“Then from now on, we’re in this together.” Turon steps inside the lift and lets the doors close behind him.
“What are you—”
“In time, Ms. Bluehair.” He presses the button for the deepest level of the compound.
“But I thought we were, what about—”
“In time,” Turon repeats himself without raising his voice.
I clutch Zorrah and back into the far corner of the lift. Our descent slows before I can think of what to do next. Without knowing why, I know everything about my relationship with Instructor Turon has changed. His posture slackens. As if resigning himself to an undisclosed course of action, he slumps with his back against the wall. He props up his right foot, letting the sole grip the plasteel surface behind him. As a result, his knee juts into the cramped space.
It’s a sloppy display of unpreparedness—totally out of character. As if to punctuate my thoughts, Turon releases a low rumbling belch. “I’ve been feeling that since we first stepped on the lift.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I know, Ms. Bluehair. That is indeed the help I am trying to offer.” The lift stops. Turon straightens. “Ah, here we are. Finally, I consider it my duty to warn you: understanding begins with one simple truth.” The doors open. This time Turon does nothing to stop me from exiting the lift, thus raising my suspicion even further.
“And that truth is?”
He winks. “Sorry kid, that’s for you to discover.” With a sweeping arm, he gestures toward a darkened room beyond the open doors. “This is the time.”
“Right.” I creep forward while repeating two words to myself—for Zorah. Every hair on the back of my neck and arms raises as I scoot further into the room. For Zorrah. I’ve no idea what I expected beyond the door marked “No admittance.” Certainly none of what has happened so far.
Several strides into the darkness, I sense an obstacle impeding my progress. I squint in effort to maximize the dim light escaping the lift. The slightest outline of a rectangular shape forms. Then the doors to the lift slide shut, taking with them the only motes of light.
“Have you ever wondered what the immortals do with the long years of their lives, Ms. Bluehair?” Turon clucks his tongue. “Of course you have. I know, because I once wondered the same thing. This may surprise you, Calli, but it was not that long ago I dwelled in Worker City—less than a hundred years.”
Crouching in the pitch black and unsure of what danger awaits, I stretch my hearing in every direction. With little choice, I continue to listen to the instructor in hopes of gathering a clue as to his intentions.
“Earlier, when you questioned the fate of those who have opened the door—technically, I suppose my response was less than honest. I apologize for that. In fact I know a little something about two of the cadets who have dared be so bold. One of them, I assume you have deduced, is yourself. The other is me.”
A long silence fills the darkness. For several seconds, Turon makes no effort to continue his story or to move. The waiting isn’t getting me any closer to helping Zorrah, so I prompt him. “I’m listening.”
“Good. Anyway, for reasons quite different than your own, I crossed the threshold. Fast forward and here we are today.”
“For an instructor, you’re not a very good story teller.”
“Yes, well, I’m afraid everything in between is a rather long and tedious story not much good for the telling. But it’s what I’ve got to say next that you’ll want to hear.”
“As long as it leads to helping Zorrah, please, continue.”
“Wait, Zorrah’s still alive?” The tone in his voice shifts dramatically.
I tense as I hear him moving. The lights flick on.
I blink through the sudden glare and scan my surroundings for immediate threats. Nothing or no one is moving except Turon. He stops a full stride from me. As my vision clears, I realize his face is etched with concern.
“Good God, girl. Why didn’t you say so before?”
I clutch Zorrah protectively and growl, “I thought I made myself perfectly clear at the door.”
“You requested medical attention, I assumed for a tragically terminated cadet. You did not mention emergency resuscitation!”
“And why would you assume Zorrah was dead!?”
“My instructions dear girl. Because of my instructions.” He stops short and strokes his chin.
“Whoever instructed you to meet me at the door, that person thought Zorrah was dead?”
“It would seem so. Now no more stalling unless you wish termination to be Zorrah’s actual fate.” He sticks out his arms. “I’m afraid I must ask you to surrender her into my custody.”
I hesitate. There is no way for me to know if Turon is the mystery man, or if he is in cahoots with him, or if he really is a sympathetic underling following orders.
“Xoxochueyi!” Turon stamps his foot. “If you can save her on your own, by all means do so. If not, hand the dear girl over.”
Biting the inside of my mouth, I relinquish Zorrah in a single movement.
Cradling her, Turon moves swiftly across the room. “Nothing to fear. As fate would have it, we’ve come to exactly the right place.”
Following on his heels, I focus my attention on our surroundings for the first time. “The morgue!?” My misgivings get the better of me, and I clutch at Turon in an effort to retake Zorrah.
A gentle green pulse of EM energy deflects my scrambling efforts. “Calm yourself, Ms. Bluehair. The morgue was the floor above, where I had originally intended to stop. This,” he pauses, “this is the gateway to Nirvana.”
Thanks so much for taking the time to read this scene of Boundaries, Season 2 of The Green Ones. I’ll be publishing FREE daily scenes from The Green Ones until…I die…or something terrible happens. Seriously, I’ve got over 100 scenes written so far, and I’ll be writing more until the story reaches its natural ending. You are totally welcome to read the entire story for FREE! If at any point you decide you would rather finish the story in ebook or print format, just click the buttons below and you can do that as well. If you enjoy reading the serial releases, BUT you would also like to support me as a writer (my kids need wine!) please subscribe to my premium content for bonus scenes, exclusives, and insider access to my process. And of course, I’d be grateful if you would share this post with any of your reader friends who you think would enjoy The Green Ones. Happy reading!