Jett crouched over the crumpled body of a Troit soldier, his breaths coming in harsh pants. A few feet away, a second man sprawled on the floor by the wall. His fingers still curled loosely around a gun.
A shudder wracked Jett's small frame, nearly knocking him over. His heart tried its best to beat its way out of his chest; whether from adrenaline or sickness, he didn't know. Warily, he shifted his gaze to the far wall, then across the floor. Blackened little pocks had been scorched in a jagged line across both surfaces, evidence of the gunfire that had nearly cleaved him in two.
It had been a close one.
These guys were the second batch he'd run into since he'd first entered the building. It was a small miracle that he'd managed to take them down without collapsing himself.
You can do this, Jett tried to encourage himself. But even his mental voice sounded as lively as a four-day old corpse. Instead of feeling encouraged, it only made him feel more depressed.
With a soft, weary exhale, he rose. Instantly, he saw stars and his vision seemed to warp a little. Crap, moved too fast. It took a moment for his head to clear, but even then, he was still plagued by a persistent lightheadedness.
He decided to ignore the fact that his extremities started to tremor on their own. A small facial muscle near his left eye suddenly ticked, before tagging the cheek muscle just below it. It gave a weak spasm, which felt kind of weird. Jett didn't pay it much mind.
Frankly, if he was his own body, he'd be freaking out too. This whole mission sucked.
Jett continued down the hall, his steps somewhat erratic and wobbly. It couldn't be that much further. It felt like he'd gone through a mile of hallways already, turning left twice when they branched. He'd passed several unmarked metal doors, too.
He stopped, a horrible thought occurring to him. What if he'd already passed the cell door? Moxie said to look for a metal door with a small window and weird lock. And there was a whole lot of metal doors...
He sucked in a shaky breath, then turned to look at the way he'd come. It was a really long way. Turning back, he rubbed his forehead with thumb and forefinger, absently trying to ease the throbbing ache.
I'm probably just being paranoid. I'll go a bit further, and if I have to, I can turn back later. With that thought, he moved on, continuing on deeper into the building.
Shortly after, he came to a huge open door. More than twice the size of other ones he'd seen, it easily took up almost the entire height of wall it was embedded into. A pair of buses could probably drive through side by side.
Curious as to what such a huge door was for, Jett made a beeline towards it, intending to walk right through.
"Again?" A young woman's voice stopped Jett dead in his tracks. "You sure you're not cheating?"
Male laughter drifted into the hallway. "Sweetheart, I wouldn't cheat you. Promise."
"You expect me to believe that after you've swindled me out of eighty bucks?"
The man chuckled. "Tell you what, then. One last round. If you win, I'll give you back your eighty."
"And if you win?" The woman sounded a little wary.
"Then you owe me a small favour," the man easily responded, his tone warm and friendly. Maybe a little too friendly, Jett thought. This guy was clearly up to no good, and that lady would be an idiot to go along with it.
YOU ARE READING
Sequel to I AM A FLYER The common people fear and loathe him, yet he's determined to protect them. The military organization that he betrayed calls for his death. And the madman who has begun sending out armies of mechanical warriors to burn the w...