Chapter 38

Lars leaned closer, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Wow, Jorgen," he said, his voice filled with admiration. "You're really in the inner circle now, huh? Getting all the important assignments."

Anya forced another smile, relieved that she had managed to deflect his suspicion. "Yeah, well, you know," she said, trying to sound modest. "Just doing my part for the Overseer."

Lars clapped her on the shoulder, his face beaming with pride. "That's the spirit, Jorgen," he said. "Keep up the good work. And maybe one day, you'll be running this whole place."

Anya chuckled, her heart sinking. She had no desire to run the warehouse, or anything else for the Overseer. All she wanted was to get the supplies she needed and escape with her life.

"So," she said, trying to steer the conversation back to her original goal. "What are you working on today, Lars? Anything interesting?"

Lars shrugged, his face falling. "Nah, just the usual grind," he said. "Moving crates of spare parts to the loading dock. Boring as hell."

Anya's ears perked up. "Spare parts?" she asked, trying to sound casual. "What kind of spare parts?"

Lars shrugged again. "I don't know," he said. "Just the usual stuff. Gears, wires, pipes, that kind of thing. All for the Overseer's machines, I guess."

Anya's mind raced. Spare parts could be useful. They could be used to repair the Dome City's defenses, or to build new weapons. But she needed to know more.

"Where are the spare parts located?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant. "Which section of the warehouse?"

Lars pointed towards the far end of the warehouse, his face bored. "Section C-7," he said. "That's where they keep all the spare parts. But trust me, Jorgen, you don't want to go over there. It's a mess. And Foreman Krill is a real pain in the ass."

Anya nodded, filing away the information. Section C-7. That's where she needed to go.

"Well, thanks for the info, Lars," she said, forcing a smile. "I gotta get back to work. Overseer's orders, you know."

Lars chuckled. "Yeah, yeah, I understand," he said. "Don't want to keep the Overseer waiting. See you around, Jorgen."

Anya nodded and turned away, her heart pounding in her chest. She had the information she needed. Now all she had to do was find a way to get to Section C-7 without drawing attention to herself.

As she walked away, she could feel Lars' eyes on her back. She knew he was still suspicious. But she had managed to convince him, at least for now.

"Just keep moving, Anya," she told herself, her voice a silent mantra. "Don't look back. Don't draw attention to yourself. You can do this."

She took a deep breath and continued walking, her eyes scanning the warehouse, searching for a way to reach her destination.

Anya continued to walk, her eyes darting around, taking in every detail of the warehouse. She needed to find a way to reach Section C-7 without drawing attention to herself, but the warehouse was a labyrinth of crates, boxes, and machinery. Workers bustled about, their faces grim and determined, making it difficult to move without bumping into someone.

"Okay, Anya, think," she muttered to herself, her voice barely audible. "What's the best way to get there? Can I go straight through the middle, or do I need to go around the perimeter?"

She observed the flow of workers, noticing that most of them seemed to be moving in a specific direction, towards the loading docks at the far end of the warehouse. That meant that the center of the warehouse was relatively clear, which could be an advantage.

"But it also means that I'll be more visible," she thought. "If I go through the middle, I'll be exposed. Anyone could see me."

She glanced towards the perimeter of the warehouse, noticing that there were several narrow passageways between the rows of crates. Those passageways could provide cover, but they were also likely to be more crowded, making it difficult to move quickly.

"Which is the lesser of two evils?" she wondered. "Do I risk being seen in the open, or do I risk getting stuck in a crowded passageway?"

She decided to take a closer look at the passageways, to see if they were as crowded as she thought. She veered towards the edge of the warehouse, her eyes scanning the narrow openings between the rows of crates.

As she approached the first passageway, she could see that it was indeed quite crowded, with workers squeezing past each other, their faces grim and determined. But she also noticed that there were fewer enforcers patrolling the perimeter, which could be an advantage.

"If I stick to the shadows, I might be able to avoid them," she thought. "But it'll be slow going. And if I get stuck, I'll be a sitting duck."

She continued to walk along the perimeter, examining each passageway in turn. Some were more crowded than others, but all of them seemed to be filled with workers, their faces etched with exhaustion and despair.

As she reached the far end of the warehouse, she spotted a small, unattended forklift parked near a stack of crates. An idea sparked in her mind.

"What if I used the forklift?" she thought. "I could drive it straight to Section C-7, without having to worry about the crowds or the enforcers."

But she quickly dismissed the idea. She had no idea how to operate a forklift, and even if she did, it would be far too noisy, drawing attention to herself.

"Besides, where would I get the key?" she thought. "It's probably locked up tight."

She sighed, her shoulders slumping with frustration. She was running out of options. She needed to reach Section C-7, but every path seemed to be blocked.

As she stood there, contemplating her next move, she overheard a conversation between two workers nearby. They were standing near a stack of crates, their voices low and conspiratorial.

"Did you hear what happened in Section C-7 last night?" one of the workers said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Anya's ears perked up. Section C-7. That's where she needed to go. She moved closer, trying to listen without being noticed.

"No, what happened?" the other worker asked, his voice filled with curiosity.

"Apparently, there was a break-in," the first worker said. "Someone tried to steal some spare parts."

