"I don't know where my family is," she finally said. That wasn't completely a lie. She knew Rafe should be in Montana, as he lived on the compound. And Alex had started Sundown, so she would have left Las Vegas as soon as possible to head there. But Max didn't have any confirmation that either of them was where they should be.
"Max, I believe that's a lie," Callahan said. He stood with his folder. He again nodded to one of the soldiers, who moved in front of Max. She looked up at him defiantly, waiting to see what would happen. His fist curled and struck Max on the cheek with no hesitation. She again was knocked off the flimsy chair, her cheek radiated pain throughout her face and head. She laid still for a moment as she decided if she was going to be ill. Behind her, the door opened, and the men filed out, taking the chairs with them.
She fell asleep laying against the back wall. Still having no idea what the time was, her body just told her it was time to shut down. It was difficult to sleep in any position for a length of time. The room was cold, so she didn't want to remove her sweater for a pillow. Curling an arm under her head worked for a bit, but her arm fell asleep, along with her hip that was pressed into the concrete. Her cheek was tender and she had to be careful if she laid on that side, not putting too much pressure on it and her arm.
When the door opened again, Max was groggy and startled awake. A tray was set inside, and the door was slapped shut again. She stayed where she was, waiting, not trusting anything that came from the soldiers. She counted in her head, and when she had counted to sixty enough times to probably be five minutes, she approached the tray. It held bread, cheese, jerky, and a cardboard carton of orange juice. She took it back to the far wall and ate quickly, her stomach reminding her how long it had been since she last ate.
After the food was gone, she studied the tray. It was plastic and they made sure to not include anything that could be used as a weapon. Of course, they weren't that stupid. She tossed the tray aside and leaned back against the wall. She tried to evaluate her internal clock to figure out how long she had been locked in the room. One meal, two bathroom breaks, and one visit from Callahan. She assumed it had only been about twelve hours.
She closed her eyes as she leaned her head back. Her cheek still smarted from the punch, but it was manageable now. Her mind wandered through the day since they arrived at the safe zone. The freeway had led them straight to the shelter, not giving them the option of entering the city without entering the shelter. Max wondered if the whole city was controlled by the military. How were they controlling the number of citizens that must have lived and worked there?
The most pressing issue for her was why Callahan was interested in her family. How had he known about her siblings, their names, and their relation to her? She had only given her first and last name at the registration, no additional information. Nonetheless, somehow Callahan was able to tie her to the Duncans of Montana without question. The violent reaction to her not giving information gave her the indication that whatever he wanted was important enough to him to violate all of her rights.
Rights, were there any of those left at this point? This all went down this path because she wouldn't just give up her daughter. But if Callahan had realized who she was before she was arrested, she had to assume he would have found any reason to arrest her. Her family being on the radar of the military had her concerned, wondering what her brother and sister had been doing since the plague started.
These deliberations were cut off when soldiers entered her room again. She stood up quickly, waiting to see what they would do. She was first led out of the room again to the bathroom. She quickly relieved herself and found a glass of water on the sink, so she dunked her finger in it and used it to clean her teeth hastily. Again, she was yanked from the bathroom and led back to the concrete cell. However, that time, the soldiers didn't shove her in and close the door, but followed her in.
Callahan leaned against the back wall of the cell, similar to the position Max had taken when they entered. She glanced around, wondering if they had a camera watching her at all times. When she was brought in, he pushed off the wall and gave her a sharp smile. It was like looking into the eyes of a snake, waiting for it to strike out as it approached you. His fatigues were ironed with crisp lines, clean and respectable. Looking at him you wouldn't believe there was a plague ravaging the country.
"Hello, Max."
She stood still and didn't answer. Her arms were still being held by the soldiers and a third man, Private Smith, stood off the side with his rifle. If the Major wasn't worried about her, why bring so many men? She just stared at him waiting for him to start his questions. She knew they were coming, he had the folder in his hands again.
"I thought maybe we could try talking again," he said.
"I've told you all I know," Max replied, trying to shrug her shoulders, but found that to be impossible with her arms trapped.
"And I don't believe you. I think we established that," he said testily. Max was actually pleased to see she could make his facade slip just a little.
"I don't know what you'd like me to say to that. You either believe me or get your info somewhere else."
"I think we can still get some needed information from you, Max, or I wouldn't be here," he said, as he motioned to the soldier standing off to the side. The man nodded and stepped up to Max. She just raised an eyebrow at him. Private Smith had a blooming bruise appearing on his cheek where Max had struck him. His eyes were on hers, full of dread, but still following orders. His fist flew and struck Max in the stomach, causing her to suck in air and cough. He threw three more punches into her belly before Callahan called to him to stop.
"This can all stop, Max. Just answer the questions. Where are Alexandria and Rafe?"
"Don't...know," Max replied, choking as she tried to get air into her lungs.
"Tsk, Tsk," Callahan said before he motioned to the men holding onto her arms. She was roughly shoved to her knees and then thrown to the ground. On her hands and knees, Private Smith stepped back to her and kicked her in the ribs. She fell to her side, curling into a ball to protect her head. The kicks continued from all three soldiers, striking her ribs, arms, and legs. Her body was protesting the pain that was being inflicted, and Max couldn't help stop herself from crying out.
