Later that night after Alec’s visit I have trouble falling asleep. The room is dark except for the light coming from the muted monitor on the far wall of the room, that has been continually streaming mine and the others sentencing all day. I wonder if the others have monitors in their room, and if they do, how they must feel to watch themselves being sentenced to death over and over again. I bury my face in the pillow. I doubt they like it any better than I do. I bet all of them blame me for the situation they're in now, how could they not.
A few minutes later, I sigh and sit up. I doubt I’ll be able to sleep until I know how the others feel. I look at the monitor on the screen, and watch what feels like the hundredth time, as the city leader
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So its seems that Mal is a Colombian spy.
I bite my tongue to keep the recognition from showing on my face.
“Well!” Peter snaps, “What about this one?”
I glare at him. “You’re wasting your time,” I say, “Do you really believe, that if I knew any of the people you showed me, I would actually tell you.”
Peter’s lips twist into a snarl, “Then it seems, I’ll have to be a little more persuasive.” He growls, pulling a stun stick from his belt, a blue light arcing across its tip.
I stare at him. I will not look away. If I look away, I prove to Peter that he intimidates me.
When Peter is three feet away from me, he lifts the stun stick over his head.
I clench my teeth, pressing my hands to my sides, as I bracing for the coming
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“What?” he demands, rushing hurrying back to the monitor. He slides his finger in a series of quick, movements across the screen, and a broadcast of where the the Bronze district borders Silver appears, followed by a voice.“Disturbance on the border of Bronze and Silver. All available units are ordered to offer their immediate assistants.” This isn’t a public feed I realize.
Peter runs a hand through his hair. “Dammit,” he growls turning to glare at me. “this is your doing. Yours and the other Rebels.”
I spread my mouth to say something, but before I can he crosses the room in three quick strides and wraps his hand tight around my throat, wedging his thumb underneath my chin, as he pins me against the wall.
I start to scream, but Peter tightens his grip on my neck, silencing me. Colored spots, of green and purple appear at the edge of my vision, as I thrash, wildly as I attempt to break free, but he’s too strong.
I struggle to breathe, and as the seconds pass my mind wanes toward unconsciousness.
He’s going to kill me, I realize and no amount of fighting on my part is going to stop