Chapter 114
There are in every generation
Those who shrink from the ultimate sacrifice,
But there are in every generation
Those who make it with joy and laughter
And these are the salt of the generations.
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—Patrick Pearse
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GITA
Gita crept down the hallway, checking every door to see if she could slip inside. The walls and floor appeared unnaturally flat and white, with no place to hide, not even a rock or shadow. A bolt of lightning hit the door jamb beside her head.
"Eek!"
Gita crouched down and pressed her hands against her ears.
Ahead of her, the lizards moved forward in a two-by-two formation, chasing after the Angelics who retreated behind the next twist in the hallway, and then fired. Gita pressed her back into a doorway. There was little cover, but thankfully the Ange
