floor, and doesn't budge. So he bends under to look for the board.

"What do you want?" I ask, watching his movements. "What do you hope to achieve with this? You just killed a bunch of innocent people!"

In reply I receive a hard blow against the side of my head from the other masked gunman who's right next to me. The impact sends me backwards, reeling, so that for a moment I see black nothing and stars. Logan's hands reach out and close around me, keeping me upright while I blank out, keeping me from falling. A few barely repressed gasps sound from the other hostages.

"All of you shut up! And you, you especially, just shut your mouth," Trey tells me, straightening, with the hoverboard pulled out from underneath the table and now in his hand. He approaches, dragging the inert length of orichalcum against the floor and leans in, hissing in my face, as I blink from the harsh blow. "But before you do, what's your name?"

"Gwen Lark," I mumble.

Trey smirks. "Okay, Gwen Lark! Now, we're going to make a few calls, and you'll be speaking for us."

He then sets down the hoverboard in the middle of the floor, grabs hold of my arm and pulls me forward.

"Hey!" Logan speaks up, trying to keep his hold on me.