That stopped the attack. Max laid on the ground, trying to breathe. Her ribs hurt badly, making her wonder if they didn't break something in their onslaught. The boots in the room shuffled around as the door was opened again, and chairs were brought in. Max was lifted roughly and shoved into the chair, where she sat slumped to her side, favoring the ribs that hurt the most.
"We don't like to hurt you, Max," Callahan said. He sat across from her, with a lack of any emotion on his face. He had the folder open again but was watching Max in her chair.
"Could have fooled me," Max shot back.
"Well, beating women isn't exactly a favorite pastime of mine. I doubt for these men either," Callahan motioned to the three men that stood in the cell with them. None of them made eye contact with Max when she looked around at them.
"No? Let me guess, torturing animals is more your thing?"
"Has anyone ever told you that your mouth is going to get you into trouble?"
"Every day," Max replied without hesitation.
"And you just can't seem to learn," Callahan said as he shook his head in mock disbelief.
"Guess I'm a slow student."
"Let's try this again. You are headed to Montana, this has been established. What do you know of the whereabouts of your siblings?"
"I don't know anything about where they are right now. Seems my cellphone stopped working, weird."
Sighing, Callahan motioned to one of the men to come over. Young Private Smith stood in front of her, fists balled at his side. Max didn't acknowledge him, just stared through him to the far wall. Instead of the punch, she was expecting, he slapped her with his open hand. When she brought her head back to face center, he struck her again, harder this time.
This blow caused her lip to split and blood to run down her chin. She looked back, and Private Smith stepped away again.
"Your father created the compound your brother lives on, you were raised on it. How are the defenses set up?" Callahan continued.
"Defenses? It's not a military base. It's a home," Max replied, wiping the blood from her face.
"A home with a large stone wall surrounding it, like a fortress," Callahan stated. His detailed knowledge of the compound made Max uncomfortable. How would he know about the fence unless someone had been there? And if they had been there, Alex and Rafe weren't, because he was still looking for them.
"What do you want with my family?" Max asked, turning the questions back to the Major.
"That's not your concern."
"The hell it isn't. That's my family and I'm not going to just answer your questions without knowing what you want with them."
"Then we are at another impasse," he said to Max. Then he turned to the soldiers and continued, "Move her to the new room."
Max wondered what this new room could be, as the soldiers advanced on her. Violence was just below the surface on Max. But the soldiers and the Major had guns. Even if she could take one or two down, that would leave time for the others to draw their weapons and shoot her. That outcome wouldn't get her to Jack faster. She didn't fight when the soldiers pinned her arms and lifted her from her seat. Her body wanted to protest, but Max forced one foot in front of the other.
Callahan followed as they walked down the hallway. The hall was full of doors, though Max never saw inside of any except her cell and the bathroom. Private Smith hurried ahead of them to a door near the bathroom. Unlocking it, he stood to the side to allow them to enter. Max was led into the room, which was more dimly lit than the one she had been in before. It was just as sparse, with no real furniture inside. There were boxes stacked against one wall and a chair against the opposite wall of the door.
What caught Max's attention immediately was the large hook hanging from the center of the ceiling. It looked like something a butcher would hang a slab of meat from. Handcuffs were produced from one of the soldiers and her hands were secured in front of her. Suddenly Max realized what was happening, and she tried to pull away. The soldier just yanked her to the center of the room as she tried to fight. She kicked out and landed a solid blow to the man's thigh. He yelped in pain and the other soldier hit the back of Max's head, almost knocking her to the ground.
Her head swam as she tried to gather her senses. Her arms were lifted above her head and one soldier lifted her by her waist, securing the handcuffs over the hook. Then Private Smith, who stood off to the side, watching with the light of fear in his eyes, used a remote to lower the hook until just Max's toes touched the ground. She scraped her feet along the concrete floor. Trying to find purchase, she wanted to take the tension off of her shoulders, but they didn't lower her any further.
Callahan had stood outside of the door watching the entire scene. Once Max was secured on the hook he walked into the room and grabbed the chair that sat in front of her now. He moved it until he was happy with the positioning, and sat with his folder.
"Now, let's try this again," he started, staring at the hanging Max.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
She had lost all idea of time. Hanging from the meat hook, Max tried to judge how long she had been in the room. Her position had been alternated three times so far, with the hanging times feeling like hours. She counted, and when that started to drive her crazy she tried to think of all the ways she would make Callahan pay for what he was doing to her. Those daydreams sometimes took her mind off of the painful ache that would build in her shoulders from hanging without feet to support her.
The door banged open, startling her. The same soldiers filed in ahead of Callahan. Max had begun to name the two she didn't know Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dumber. It made her feel better inside to laugh at them, even though they had no idea she was doing so. She, of course, had met Private Smith before, and the boy always seemed to be scared and unsure of what was happening. Besides the fear, he still followed the orders given by the Major. Military loyalty winning out over his human sensibilities.
