It was weird – but my footsteps seemed to have more purpose when they fell alongside Jace's.

There was something about his presence, steady and unwavering, that came as a comfort in a situation so uncertain. Things didn't feel quite so hopeless when he was here. But maybe it wasn't personal. Maybe, when the mountain we had to climb towered so intimidatingly before us, I was willing to cling onto anything without a lot of thought.

At the very least, he knew his way around campus better than I did, though there wasn't time to wonder why. We doubled back on his route down the corridor, heading in the direction of the stage rather than the lobby. According to Jace, there was a back exit there we could slip out of, and it'd be much easier to go unnoticed.

Just an assumption, of course. Guarantees were a luxury we'd long been unable to afford.

The temperature outside seemed to have plummeted, though logically it couldn't have changed much since the journey here. I shivered as the air hit the bare skin on my legs and arms. Why had I thought it a good idea to wear a dress? It had been part of the disguise, something I'd never normally wear – but in the icy grip of winter I couldn't help regretting it.

"You okay?" My expression had obviously given something away, because Jace noticed in his momentary glance back.

"Yeah," I said, the word emerging as a white cloud before my face. "I'm fine. Just cold."

For a second, he looked like he might've been about to say something else, but decided against it at the last minute. Instead, he made sure the door clicked quietly into place behind us, and turned to face the darkened campus.

The University of New London had always had a strange atmosphere about it: a sense of calm and order that infiltrated every space. It was unlike any other university in the city, and certainly Old Stratford. The halls of my new college were bustling from nine to five, never taking a breather. Students late for class would push past anyone in their way, teachers found time to mark between constant flows of visitors to their offices, the canteen queue remained a consistent winding length. Its order was maintained by only basic rules, and the remaining space left room to breathe. Part of the attraction of UNL was its promise of zero distraction, no single unnecessary obstacle in the path to success, a campus filled with like-minded individuals. It was no wonder the stakes were so high back at the academy.

Despite the slightly eerie atmosphere during the day, it was nothing compared to what Jace and I were faced with. The darkened grounds were totally silent, save for the faint whistling of wind and our footsteps on concrete. Most of the buildings were dark, too, but not empty: in each one there were a couple of windows that remained illuminated, a strange spot of brightness amongst the black. There was no telling what went on inside, but even so, I got the strange sense I didn't want to know.

The silence made it feel wrong to speak out loud, but we couldn't put it off forever. I glanced over at Jace. "Do you know where we need to go?"

He nodded. "The Smith-Glover building. Biological technology."

I had to be grateful he could lead the way. There was no way I could've picked out which towering building we needed to be heading for without a campus map – though I couldn't have read one in such darkness anyway. Navigation here needed something better. So I tailed Jace closely as he set off from the lecture building, eyes cast straight ahead, unwilling to stray.

Never before had I paid much attention to the Smith-Glover building. It had always been about where they taught Modern Humanity – both because it was the location of Mum's office, and also because I couldn't imagine studying anything else. Of course, there had been kids at the academy streamlined for biology. They were on a one-track programme, destined to be the BioPlus scientists of the future, and make a lot of money in the process. I'd never taken much notice before; it wasn't for me. Now I was forced to.

The place was an architectural centrepiece: a striking glass building sat in the middle of campus, all others angled towards it like north on a compass. At least fifteen floors, it was the tallest of the lot, but that wasn't the only thing that made it stand out. Where every other building had sat darkened, Smith-Glover sat completely illuminated, each pane of glass shining like a beacon in the night sky. Signs of life appeared here like they did nowhere else.

The light didn't seem to faze Jace. But it certainly did me.

"Wait," I said, and it was this word that brought his footsteps to a halt. "Are you sure? It looks like it's still open. There could be tons of people inside."

"It's not," he said, with assurance I needed to hear. "I've heard from my dad they light this place up all the time. It's supposed to give that impression... and it's supposed to turn people away."

In any other situation, the word people might've sounded general, but there was a clear insinuation on the two syllables that seemed to land right over our heads. "People like us," I said quietly.

"Yeah." He nodded. "Exactly."

The purpose in his every step was remarkable. I could barely bring myself to take my own, each one coming with a new set of doubts and a mind-changing routine. The potential consequences of what we were about to do were unthinkable. If things went wrong, it could be the end of our lives as we knew them – for both me and Jace. We could be thrown in prison, chained up – perhaps even publicly executed if Max Snowdon was feeling adventurous. And yet, despite all this, the consequences of sitting back and doing nothing were even worse.

