by Rock, R. A.
“It probably is,” Chad admitted. “But we have no choice. We have to move ahead with the general plan. To try and keep our cover long enough that we can free the prisoners and get Grace out.”
“You’re not going to be able to do anything digging twelve hours a day, or whatever,” Yumi pointed out. “But at least you don’t have to do that for a week. We should be able to get some snooping done tomorrow.”
“What did you do today?” I said. There hadn’t been a moment till now to ask her.
“Oh God, you wouldn’t believe it. Bakersfield’s assistant was teaching me all of the little things he likes. How he takes his coffee. What time I have to have his lemon water on his nightstand in the morning. Which colours he prefers to wear on which day of the week. It was a nightmare,” she said, grimacing.
I laughed. That was her idea of the worst day ever.
“It was the worst day ever, Red. You know I don’t pay attention to shit like that. And how am I supposed to remember it all? What if he gives her a day off when we’re still here and I have to attend to him? I’m going to completely screw up.”
“Calm down,” I said. “You faced down five brutes in the arena just now without blinking an eye but the idea of having to wait on one spoiled brat for a day has you tied in knots?”
“Fighting is easy for me,” she said. “You know that. Social niceties, not so much.”
I kissed her forehead, which made her shiver I noticed.
“Don’t worry. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out together.”
She nodded, her face serious.
“Now, as soon as I let Shiv and Audrey know what happened, I think we better go to dinner,” she said, a sour look on her face at the thought. “And God knows what will happen there.”
I felt a twinge of worry but put on what I hoped was a comforting smile for her.
“It’s just a dinner, Yumi. How bad could it be?”
I LEANED FORWARD in Nathan Bakersfield’s private dining room and blew on the spoon of cream of mushroom soup until I was sure I could put it in my mouth without slurping — they kept cows on a nearby farm, he had told us, so they had dairy products like cream. Then I set my spoon down noiselessly beside my plate and picked up the pristine white napkin on my lap to dab at my mouth.
I glanced down at the round table which was set impeccably with a white table cloth, sparkling crystal, and silverware that looked like it had been polished. Chad, Nathan, and I — he had asked us to call him Nathan and he had been using our first names, too — were in his private room where he sometimes took his meals when he didn’t want to be in the great hall.
The food was delicious and yet I wasn’t sure I could eat anymore. It was evening and I was starving because we hadn’t eaten since lunch but my stomach was tied in knots and I was desperately afraid of doing something wrong and getting myself dirty or mussed.
Nathan’s assistant had shown up to help me get ready as soon as we had returned from the hot springs. She had chosen a tight, red dress that went to the knee with spaghetti straps that constantly felt as though they were going to fall off my shoulders. She had put my hair up in a bun with some tendrils of hair framing my face. And then she had put make-up on me, painting my lips the same crimson red as the dress.
I couldn’t wait to scrub it off.
But I hadn’t made any fuss and I had to admit that the effect was quite nice. Chad had been stunned speechless when he had seen me, so that had been satisfying.
Maybe I should dress up more often.
Yeah, maybe not.
I did think that Chad should dress up more often. He really cleaned up well. I studied him, while trying to look like I was paying attention to their inane conversation. He was wearing a black suit, paired with a crisp white button down. The tie they had given him was a bright blue that matched his eyes. And the light from the chandelier above us glinted off those corkscrew curls I loved so much. The black eye he was sporting somehow made him look hotter. Only Chad could have a black eye that actually complimented his appearance.
There was a mental snort from him at that thought. Which reminded me to make sure that, other than my connection to him, my mind was completely shielded. Shifting slightly, I tried not to fidget, knowing that too much movement would mess up my outfit and make-up and all the other nonsense I was wearing.
All this fanciness made me incredibly nervous. I could hardly stay calm enough to look normal. Thank goodness I was a woman and not expected to really participate in the conversations of the menfolk.
There was another mental chuckle.
I picked up my spoon again and ate some more of my soup so that Nathan wouldn’t think I was too nervous to eat — though I was. What made it all worse was that he hadn’t mentioned the training demonstration or Grace or the prisoners from Sipwesk at all. I thought he had brought us here to threaten us or tell us exactly how he was going screw up our plans. Instead, he was chatting about the castle and the weather for god’s sake.
Chad and Nathan were discussing something about… architecture maybe? I had no idea. I was so anxious about all the forks beside my plate that I could hardly concentrate. Besides, there was an air of menace in the room that Nathan couldn’t quite dissipate with his light chatting.
I picked up my spoon again, wishing I could slam it on the table, stand up, and demand that Nathan just tell us what the hell he was going to do.
“Don’t do that,” Chad sent, with a frowny feeling as he and Nathan broke into laughter about something he had said.
As if I would do that.
A mental snort emanated from Chad’s direction.
Okay… I might do that.
But I wasn’t going to do that.
Chad had just told a story about when he was a child and Nathan took the opportunity to ask about what he no doubt actually wanted to talk to us about.”
“Your sister, Grace. What is she like?”