"Good morning, Max," Callahan said, as he moved his chair to the front row seat to her interrogation today.
"Morning? Could have fooled me," Max replied, her voice a weak whisper.
The soldiers lifted her and disconnected her hands from the hook above her head. She gritted her teeth against crying out at the agonizing pain from rotating her shoulders, letting her arms fall. Tears pricked the backs of her eyes, but she refused to show that type of weakness in front of the Major.
"Well I'm hoping this morning you will be more accommodating," Callahan said, picking an invisible piece of lint off of his pants and then looking at Max. She was shoved into a chair across from him.
"Speaking of accommodations," Max said, slouching in the chair as relaxed as possible, "The accommodations of my room seem to be lacking. I didn't even get a pillow chocolate."
Her wise crack seemed to dig at the Major slightly, a fire lighting his dark eyes for a moment. He stared at her, saying nothing. Then he just shook his head in disgust. The soldiers stepped forward. It was then that Max realized they had brought other items into the room with them. She took in the buckets of water, washcloth and the large bin. Then she looked back at Callahan.
"Waterboarding? Really? Now I really know you're off your meds. The US Government doesn't waterboard their citizens."
"What about this situation seems normal to you, Max? Do you believe you are being detained in a normal lawful manner? Do you believe that all normal laws still stand after the country began to fall apart to a plague?"
"So, what you're saying is you don't actually represent any government," Max said. This was the most information she had received from Callahan since the questioning started. She knew well enough that the behavior and treatment she was on the receiving end of were not legal. However, what she didn't know was why Callahan wanted her or her siblings.
"I represent what is left of the US Government," Callahan replied stiffly.
"What's left? Like is the President left?"
"There is a President in power. Just not the one you know of."
"What happened to the President?"
"What's happened to everyone? The plague hit DC the same as everywhere else," Callahan shrugged as if he wasn't concerned with the happening of it.
"So, the new President, the new government, is ok with torturing United States citizens?" Max asked.
"That's enough questions from you. I've given you information, so I think I'm due to some answers as well, Max. Where is your brother?"
"My brother? Only my brother?" Max asked. She had carefully filed away all of the questions Callahan had asked her during their little sessions the last few days.
"Max, what did I say about the questions?"
Before Max could react, her body was hit with an electric shock and she fell to the side off the chair, her muscles involuntarily convulsing. Tweedle Dum held a baton stun gun against her side and Max began to scream as her body twitched and her skin itched. Callahan waved off the soldier and he stepped back.
"You will need to behave, Max," the Major said, bending slightly to the side to look Max in the face. With her hands still bound, she had struck her chin when she fell and she could taste the coppery bite of blood in her mouth. She was hoisted back into the chair and she could barely sit without falling over again. Her energy was depleted from having no real meals. Dehydration was setting in, her lips cracked and bleeding from a lack of water and from the numerous blows to her face.
"Where is your brother Rafe?" Callahan asked again.
"I don't know," Max replied.
"That isn't the answer I'm looking for, Max."
"It's the only one I'm giving you," Max said, defiance trying to rise up in her.
Suddenly she was yanked back and her chair was tilted at an angle over the tub. S
he tried to fight the hands that held her still, but she was tied to the chair by a rope that they looped around her waist. A washcloth was held over her face and before she could get a deep breath, water began to pour over the washcloth. The water was ice cold, causing her to flinch and gasp in reaction. That only created a worse problem, drowning. Water invaded her mouth, her nose, her throat. Dehydration was no longer on her mind, drowning was.
For Max the moment felt like an eternity, she couldn't breathe, her mind felt like it was going to start short-circuiting. Just as she was sure she wouldn't survive, she was yanked into a vertical position and sat in front of Callahan again. She gasped for breath, choking and sputtering on the water that had slipped down her throat. Her hair, already dirty and hanging in ratted clumps, was drenched and soaking her thin T-shirt. Her sweater had long ago been disposed of, leaving her cold and shivering now that she was wet.
"Where is Rafe, Max?" Callahan asked again.
"Thanks for the drink, I was feeling parched," Max replied, spitting at his feet.
"What does Rafe know about the plague?" Callahan asked another question that had surprised Max the first time he had asked it.
"I'm sure he knows it kills people," Max responded with the same answer she had provided before.
Callahan sighed, clearly exasperated with her lack of response to his questions. With a nod of his head, she was again hit with a blast of electricity from the baton stun gun. This time the current touched her abdomen. A soldier stood behind her, keeping her from flipping out of her chair. She tried to keep her teeth clenched, but the burning pain was more than she could handle, and a brutal scream ripped from her throat.
The baton was pulled away from her body, but the burning didn't stop immediately. Her muscles twitched painfully. She was able to clench her jaw to keep herself from crying out further. Her eyes watered, but she refused to allow tears to fall. Forcing her eyes to focus on Callahan, she could feel pure hatred. The man sat in his perfect uniform, his perfect haircut and stared at her with no concern on his face.
Survive (Sundown Series Book 2) Page 27