Jace, at least, kept me moving. I knew his confidence was tactical; there was no way he could be feeling so calm when I felt ready to collapse into a pile on the floor. And he was probably onto something. If there was anybody lurking, we'd draw more attention to ourselves by crouching down and ducking around corners – not to mention the fact that our biggest defence was Jace's authority.

Walking through the revolving doors of the main entrance felt a little too blasé, however. There'd likely be security on reception, and it was better to avoid that wherever possible. Instead, we scanned the edge of the building in search of a less conspicuous way in, hitting the jackpot several minutes later when we stumbled on a back-door fire exit. The door was old-fashioned, safety features lacking any kind of automated system, so with a bit of tactical manoeuvring we were able to wedge it open. For the first second, we held our breath, waiting for an alarm – but nothing came, and the wash of relief came over us.

We were in.

At first, it just felt good to get out of the cold night air, but once inside, our problems soon shifted. We'd emerged in some kind of exit stairwell – not unlike the one I'd raced down at BioPlus HQ all those weeks ago – surrounded by concrete on all sides. My gaze was drawn at once toward the board on the wall. Set on a white background, its print was some kind of list, and on further inspection I realised it was a directory of all the rooms in the building, ordered by floor number.

"Jace."

He came over at once, standing beside me and looking over the list in front of us. Fifteen floors, and each had so many labs, all listed by surnames that sounded vaguely familiar. O'Connor, Tindall, Mitchell Lab... where had I heard them before? And then I realised: perfect images of my biology textbook sprung to mind. They were all scientists, geneticists in particular, their work now immortalised in academic tributes. And one of these labs – if not more – held a dark secret.

"Do you know which one it is?"

It wasn't immediately obvious, because he took his time scanning the list, reading the names on each floor before moving up to the next. I guessed it was something his dad had mentioned, but Jace had been left to muddle together the details.

Several beats later, he placed a finger on the single name beneath the top floor. "Here. I know it."

"Darnell Facility," I read aloud. "How sure are you?"

"As sure as I'm going to get." The hand fell back to his side, but he remained looking at the board, like he was hoping some kind of secret message might reveal itself. "It makes sense. There's nothing else on that floor, and this is the kind of thing they'd want to keep separated. And, let's face it, it's just like my dad to buy out the top floor penthouse." His last sentence came with a humourless smile.

"Okay," I breathed, wondering what we were waiting for. Maybe for a sense of mental preparation that'd never truly come. "Can we get up there from here?"

There was a notice stuck next to Darnell – a square of white that didn't quite match the background, like it had been added as an afterthought. I couldn't resist running my finger over it. The patch was raised, a sticker forming a side-note: Access via west entrance only.

I looked up. "Are we in the west wing?"

"Uh..." Jace glanced around the stairwell with me. "It must say somewhere."

There was nothing immediately obvious, so he headed for the stairs themselves, climbing the first few and leaning over the railing to look upward. I waited as he craned his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the walls above us.

"Wait," he said, "there's something written up there."

A couple of steps higher, and he leaned right over the railing, dangling his tall body so far over I was sure the momentum came close to tipping him over. Several seconds later and he seemed to notice something.

"You wanted west?"

"Yeah."

"Out of luck," he said, pulling himself back behind the railing. "We're in the east wing."

My first instinct was to swear loudly. Couldn't luck have led us to pick the right side of the building? Now we had an even longer journey to make, and that only increased the risk of getting caught.

"What if we went around the outside?" I suggested. "Head back out of the fire exit, and hope there's one on the other side? Then surely we'll be on the right side of the building."

For a moment, Jace looked like he was considering it, but my heart sunk when he shook his head. "It's too risky," he said. "There are probably more cameras on the outside of the building, and if campus security are monitoring anything, it's going to be them. We've probably already attracted attention once. It can't be a good idea to go in and out again."

"And it's not risky to snoop around inside this building?"

"Well, I'm not saying it's risk-free." Jace ran a hand through his hair, ruffling what had once been a neat and calculated style, impeccable for the stage. "I just think, in the grand scheme of things, it could be our best bet."

I studied him closely. "Are you sure?"

"I'm not sure of anything," he admitted, and I guessed if anything, I had to appreciate the honesty. "But if you trust my judgment... then I guess the rest is on my shoulders."

I wasn't sure what to do – to say – to think. But maybe that was just the nature of the situation. And if trusting Jace had brought me here, then perhaps I didn't have a reason to stop.

