highest rank - #32 in Action
#28 in Futuristic
❝She was like a moth.
And the need for justice was the light burning deep within her.
But everyone knows what happens when a moth touches the light.
. . . they get burne...
I leaped from the blue crystal pool water, taking a large gasp of needed air.
It's been a full week with no word from Pierre. I wanted to be relieved, but of course the nagging fear creeped in. Was he just bluffing?
Water dripped from my body as I used the white tiled mini staircase out of the pool. I picked up my neatly folded black towel and patted myself dry. I've always loved coming to the pool room. The chill vibe that it radiated soothed my untamable thoughts.
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Especially with the anxiety of being a mole.
After clothing myself in my grey joggers and white tank, I grabbed my flip flops and left the room. Towel thrown over my shoulder.
An hour in the pool room only left an hour of my Active Time to complete. I was in the mood for a one on one, perhaps with Xander.
I jabbed my thumb on the elevator button and the doors slid open smoothly.
"Second floor."
The elevator proceeded. It still vexed me why I haven't heard anything from Pierre. What's he doing over there?
The doors opened and I slipped on my flip flops before I stepped out. When I walked into the Self Defense room, I frowned when I saw Jack standing in the middle of the room. His eyes were focused on the black clip board he held, a pen clenched between his teeth. He must've subbed for Xander's class this morning.
"Where's Xander?"
Jack took the pen from his mouth, "Oh hey Kimmy. He got called on a mission. I forgot where it is, but it's in another state so he left this morning."
I frowned.
"Man, he's right. Teaching these recruits are like high school freshman," Jack shook his head.
I laughed lightly and quickly left the room, speeding walking back to mine. I had to get in touch with Pierre or one of the rogues, now. I had the slightest idea that Pierre might be involved.
In my room, I rushed to my nightstand and opened the drawer. A maroon blank paged notebook was centered in it. I took it out and opened it to see a rectangle crisply cut into all the pages.
Enough for the burner to fit perfectly inside. Another source of communication from Pierre.
I dialed the memorized number and brung the phone to my ear. The teasing rings only ceased when the option for leaving a voicemail occurred.
"Darnit," I hissed as I slammed it onto my bed.
I opened my laptop and frantically typed up a message. Normally a reply would appear almost right away. But soon, I found myself staring at the screen with the green cursor blinking at me for several minutes.
