Voyager

Exit Strategies

Hello Lovlies, 

Welcome to MarriaMo_'s new book! Morgan and I have been drafting this plan for a while and I am beyond excited to publish it! 

However, first things first. You gotta know that when you are reading from the women, Amber's, predictive you are reading my writing. When you are reading the man, Silas' prospective you are reading Morgan's writing. 

Also, little note- we ARE going to continue to publish chapters for both this book and A Breath for Asia. We are hoping to get back to the schedule of 1 chapter a week. 

Above is a picture of our lovely Amber. 

Thank you all for your unwavering support. 

xoxox, 

Marianne

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Amber

My hands are covered in dried blood, my jeans knees stained from the dirt, and the smell of dust tickles my nose. But I am used to it, I retain my sneeze and gather my composure. Not wanting to risk making too much noise. I have mastered the art of scrambling through air vents. Since I was a little girl me and my brother would climb through these vents. Weather is was for fun, or to sneak into another family's home and steal food (usually bread loafs and canned fish) me and my brother would end up in the vents at least once a week.

As I pass by exit and exit I can't help but to think of my brother. Every exit, every section of these vents brings back a memory. One day when I was seven maybe, one of my long brown pigtails got caught in the fan to the left of me. The fan chopped my hair right off and I was left with not much more than a bob cut on one side. I began to sniffle and my face turned a bright shade of red, tears preparing to stream from my eyes.

"Short hair is edgy, Amber. Your hair matches your mind now." My brother reassured in a hushed but sturdy voice, pressing his index finger to my temple. Wiping a tear from my cheek I had continued to crawl. My brother always had a way of doing that. Calming me.

So you can imagine these last few months without him, I've been an angry mess. But that angry, sad, mess of a girl ends today. Because today, I'm getting my brother back.

This plan has been in the works since he got taken away. Since the shit-heads who run the government decided it was legal to arrest someone without telling them why. Without telling me why. But if that's how they want to play it. I will get my information elsewhere. I will get the information myself. Weather I have to bleed, fight and cry for it. I will find out where my brother is. Where they took him. 

As I reach the end of the vent, I kick open the grated cover that lies between me and answers. The grate falls on the porcelein tiled floor and a loud crashing echo bounces down the long white hallway. This is where the plan gets hazy. I have studied these hallways, observed them over the past few weeks. I have found that the guards rotations for this section are some what sporadic. Random almost. And sometimes on Tuesdays, today, there are guards right outside this vent. But on other Tuesdays, the hallway is empty. 

However, from the lack of response of the grated cover falling, I doubt there are any guards outside. As I reassure myself, swallowing a bit of my common sense, I begin the process of shimmying down the wall onto the ground. When my black boots hit the floor and I am pushed back up into the air a little bit. While the scientists have tried very hard to replicate the gravity of earth sometimes, in particularly low occupancy areas- such as this one, the gravity will get a little funky.