Dead Girl Running (The New Order Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

increased food and equipment allowances. Don’t miss out on this great opportunity. After the last Race for Citizen Glory, three of the top ten finishers were Chosen for Highest Level Citizen Employment.
    Although I’ve been running a few years now, I’ve never raced—except for secretly battling the people on either side of me in the long row of treadmills. In fact, I’ve never run anywhere except in this very room, because it’s not allowed. The streets are too dangerous.
    I glance at my watch again. It’s time to get started. Using the provided spray bottle and towel, I wipe down my machine then climb on and set my pace. Visions of runners racing through the city streets flash through my brain. My legs go faster and faster. The room disappears as I imagine I’m leading the race.
    “Hey. It’s busy in here today, isn’t it?” A deep voice on my right disrupts my dreams of glory.
    “What?” I hate when people try to talk to me at the gym. My mind wanders when I run, and I don’t like my fanciful imaginings to be interrupted. For a moment, it always makes me feel like someone else can see inside my head. I don’t like that. We’re watched enough as it is.
    I sigh and turn to the guy on the treadmill next to mine. He’s blond. Fit. And gorgeous, his chin held at a jaunty, confident angle. Like half the other jocks at the gym, he’s so full of himself that there’s no room for anything else. And, apparently, he won’t stop talking to me.
    “Everybody here thinks they’re going to win that race.” He smiles like he knows the overhead lights will glisten off his pearly whites. “But they’re wrong.
I am
.” Naturally, he’s sporting new shorts and an
In Training for Citizen Glory
T-shirt.
    “Oh, are you?” I ramp up my settings. “How can you be so sure?”
    “I’m the best.” He chuckles.
    I remember that his name is Liam. At least, that’s what the girls clamoring for his attention every night at the gym call him. I roll my eyes and catch him staring at my shorts. My cheeks flush and not just from my pace. “Were you checking out my butt?”
    “Of course I was.” He laughs, not even embarrassed.
    I cover my backside with my hands. “Well, stop it.”
    He shakes his head. “Most girls like that.”
    “I don’t.” My nostrils flare.
    “Don’t get so huffy. I’m not even hitting on you.”
    My cheeks burn even hotter. “I didn’t say you were.”
    “Okay then.” He turns back to his machine. “Cause you’d know if I were interested.”
    “Just so we’re clear: I’m only here to run.” I reset the treadmill controls. This conversation is over.
    He clears his throat. “I’m simply wondering why you aren’t training for the race.”
    I sigh. He’s taking over my hour of peace. “I never race.”
    “Why not? You’re the fastest girl here. I see you running all the time. Your legs fly. You could probably place. You might even get Chosen.”
    Chosen. The greatest honor bestowed on any member of the city. Mom would be so proud of me. So happy. And, finally, she’d be satisfied.
    I turn to glance at Liam, the golden boy. He’s conceited. He’s full of himself.
    And he’s right.
    “Maybe.” This could be exactly what I need. Or at least what Mom needs.
    Liam grins. “That’s the spirit!”
    “How about this? I
will
enter. And I’m going to beat
you
.” There. Take that.
    “I accept that challenge.” He reaches over and shakes my sweaty hand. “Hey, what’s your name?”
    “It’s Silvia.” His vigorous handshake catches me off balance, and I try not to fall off the treadmill.

    An hour later, I approach the front desk. Liam stands beside me, egging me on. My hand shakes as I scan my I.D. card, officially signing up for the Race for Citizen Glory. This could all be a big mistake. Heck, I’ve never even run on a road before.
    The athletic trainer behind the table hands me a cloth bag. “Here’s your race packet. The New Order congratulates you on making the