Heading for the door out of the stairwell felt like leaving a safe haven, though that was misguided in itself. We were no safer hiding in fire exits than anywhere else – not when the entire building was riddled with cameras. For the risks we were taking, maybe it was better to be bold, heading exactly where we needed to go.

We emerged in a long white corridor, one that reminded me a little too vividly of BioPlus HQ. Our shoes squeaked on gleaming floors, while bare walls just seemed to make the hall stretch for miles in either direction. And where were the windows? Had the architect missed them, or was the lack of natural light by eerie design? There was something headache-inducing about white glare from every direction, especially when I knew it was pitch black just the other side of the wall.

"Is it me," I whispered, "or is this place giving off a really creepy vibe?"

We both seemed to have naturally backed up toward the wall, like standing in the middle of the corridor was just a shade too risky. Jace's eyes had been darting around the place, but he glanced over at me then, letting our gazes lock. "No," he said. "Definitely not just you."

"Maybe it's just paranoia," I breathed, though I knew I was just trying to convince myself more than anything. "We should keep moving."

The place was, thankfully, well signposted. Outside the dingy light of the stairwell, this was pretty obviously the east wing, with the letter E appearing at random intervals on the wall. Towards the end of the nearest corridor, the pattern was interrupted by a small W and accompanying arrow.

"This way," I said, noting how strange it felt to take the lead. It was usually left to Jace, but right now we were as clueless as each other. Neither of us could imagine what we might find on the top floor.

We took the turn the arrow suggested, emerging in yet another empty corridor. The only difference was this one had more doors: all identical white shapes, labelled by numbers only, and certainly no windows in sight. There was no telling what – or who – lay behind them. The main thing that kept my footsteps coming was the appearance of more arrows on the wall, a confirmation, at least, that we were heading in the right direction.

Just as we came to the next corner, however, a noise stopped us in our tracks. A strange pressure landed on my stomach and I realised Jace had lashed an arm out, instinctively blocking me from moving any further. The contact felt strange, but it only lasted for a second – as if realising, he drew his hand back almost immediately.

"Wait."

We strained to listen. The noise wasn't loud – it sounded distant, like we were separated by at least a few thick walls. A high-pitched wailing that resembled some kind of alarm. Like somewhere in the building, something was going wrong.

"It doesn't sound close," Jace concluded. "Let's keep going."

But no sooner had we taken the plunge and rounded the corner, we came face-to-face with a sight that really did make my heart drop.

Some way down the corridor, one of the doors was open, and a woman in a white coat stepped over the threshold just as we emerged. Her gaze instantly caught on the movement from our direction, and even from some metres away, I knew it was all over.

"Hello," she said, in a strange tone, "can I help you?"

For the first few seconds, we didn't say anything – neither of us could scramble the words together. But when she closed the door firmly behind her, and started heading in our direction, I knew we were going to have to think of something fast.

"Excuse me," she called. "What are you doing here?"

I noticed Jace straighten up beside me, like the extra couple of inches would make all the difference. She'd got close now, and I could get a proper look at her features: pale face, pinched cheeks, white-blonde hair scraped back into a tight bun. There was almost nothing to set her apart from the bright white backdrop. A lanyard dangled from her neck, but it swung with each movement, not staying still long enough for me to read the ID card on the end.

"Well?"

"We're here to see someone," Jace said coolly, showing none of the nerves I knew he felt.

"Who's someone?" she persisted. "It's late, there's hardly anyone left in the building. And where's your identification?"

I expected Jace to recoil, but what actually happened was quite the opposite. "I'm sorry, but I don't think you realise who I am," he said, in the type of authoritative tone I'd only heard behind a BioNeutral podium. "If you had any common sense, you certainly wouldn't be asking me for identification."

The woman drew back a little, surprised, but it wasn't quite enough to send her running. "And who's that?"

I could tell there was a flicker of recognition; it was obvious in the way her eyes kept darting over Jace's face, his dark-framed glasses, his pressed suit. And with recognition came the first hints of panic.

He looked at her like she was completely stupid. "The name Jace Snowdon doesn't ring any bells for you?"

"I don't—"

"Here." When I looked over, he was slipping a hand into his trouser pocket, pulling out the ID he'd showed me just a short while ago. He held it out to the woman, though without letting it exchange hands. "I'm sure you're more than familiar with my father. A man who's donated a lot of money to this facility – perhaps has even paid your salary. I think it'd be in your best interests to be familiar with that."

She scanned the card, eyes glancing once back toward Jace's face, as if confirming the family resemblance. "I didn't know—"

"You didn't know what?" Jace narrowed his eyes. "You're not familiar with the BioNeutral cause? Not familiar with the work they're doing to protect your own society? Seems pretty irresponsible, if you ask me."