Anya's heart skipped a beat. A break-in? That could complicate things.

"Really? Who?" the second worker asked.

"No one knows," the first worker said. "They didn't catch anyone. But Foreman Krill is furious. He's doubled the security in Section C-7."

Anya's mind raced. Doubled security? That was not good.

"What kind of security?" the second worker asked.

"More enforcers, for one," the first worker said. "And they've installed new surveillance cameras. Apparently, they're state-of-the-art. Can see everything, even in the dark."

Anya's heart sank. Surveillance cameras? That made things even more difficult.

"Anything else?" the second worker asked.

"Yeah," the first worker said. "They've also installed a new alarm system. If anyone tries to enter Section C-7 without authorization, the alarm will go off, and the enforcers will be there in seconds."

Anya's mind reeled. An alarm system? This was becoming impossible.

"So, what's going to happen to the person who tried to break in?" the second worker asked.

"If they catch him, they'll probably execute him," the first worker said, his voice grim. "The Overseer doesn't tolerate theft. Especially not from Section C-7."

Anya shivered. The stakes were even higher than she had thought.

"Well, I guess that's a good deterrent," the second worker said. "Maybe now people will think twice before trying to steal from the Overseer."

"Maybe," the first worker said. "But I doubt it. People are desperate, you know? They'll do anything to survive."

Anya nodded, her heart filled with a mixture of fear and determination. She was desperate too. She would do anything to save the Dome City.

"Well, I gotta get back to work," the second worker said. "Foreman Grigorov will have my hide if I'm caught slacking off."

"Yeah, me too," the first worker said. "See you around."

The two workers walked away, leaving Anya standing alone near the stack of crates. She took a deep breath, trying to process everything she had just heard.

Section C-7 was heavily guarded, with more enforcers, new surveillance cameras, and a new alarm system. And if she was caught trying to break in, she would be executed.

"This is insane," she thought. "It's suicide. I can't do this."

But then she thought of the Dome City, of the people who were depending on her. She thought of Sparrow, of his sacrifice. She couldn't give up. She had to try.

"Okay, Anya, think," she muttered to herself, her voice barely audible. "There has to be a way. There has to be a weakness in their security. I just have to find it."

She closed her eyes, trying to clear her mind. She needed to focus. She needed to come up with a plan.

"The enforcers," she thought. "They're the biggest threat. I need to find a way to avoid them. Or distract them."

She thought of the surveillance cameras. "They're state-of-the-art," the worker had said. "Can see everything, even in the dark."

"But can they see through walls?" she wondered. "Can they see around corners? Probably not."

That gave her an idea. If she could stick to the shadows, if she could stay out of sight of the cameras, she might be able to reach Section C-7 without being detected.

"But what about the alarm system?" she thought. "How can I disable it? Or bypass it?"

She had no idea. She didn't even know what kind of alarm system it was.

"I need more information," she thought. "I need to find someone who knows more about Section C-7. Someone who can help me."

But who? Who could she trust?

She thought of Lars. He seemed like a decent guy. But could she trust him with her life? Could she trust him not to betray her to the Overseer?

She didn't know. But she didn't have many options.

"Okay, Anya," she said to herself, her voice filled with determination. "I'm going to find Lars. I'm going to ask him for help. It's a risk, but it's a risk I have to take."

She turned and started walking, her eyes scanning the warehouse, searching for Lars. The fate of the Dome City depended on it.

Anya began to retrace her steps, carefully scanning the faces of the workers as she passed. The warehouse seemed even more chaotic than before, the air thick with dust and the sounds of machinery. Each worker seemed lost in their own world, their faces etched with exhaustion and despair.

"Lars," she muttered under her breath, "where are you?"

She tried to remember where she had last seen him, near the loading docks at the far end of the warehouse. She quickened her pace, weaving through the crowds of workers, her eyes constantly searching.

As she approached the loading docks, she could see lines of workers loading crates onto transport vehicles, their movements mechanical and repetitive. She scanned their faces, but Lars was nowhere to be seen.

"Damn it," she thought, frustration building within her. "Where could he be?"

She decided to try asking around. She approached a worker who was taking a break, leaning against a stack of crates.

"Excuse me," she said, trying to sound casual. "Have you seen Lars around? He's a young guy, kind of friendly."

The worker looked at her suspiciously, his eyes narrowing. "Lars? I don't know any Lars," he said, his voice gruff.

Anya forced a smile. "Oh, well, maybe you know him by another name," she said. "He works around here, loading crates. He's got kind eyes and a friendly smile."

The worker shrugged. "I don't know," he repeated. "I don't pay attention to anyone around here. Just trying to get my work done and go home."

Anya sighed, her hope dwindling. "Okay, thanks anyway," she said, turning to leave.

"Hey," the worker called after her. "Maybe you should try asking Foreman Grigorov. He knows everyone who works here."

Anya froze, her heart skipping a beat. Foreman Grigorov? Asking him for help would be like walking into a lion's den.

"No, thanks," she said quickly. "I don't want to bother him."

She hurried away, her mind racing. She couldn't ask Foreman Grigorov for help. That would be suicide.

She continued to search for Lars, her anxiety growing with each passing minute. She needed to find him, and she needed to find him soon.