I sensed Chad’s tension though he only smiled and set down his fork.
“She’s beautiful, smart, and likes a man to tell her what to do,” he said, naming the three attributes that would make her a perfect Survivor wife. I knew Chad was playing the part of someone wanting to join their community and so he was spouting the same beliefs about a woman’s place as Nathan held. But it still annoyed me.
I thought about how Shiv would laugh to hear Grace described that way. Well, not the first two, but the last one. She liked to be told what to do about as much as I did.
“She’s married?” Nathan said, too casual.
I could feel Chad debating what to tell him.
“Yes, she’s in a committed relationship.”
“Has she been married to this man by someone qualified to perform a marriage?” he said, his blue eyes too intense, too demanding.
Oh no. He wanted Grace.
“No,” Chad said, his jaw tense.
It appeared the niceties were over.
But then Nathan leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his wine. He looked well pleased with himself and began to tell us about the improvements he still had planned for the castle.
Okay, I guess the niceties were still going on.
I couldn’t concentrate on what he was saying.
God damn it, he wanted Grace for his partner. To begin with Nathan had probably captured her for New Winnipeg and brought her here to be held till she could be moved back to the secret city, as we had assumed. But then he must have seen how beautiful she was, taken a liking to her, and decided he was going to have her.
He must be working with Natasha because that was the only way he could have known to use adamantium. She was the only person in this time that had the alloy and knew how to use it on people with mental powers.
I wondered why Nathan was working with Natasha.
No matter the reason, it sure seemed like an unholy union.
“Chad, I think we need to call his bluff,” I sent. “We’re not going to get anywhere, sitting and talking about architec
ture.”
“Engineering, not architecture.”
“Whatever.”
I waited and finally felt his consent.
“But don’t make a scene,” he added at the last minute. “And don’t punch him. I’m sure he values his pretty face.”
“Fine.”
“Nathan,” I said, interrupting whatever he was saying about the repairs he was making to the stairs that led to the bottom of the dam.
Nathan glanced at me with a tiny crease between his eyebrows at my forceful tone. He looked me over and I knew that even though I was wearing fancy clothes that made me look like a lady, he knew that I wasn’t one and would never be one. His disdain for me was coming off of him like the reek of a rotting fish.
“You may not be a lady but I like you just the way you are,” Chad sent and I almost smiled, then remembered in time that I was playing the heavy right now. I scowled at Nathan.
“It has come to our attention that you are keeping prisoners in this community, possibly with the intent of making them slaves. This is in direct violation of the Survivor principals, as were told to us by an old friend of yours in another Survivor community.”
“Kyle?” Nathan said, raising one thin eyebrow.
I nodded.
“Yes, well, a man arrived with a lot of people and offered to add them to our working class. They would not be slaves,” he said the word as if it was dirty. “We are always looking for more residents, as you can see by us accepting your petition, and so I said yes. There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?”
“There is if they don’t want to stay here,” I said, resisting the urge to stand up and put my hands on the table. Chad watched our conversation closely, not saying anything but ready to jump in, if I got in hot water.
“Who would rather live out there?” Nathan said, his face the picture of disbelief. He gestured to the window. “There’s just savages out there.”
“Some people have been rebuilding their lives,” I said, managing with effort to keep a civil tone. “I’m sure those prisoners just want to go home.”
“The man who brought them said that they had lost everything in a fire. They are not prisoners. They are refugees.”
I wanted to say a lot of things but most of them were completely unacceptable so I bit my tongue. Chad stepped in smoothly taking over the conversation.
“What are your plans for these refugees,” he said. “What accommodations have you arranged for them?”
“Well,” Nathan did look uncomfortable as he told us, “They are being housed in the prison cells right now. But the doors aren’t locked and the rooms are clean. It is the only place we have for them at the moment.”
I studied his face and was amazed at the innocent expression I saw there, which was completely at odds with the dark scent of deceit I sensed from him.
Nathan was lying through his teeth.
I THOUGHT WE were doing pretty well at the late supper with Nathan in his private dining room. Until Yumi’s next words were out of her mouth, that is.
“I would like to see the prisoners… I mean, refugees,” Yumi said, sitting back and meeting Nathan’s surprised gaze with a steady look of her own. I could see that she was trying to maintain her cover, but bits of her usual assertive I don’t take shit from anyone personality were showing through.
Fuck.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got this,” she sent in response to my mental cursing.
“That’s what I’m worried about.”
“You want to see the refugees?” He appeared bewildered but I could sense his emotions and that was the last thing he was feeling.
God, this guy was the master of deceit.
And I wondered what had made him this way at such a young age. His story must be an interesting one. Or a sad one to have messed him up so badly.
“To make sure that they’re being well-treated,” Yumi said, the picture of concern for the welfare of the unfortunate refugees.
“Don’t you trust my word?” he said, and the smile he gave her made my skin crawl.
“Of course,” she said smoothly. “But now that I’ve had some experience with your guards, I’m a little concerned with how they might be taking care of them.”
He couldn’t really argue with that.
