Page 95 of Fragmented Illusions
Green.
It beeps and the door groans and clicks as it unlocks. I hurriedly grab the handle and yank it open before it locks again. I shove Spencer through and shut the door behind us slowly to diminish the sound of it clicking closed.
My chest is heaving, showcasing my anxiety—another foreign feeling I despise. I clench my fists and push it away.
I need to fucking focus and all of these… emotions are distracting me.
“Sol…” Spencer’s voice wavers and I snap my gaze to him. His tanned face has paled slightly and that alone as my apprehension skyrockets again.
I force my eyes to the direction in which his gaze is locked on and what my gaze falls on has a ball of fear festering in the pit of my stomach. My pulse jumps and bile shoots up my throat.
What the fuckisthis place?
I roam my eyes around the short hallway, taking in everything. It’s white. Every fucking inch. The floor, the walls, the ceiling, the doors. All of it is bleach white. So bright, it reflects the light and burns my eyes.
There are four doors on each side of the hall, spaced apart from one another. No sounds emit from any of the rooms, only a ringing silence surrounding us.
“I don’t like this, brother. We need to find Fallon and get out of here.”
I nod and start walking down the hall, each step slow and deliberate. I can hear Spencer’s footsteps beside me as he focuses on the left side, while I focus at the right.
We pass the first set of doors. I peer inside the tiny one foot by one foot window. There is someone inside, lying on the bed, covered in a thin white sheet. Their hair is long and brown—not my Fallon—so I quickly move on to the next room.
As I walk, my footsteps thud, echoing throughout the silent hallway. It feels as if time is dragging on. Although I’m sure it has only been a few minutes, my thundering heart and racing pulse only magnifies time slowing.
We need to hurry.
I move on to the second door. This one contains a man. He’s sitting on the floor with a sheet wrapped around him, staring blankly at the wall, and completely unmoving. I can’t even tell if he’s breathing.
He looks like a fucking zombie.
“Sol!” Spencer’s voice snaps me into action. I tear my gaze away from the man and dart to him. He’s peering into the third room on the left side of the hall. He moves his head to the side as I step directly behind him, pressing my entire front to his back.
My heavy breathing fogs up the glass and I have to make myself slow my breathing—which is nearly impossible when my eyes lock on a redhead lying on her side, curled into a ball on a bed.
My heart jumps into my throat so hard and so fast, I nearly pass out. I push myself away from Spencer and he stumbles away from the door. He reaches for his card, and it fumbles in his hands from the intensity that they are trembling.
I wrap my left hand around his and hold his arm steady. His eyes meet mine for a mere second, love and fear meshing so perfectly. Together, we swipe his hard through the reader and instant relief has me exhaling deeply when the door clicks open.
The heavy electronic clicking sound is almost identical to the one you hear in movies when prison guards open the doors in prison. It’s loud and telling, so we need to act fast. We have already opened a couple of doors I am sure have been heard by other people. There are also cameras, where our identity is as clear as day.
We rush into the room, a mess of limbs as we rush past one another, desperate to get Fallon and get the fuck out of here before shit gets worse. We’re both aware we’re running out of time and it’s not looking good for us.
Spencer and I reach Fallon at the same time. She is curled into herself, facing the wall. We both lean over her, Spencer near her face and me over her waist. Spencer brings his hand to her face and runs his fingers down her cheek.
“Pretty girl,” he whispers. He pushes her hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear.
Fallon remains unmoving, staring blankly at the wall in front of her with heavy lids. I lean further over her so I can peer into her eyes. She doesn’t move an inch at the feel of me touching her and chills crawl up my spine.
I rest my hand in front of her curled body on the bed to keep my balance and peer into her eyes. Eyes which are blue glass. Pain twists in my stomach when I notice she isn’t even blinking. I reach for her neck and press my fingers to her pulse.
My hands shake against her flesh but before I can use my other hand to steady them, Spencer reaches over and wraps his fingers around my wrist, steadying my arm. It stops shaking long enough for me to feel the sluggish thump of her pulse against my fingertips.
Tears prick my eyes as relief floods me.
She’s alive. Something is severely wrong with her, but she’s alive.
“What’s wrong with her?” Spencer asks me as I pull my hand away and bring it to Fallon’s cheek. I slowly turn her head away from the wall until her glassy eyes stare up at the ceiling. I look deeply into them, searching. Hoping Fallon is still in there.
