Three people jog down a deserted glass hallway. One, the girl, glances repeatedly behind her as the others converse in low tones.
“This is getting out of hand.”
“I know it. We need her.”
“We don’t know who she is.”
“But we’ll find out. We’re losing more than we’re recruiting. There are so few who don’t know yet, it won’t be that difficult to find her.”
“You’re tripping. There are thirty of us. That leaves 15 980 people in this town alone who haven’t the foggiest.”
“And there are at least ten times of them than there are of us. You’ve read the books, we know who we’re targeting. We’ll find her, and we’ll start looking tomorrow.”
Finally, the girl speaks, at a barely audible level: “Shit.”
All three slow to a stop. The eldest turns first. “Let’s do this.”
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