Whisper (Whisper #1)(27)

“Stay in sight at all times,” Isaac adds.

“And the last one?” Ward prompts.

“If something happens and we get split up, head straight back to the tower and wait for someone to come get us,” Ethan dutifully answers.

I push aside the painful torrent of emotion and look down at the eldest boy with curiosity, wondering about his tower mention.

“Good,” Ward says, bringing us to a halt in front of yet another generic-looking door.

I feel a sense of anticipation at the idea of leaving the facility, not just because of what I’ll get to experience on the outside but also because, when they first brought me here, I was drugged to the point where all I can remember is the endless bland walls and then nothing until I woke up in my cell. That’s it. But now … well, now I’ll get to see beyond the walls.

One last time.

“Sorry about this, Chip.” Ward pulls a long piece of black material from his jeans pocket and turns toward me. “Director’s order.”

I don’t have the chance to process his words before he spins me so my back is facing him, lifts his hands — bringing my bound one with him — and rests the makeshift blindfold over my eyes, binding it behind my head. This move is executed so smoothly that I’m left stunned, wondering how I didn’t see it coming. Of course I’m not allowed to see how we’re going to leave the facility. I’m a security risk. I should have known. But that doesn’t mean I’m not still burning with resentment.

“Are we playing hide-and-seek, Landy?” Abby asks. “I thought we were going outside.”

“Not hide-and-seek, baby girl,” Ward answers, before blatantly lying. “But Chip is playing a different game. She thinks it’s lots of fun.”

“She doesn’t look very happy,” Abby observes. “We should get her an ice cream when we’re outside. Ice cream makes everything better.”

“That sounds like a good idea, gorgeous,” says Ward. “We can all get ice creams — how about that?”

I sigh, choosing to let my irritation go, since holding on to it will only ruin what I’m about to experience.

“Are we ready?” Ward asks, and the children all respond loudly in the affirmative. “Then let’s get out of here.”

A soft beeping is what I hear next, along with the whoosh of the door sliding open. I’m then shuffled blindly forward. But I’m pulled to a halt after just a few steps. I wonder why we’ve stopped, until the floor underneath me moves and I realize that we must be in an elevator. We travel upward at a rate fast enough that my stomach lurches and my ears pop from the pressure.

I try to count the seconds, but it’s difficult with the kids’ constant chatter. I think it takes almost a whole minute before the elevator comes to a stop and Ward and Abby pull me forward.

“I was wondering when you’d get here,” says a rumbling male voice. “The director said you’d put in a request for this afternoon, but it’s getting so late that I figured you’d changed your mind.”

I try to place the voice but have to settle on assuming the man is one of the many guards.

“Falon cleared Six-Eight-Four to go with you, too. That’s weird, right? I’m not sure what he’s thinking. Gotta say, though, she sure looks different in street clothes.”

The guard lets out a low whistle, and I stiffen at the implication.

“Another word and I’ll end your employment here at Lengard.” Ward’s threat comes out sharp and pointed, leaving a loaded silence — and no room for misunderstanding.

“I meant no disrespect, sir,” the other man says, his words careful now.

Sir? When I first met Falon, he said something about few people getting to spend one-on-one time with Ward. But for this guard to defer to him so readily … Just what kind of position does Ward hold here at Lengard? Why doesn’t he have to wear a regulation uniform? Why does he spend so many hours with me, just reading? Why did Falon tell me to make the most of this opportunity?

I still have so few answers, to my unending frustration.

“See that it doesn’t happen again,” Ward tells the guard firmly.

“Yes, sir. Of course.”

“Good,” Ward says, and he moves on. “We’re scheduled to be back by nineteen-hundred. I’ll check in if that plan changes.”

“But, uh, sir —”

“We won’t be requiring an escort today. The director should have made that clear.”

“Well, yes, but —”

“Then you have your orders. Now, let us pass.”

There’s a moment of silence — of hesitation? — before I hear a shuffling noise and the whoosh of another door sliding open.

“Thank you,” Ward says, his words still terse. “That’ll be all.”

“But —”

“You’re dismissed.”

“I don’t like that guy,” Ethan mutters as the footsteps move away.

“Me, neither,” Isaac quickly agrees.

I want to hug them both.

Abby, meanwhile, is too busy humming to herself to add her opinion, and I marvel at her little-girl ability to remain locked in a happy land despite whatever tension might be circling around her.

“This way,” Ward says, leading me forward again.