Prodigy by Marie Lu

of the empty
     barrack rooms on the first floor, where I would pretend to be hiding before trying
     to sneak on board the RS
Dynasty.
When Republic soldiers knock down the door and come for me, I’m supposed to make
     a run for it. To give it all I’ve got.
    My steps quicken to match my guide’s. Now we reach the end of the walkway, where a
     secure door (five feet six wide, ten feet high) leads away from the main floor and
     into the hallways of the first floor barracks. The guide swipes a card across the
     door. It beeps, then blinks green and slides open.
    “Put up a fight when they come for you,” the Patriot tells me in a voice I can barely
     hear. His appearance is no different from any of the other soldiers here, with slicked-back
     hair and a black uniform. “Make sure they believe you don’t want to be caught. You
     were trying to turn yourself in near Denver. Okay?”
    I nod.
    His attention shifts away from me. He studies the hall, tilting his head up to inspect
     the ceiling. A row of security cams lines this corridor, eight in total, one facing
     the front of each barrack door. Before we step all the way into the hall, the guide
     pulls out a pocketknife and uses it to clip off one of the shiny buttons lining his
     jacket. Then he braces himself against the doorway, presses one foot against each
     side of the door frame, and leaps up.
    I glance back down the hall. There are no other soldiers here at the moment, but what
     if one suddenly turns the corner? It’s no surprise if they capture
me
here (that’s our goal, after all), but what about my guide?
    He reaches up toward the first security cam, then uses the knife to scrape away some
     of the rubber coating protecting the cam’s wires. When a bit of the rubber comes off
     and exposes the wires underneath, he wraps his fingers in the length of his sleeve
     and presses the metal button against the wires.
    A quiet burst of sparks. To my surprise, every security cam along the hall blinks
     off.
    “How’d you break all of them with just one—?” I start to whisper.
    The guide jumps back down to the ground and motions for me to hurry up. “I’m a Hacker,”
     he whispers back as we run. “I’ve worked the command centers here before. I rewired
     things a little to suit us.” He smiles proudly, showing even white teeth. “But this
     is nothing. Just wait till you hear about what we’ve done to Denver’s Capitol Tower.”
    Impressive. If Metias joined the Patriots, he’d be a Hacker too.
If he were alive.
    We sprint down the hall until he stops us at one of the doors. Barrack 4A. Here he
     pulls out a key card and swipes the door’s access panel. It clicks and swings open
     a little—inside, eight rows of bunks and lockers sit in the dark.
    The Hacker turns to face me. “Razor wants you waiting here to ensure that the right
     soldiers capture you. He has a specific patrol in mind.”
    Of course, makes perfect sense. It confirms that Razor doesn’t want me beaten to a
     pulp by letting just any Republic patrol arrest me. “Who—?” I start to ask.
    But he taps the edge of his military cap before I can finish. “We’ll all be watching
     your mission from the cams. Good luck,” he whispers. Then he’s gone, hurrying down
     the hall until he rounds a corner and I can’t see him anymore.
    I take a deep breath. I’m alone. Time to wait for soldiers to arrest me.
    I quickly step inside the room and shut the barrack door. It’s pitch-black in here—no
     windows, not even a slit of light from under the door. Certainly a believable enough
     place for me to be hiding. I don’t bother moving farther into the room; I already
     know what the layout is, rows of bunk beds and a communal bathroom. I just flatten
     myself against the wall right next to the door. Better to stay here.
    I reach out in the darkness and find the doorknob. Using my hands to measure, I gauge
     how far the knob is from the ground (three feet six). That’s probably how much