Stall 2 Novels & Stories

Never mind! ****** LMCD22

Every second mattered. The van fishtailed, and the rear tires screeched as Caleb fought to regain control. My pulse roared in my ears. I could see the twins huddled in Stella’s arms, their little faces buried against her chest, eyes wide with terror. Stella’s gaze met mine, a flash of recognition, trust, and fear all at once. I signaled her subtly, a tilt of my head, telling her to hold on, to stay calm, even as the van lurched dangerously near the edge.

When she saw my lack of a response, her gaze became sharp, as if it was staring straight into my soul. "You lied. You've been very strange lately." Just as I was about to explain my way out of it, she continued, "Stewart's finally back, so you can't win against him. Don't cause him any trouble, and know your place." After that, she stepped away from me and staggered into the bathroom.

A subroutine tagged the coincidence as *irritating. She began to juggle. *** **East spine – Kael** Kael reached the main junction to the facility’s spine. The server room door waited ahead, heavy and shielded. “Inner grid is lagging already,” the tech said. “Their system’s trying to reconcile live feed with what I’m feeding it and losing.” “Force it to keep juggling,” Kael said. Yana’s voice cut in. “Security office neutralized. Minor resistance. No sirens. Yet.”

A chorus of reluctant, muttered agreements rippled through the room. "Good. Sterling, you're in stall four. Right next to the Captain. Vance will get you up to speed on our playbooks." My stomach plummeted. Stall four. It was directly to my left. Carter was on my right. I was literally going to be sandwiched between them. Kael’s eyes lit up with a dark, sadistic glee. "Perfect," he murmured. He walked slowly across the rubber-matted floor, the sea of hostile players parting for him out of sheer instinct. He dropped his massive bag into the empty stall beside mine. He was so close I could feel the heat radiating off his body.

The stranger whispered one more word— one that tore the ground out from under her: “Phase Two.”

Nine-fifteen. Nine-twenty.

I go completely still. Not master

A man doesn't repeat himself unless he's waiting for you to open your mouth. "You're stalling," Maya said. Her own voice surprised her. Flat. Bored, almost. Six years of telling drunks the kitchen was closed. Something flickered behind the reading glasses. Just a flicker. But she'd waited on four hundred men like him, and she knew exactly what it looked like when somebody's script stopped working. "I'm negotiating," Crane said. "You're stalling. You've got eleven men and we've got thirty and you're still talking." She took a step. "Which means the ones you'd need aren't here yet."

Harmony I was trying to prevent myself from shaking while I was staring at my laptop. I don’t know what to feel about a post on Friendbook related to me. While I was trying to calm down, I continued to stare at a photo posted with a mocking caption. It was me, standing on a stage while in the midst of holding back my tears. The caption says, "Wow, look at your dumb rich girl stuttering through a debate. Is that all you can do? "