The Girl Who Ran
Running from the enemy…Dr Maria Martinez has finally escaped The Project facility that has been controlling her since birth. But in going against The Project’s rigid protocol, the powers at the very top of the organisation will go to any length to re-initiate her. Their aim? To bring her back to the tightly-regimented headquarters where their intense ‘training ‘of Maria can be completed.Fleeing to Switzerland in an attempt to outwit her enemy, Maria must never lose sight of potential danger, but soon finds there’s nowhere to run. And as she starts to question whether she can trust even those closest to her, returning to the one place she has fought so hard to leave might be her only option.An electrifying thriller, perfect for fans of Nicci French and Charles Cumming.
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âPowerful and gripping - an adrenaline-filled thriller you wonât forgetâ
Sunday Times bestseller Kimberley Chambers
âTaut and clever, with a fascinating, complex lead character in a terrifying situation.â
New York Times bestselling author Gilly MacMillan
âA gripping and tense thrillerâ
Heat Magazine
âA must haveâ
Sunday Express âSâ Magazine
âhigh-octane ⦠made me feel like I should be hyperventilating at timesâ
New Books Magazine
âAlways a step ahead of the readerâs expectationsâ
David Mark, bestselling author of The Dark Winter
âFast-paced thriller ⦠building with pace to a dramatic finale.â
Gloucestershire Gazette
âSeizes your attention from the very first page.â
Liz Robinson, LoveReading
âA great conspiracy thriller and a mind-bending tale!â
Booktime
âOne of the UKâs most exciting new thriller writersâ
Talk Radio Europe
âTruly excellent!â
My Weekly
Born in Dublin, Ireland, NIKKI OWEN is an award-winning writer and columnist. Previously, Nikki worked in advertising as a copywriter, and was a teaching fellow at the University of Bristol, UK, before turning to writing full time. As part of her degree, she studied at the acclaimed University of Salamanca â the same city where her protagonist, Dr Maria Martinez, hails from.
Nikkiâs novels are published in many languages around the world, and her debut novel was selected for TV Eire AM prestigious Book Club choice and Amazonâs âRising Star debut selectionâ, the AudioFile Earphone Award and was a finalist for the USA Independent Publishers Award. Her second book was awarded the Book Noir Book of the Year Award.
Nikki now lives in the Cotswolds with her husband and two children.
To Dave, Abi and Hattie â my beautiful little family.
Contents
Deep cover Project facility.
Present day
The room is strange and yet familiar. I know where I am yet it is all new, and when I arrive at a white door marked Project Callidus â Clearance Grade Two, I know that this, finally, is the right place.
I know I am truly home.
I enter. I return the black security card into a zipped pocket and proceed. Everything is neat and ordered. The walls are white and gleaming, and the door three metres and eleven centimetres ahead of me is brown, neat and straight, a gloss to its surface reflecting the strip of muted, butter-yellow lights above me. There is barely any sound. My black boots brush in clipped, precise patterns on the cream polished tiles and, as they do, I count my steps, pausing at the now familiar notice that sits encased on the wall, a note repeated at careful, measured intervals throughout the clean, frosted walkways of each Project facility in the world.
Order and routine are everything. The Project is our only friend.
I read the words on the wall and a feeling passes over me: I am one of them; finally the rightful place for me in the world is here. For is that not what we are all searching for? Acceptance? I reach the far wall, stop and turn right. In every way now I know where I am going, but there are moments when I wonder who I truly am, when I think itâs hard to find a place in the world when you donât know who you are supposed to be.
Striding seven more steps in the glow of the bulbs above, I reach a small grey monitor. Ahead, another subject number talks in hushed tones to a fellow colleague, and while we follow protocol and acknowledge the otherâs numerical existence, each one of us is careful to make no eye contact at all.
There is a quick crackle from the monitor. âState your name and subject number.â
I clear my throat. âDr Maria Martinez. Subject number 375.â
One second passes, two, until a mild buzzer sounds and, as per measured routine, I lean in to allow a soft pink light to scan my retina. The door ahead of me clicks, followed by a familiar whoosh of air and, striding seven more steps, I knock on another door. This one is thick, metal and heavy with silver casing and deep, solid locks with a sensory entrance system designed to withstand the harshest attack.
âEnter,â announces a familiar voice from inside.
In my nightmares and memories, the sound of him, of his accent, used to bother me. It would pull me into a downwards spin of fear, but now my mind has learned to find the Scottish lilt comforting, helpful to me and a welcome element in my daily routine. Placing my hand on the steel of the door and, the internal scanner tracing every groove of the unique lines on my skin, I walk in. There is a banging noise from somewhere, a mild moan, but my brain ignores it and my eyes remain facing forwards.