“Nice,” I sent with an image of a high five. “You’re getting good at this.”
Yumi’s lips twitched but she kept her eyes on Nathan.
“Okay,” he said, with a careless shrug. “Sure. Let’s go now. Are you finished eating?”
“All done,” Yumi said, giving him a broad smile. She stood up and I got another look at her. I caught my breath. She was dazzling tonight. I mean, I always think she looks good. But that red dress and those red lips. Damn. Her hair was done up and it made her look so different. I couldn’t wait to get her back to our room.
Then Nathan stepped forward and put his hand on the small of Yumi’s back, escorting her out of the room as if I wasn’t even there.
Really? I was going to seriously punch that little asshat.
“Just go with it, Red. You know I only have eyes for you. Didn’t you say this kid wanted his ass kissed?”
She had a point. So, I followed the two of them down the hallway, simmering with anger.
NATHAN LED us to a set of metal stairs that were so steep and seemingly endless that I was actually a little hesitant about stepping on to them. If you lost your footing and fell, there would be a long time of rolling before you eventually hit something that would probably break most of the bones in your body at the same time as it stopped your descent.
But he and Yumi went down the stairs, chatting about something I couldn’t quite hear, so I followed them down. Finally, we arrived at the bottom of the dam and I stepped off those stairs with relief. There was a guard sitting and looking bored at the entrance to the hallway.
I saw that Nathan was using converted maintenance rooms as cells. For almost all the doors in this hallway, the sills were up a foot and you had to step up into the rooms. I assumed that was in case the place flooded? Why would they have designed them that way otherwise?
But at the end of the corridor, I saw something that made my guts twist. A door that had some steps going down to it.
The water chamber.
I swallowed hard.
I shook my head. I needed to remember that Nathan was a sadistic bastard, not some innocent kid, not some debonair socialite that had fancy dinners and chatted about engineering — no matter how he looked. The water chamber was fucking proof of that.
He and Yumi were nearing a door and I jogged to catch up.
“See?” he said, with a graceful gesture of his hand. “Not locked.”
And I wondered how he had got someone to come down and unlock it before we got here. I remembered a whispered word to Hawkings as he and Yumi left the room and assumed that there had been some serious running for someone to get down here before us and get the guard to unlock it and then get seated back at his post, looking bored.
Nathan opened the door wide and Yumi stepped in, I heard her mental warning to Ernest and the head shake she gave to Matt, Nessa, Cynthia and the other adults in the room that knew her. Ernest grabbed Penny and whispered something into her ear.
“Well, Mrs. Dvorski,” Nathan said as the three of us made it through the doorway and into the cell, which was fairly big and had bedrolls on the floor. “Is this enough proof for you? They are clean, well-cared for, fed, and doing just fine until we find them a place at Castle Bakersfield.”
They were pretty crowded, but they did otherwise look fine.
Till I spotted Ernest. I frowned at him but he gave a tiny head shake.
“I’d like to look around and speak with the refugees,” Yumi said, stepping forward in her fancy dress and high heels.
“By all means,” Nathan said, with a flourish of his well-manicured hands.
She might feel horribly anxious about dressing up but she came across as completely confident,
as usual — just as she had in the arena when she had fought all those guards. And she was so lovely, I could hardly keep my eyes off her. If I was an artist, I would have painted this scene as Prime Minister Visiting Refugees. Especially right now as she leaned a little towards one of women and smiled as she spoke softly to her.
Nathan watched her closely as Yumi continued to pretend to inspect the room and chat with each person, meanwhile she had seen Ernest too and the mental conversation between them flew back and forth. Matt, Nessa, and Cynthia all seemed beyond shocked, though they were hiding it pretty well. I didn’t know if it was seeing us here or seeing Yumi like… that, that was shocking them, though.
“Ernest, are you okay?” she sent, relaying everything back to me, since we had not freed Ernest’s brick, so I couldn’t hear his responses.
“I’m fine,” he sent.
His face was purple and blue and one eye was swollen shut. He had a fat lip and when he had stood up, he had winced as though he was in pain.
“You don’t look fine,” Yumi sent back. “What happened?”
Ernest’s gaze hardened, then he looked away.
“The guard likes to take out his anger on us. Better me and a couple of the other guys, than the women and children. I was the first. And after everyone was appalled at how bad I looked, he was careful to hurt the other guys where it didn’t show, the bastard.”
Shit.
“Is anyone else hurt?” she sent.
“We’re all fine,” he sent. “It’s true, they haven’t been mistreating us. Except for beating me and a couple other guys up, they’ve been taking pretty good care of us. We haven’t had food this good in a long time. I think this guard just gets his kicks from hurting people. I’m pretty sure he’s not supposed to be bothering us.”
“Where’s Zoe?”
Ernest pointed with his lips to the corner, a gesture that I remembered was used by First Nations people because pointing with your fingers at someone was considered rude.
“I’m a little worried about her. They had her doing some heavy lifting today and the guard pushed her hard when he brought her back. She fell down. And, well, she’s pretty sure she’s in labour.”