"Of course I'm familiar," the woman stammered, in a clear effort to redeem herself. "How could anyone not be? It just took a while to recognise you, Mr Snowdon... most people around here wear their ID on display."

Jace looked down at her and sneered. "Well, perhaps I don't want to advertise it."

"Of course," she said. "I understand. But your colleague—"

"Is with me," he finished for her. "And I wish to keep private matters private. The way they should be, don't you think?"

She looked taken aback, unnerved by the sudden shift of power. It had only taken seconds for Jace to take control of the conversation, and she was now being carried along with it. The look on her face told me she regretted questioning us in the first place. "I agree, Mr Snowdon," she said, much more quietly. "I don't wish to cause disruption to the cause. Our future depends on it – on you."

"Well, isn't that more like it." Jace folded his arms. "I trust this interrogation is over, and you're not going to delay us any further?"

She was quick to answer. "Of course not. Go ahead."

"And I can be confident in the fact that this exchange will remain as... private as it needs to be?"

The request was carefully worded, manners masking a clear meaning: you better not rat us out. And it seemed to do the trick, because the woman nodded, adjusting her white coat. "As you wish, Mr Snowdon. Nothing will be said."

Jace didn't even bother with a goodbye; instead, he cast a purposeful glance in my direction, and we swept back down the corridor. Under the watchful gaze of the woman, our footsteps became much more pronounced, echoing loudly like we had nothing to hide.

But once we got far enough, and she'd disappeared from view, it didn't take long for us to retreat back to the wall.

"That was way too close," I said, releasing the long breath I'd kept trapped inside me. "For a second there, I thought we were done for."

"I did too." Jace slouched back against the wall, running a shaky hand through his hair. "I panicked, and I didn't know what else to do. Thank God she seemed to listen to authority."

"Well, who could question you?" I breathed. "Your face has been on every screen in the city for weeks. BioNeutral makes it sound like they're saving the world. If we listened to the media, we'd think we were all in your eternal debt."

He didn't say anything, instead closing his eyes and letting the crown of his head fall back against the wall, clearly submerged in thought. If only I could work out which one.

Then, as quickly as he'd snapped into it, he was looking at me once more. "We're in west wing now, right?"

My eyes scanned the wall, landing after several seconds on a painted black W. "Yeah," I said. "Looks like it."

"Then let's head up." He looked around, gaze catching at the end of the corridor, where two lifts sat side-by-side. With one gesture, he was moving toward them, me in tow. A single moment had me considering whether it was a safe option, but it'd take less time than the stairs, and that had to be less opportunity to get caught. We reached the lift and Jace reached for the button, pressing the up arrow over and over like this would hurry things up.

Seconds later, the doors slid open, revealing an empty mirror-walled space. We both hurried inside, and Jace wasted no time pressing the button to shut us in, despite the corridor being empty as far as we could see. Buttons labelled with floor numbers stretched up in front of us, and his finger hovered in mid-air for a second before he got the courage to choose the uppermost one.

The lift played no background music: it was completely silent. In an effort to calm my pounding heart, I stared straight ahead, but in a lift full of mirrors it was impossible not to find myself staring back at Jace and I. Separated by a foot of space, we both stood straight, faces devoid of any visible emotion. It was easier to pretend that way. Pretend that we weren't scared out of our wits, pretend that our plan was going to work, pretend that there were no horrors to be found behind the doors of the Darnell Facility. And yet, despite our best efforts, refusing to show any hint of gripping fear on our faces did not stop it from swelling all around us.

A minute later, the lift dinged, and the number displayed in lights above the door told us we'd reached the fifteenth floor. A robotic, automated voice confirmed it. There was half a second's pause before the doors slid open.

Before I could bring myself to move, I noticed Jace's reflection looking at me. "You ready?"

I moved to take the first step over the threshold, Jace following my lead, and turned to look at him properly. "No," I said, "not at all. But there's five hundred kids out there who don't have a choice – and so neither do I."

----------------------

Hi, everyone! Bet you didn't expect me to come back with a chapter so fast, did you? I can't believe how close I am to finishing book 1. Only 1/2 chapters left (as you've probably guessed, there might not be much resolution... sorry! That's what happens in a trilogy!)

Shit is about to go down, so get ready.

Also I'm obsessed with GIFs of the cast and found these saved on my laptop and Twitter is definitely getting fed up so I'm going to post them here... #jastrid

Until next time!

- Leigh