22
It could have been days. Weeks. Months. It was difficult to tell exactly how much time had passed.
Emery sat in the corner of her damp cell, arms crossed, teeth chattering. Drops of water splashed onto the stone floor at various intervals, each one making a larger plopping sound than the last. They seemed to be growing larger. She rubbed her fingers over her eyelids, cursing her contact lenses for making her eyes so dry. If she took them out, she’d be blinder than a bat. But if she left them in, she’d probably still end up blind from an infection, or worse.
Hopelessness was starting to cave in. Having faith wasn’t easy when it’d been days since she’d seen the outside world. She may as well be dead. Nonexistent.
Does anyone even know I’m here?
She banged the back of her head into the stone wall, wanting to feel something . . . anything. Pain coursed through her body, her head stinging from the impact. Sadly, that pain was the only thing telling her she was still alive. That this wasn’t all a terrible nightmare. It was real. Terrifying and real.
She squeezed her eyes shut, mustering all her strength to pull some kind of memory from the depths of her mind as to what had happened and how she’d gotten here. She’d tried this tactic a few times before to no avail; but this time, as her head throbbed and pounded, memories started to resurface. Sparse at first, and then all at once.
Her father’s body.
Her failed attempt to kill Victor.
The awful blow to her knee.
The people who had taken her here . . .
The memories began to fade. Emery hit her head against the wall again. Dots blurred her vision, but it worked. She was remembering.
Two people had taken her here. Two people she knew.
The realization came swiftly like a slap in the face.
Mason and Warren. Victor’s already gotten to them.
And then, another heartbreaking realization dawned on her.
My father is dead.
She fell forward into her hands, eyes burning as tears threatened to fall. She squeezed them shut and bit down hard on her lower lip.
You are not defeated. You are not defeated.
But her positive mantra only made things worse. Sobs erupted low and deep from within her stomach and crept up her throat. She let out a faint whimper, not wanting whoever was on the other side of the door to hear her. She pulled her shirt up over her mouth to muffle the sound.
With her knees tight against her chest, Emery rocked back and forth, slowly, as if she were in a rocking chair. It had a calming effect, like an ocean breeze ruffling the fronds of palm trees. She sat in silence for a few minutes, willing herself to stop heaving. When her chest finally halted its sporadic rhythm, she somehow found the strength to pull herself up from the floor. Though blurry, she spotted a small rectangular window at the top of the cell wall.
Standing on her good leg, she raised herself up onto her tiptoes, even though it was obvious she’d be too short to see out. She attempted to jump, immediately realizing what a terrible idea that was. Her bad knee popped as it hyperextended. She cried out, falling to the ground in immense pain, clutching her knee and praying for the pain to go away. I just want to know where I am. How long I’ve been here. If I’ll ever find a way out. If there even is a way out.
Then, as if someone up there was looking out for her after all, the door began to creak open. Her fingers grasped for the pendant out of habit, but she was grabbing at air. Her heart picked up pace, thumping loudly in her ears. Where’s the pendant?
Panic coursed through her veins, until she remembered Victor snatching the decoy pendant from her neck. She’d given the real omega pendant to Torin. But where is Torin? Is he trapped in one of these cells, too?
The door continued its long, steady creak. Play dead or make a run for it? She shook her head at the thought. She’d never make it out. Not with her bum knee that was now even less functional due to her delusional thoughts of reaching a window three times her height. She grimaced as the door opened.
In walked Victor with his usual smug demeanor. “Looks like you’ve settled in quite well,” he snarled.
“A blanket would have been nice,” she shot back as she stood up. Pain exploded through her leg like fireworks on the fourth of July.
Novak narrowed his eyes, clearly unnerved by her sarcastic remark. He pulled an oval-shaped device out of his jacket pocket. The surface was covered with small dials and knobs. A smirk lined his face as he pressed one of the buttons.
Emery’s eyes widened as a pair of holographic cuffs, buzzing with multiple electric currents, wrapped around her wrists. Shortly after, another pair of cuffs appeared around her ankles and a plexiglass dome formed around her. She placed her bound hands against the dome, banging them loudly in an effort to shatter the surface.
Novak grinned as he watched her pitiful attempt to break free. “Testing, testing,” he mocked, the sound of his voice filling the dome.
It took everything in her not to cringe. Her disgust toward him was growing deeper and deeper with each passing second.
He slithered over to her and placed a blinking orange device on the outside of the dome. “If you’d be so kind to follow me,” he instructed as he walked out of the cell door.
Without warning, the dome jolted forward. It was a strange feeling—almost like she was encapsulated in a gravity-free zone but somehow, she stayed upright instead of spinning in circles like she’d seen in every space astronaut film. She looked down at the holographic cuffs that bound her wrists and ankles. As she tried to lift her hands through the cuffs, something zapped her as if she were a dog trying to escape through an invisible fence.
She floated out the door right behind Novak and, although she was a prisoner being held against her will, couldn’t help but feel astounded at the advancement of technology in the 7S world. Her anger dissipated, while only briefly, as she continued to float along an invisible track.
Without warning, Novak came to a stop. She leaned to the left to peer around him. They’d reached the end of the hallway. She looked around, expecting to see a door of some sort, but there wasn’t one. Instead, the walls seemed to be getting longer and longer, further and further away.
She shifted her gaze downward as the floor they were standing on lowered into the ground. Whoa.
The ever-expanding walls seemed to stretch on for miles, making it difficult to bring her gaze back to the man in front of her. Novak didn’t make a sound, his eyes focused straight ahead, as the walls stopped moving.
And then everything was still.
She squinted in the darkness, trying to make sense of where he’d just taken her. Her vision was already limited, and if it weren’t for the glowing light from within her pod-like structure, her sight would be nonexistent.
Novak pressed another button on his remote. The end of it extended into a glowing silver orb. With this new guiding light, he walked forward into the darkness. Seeing as she had no choice in the matter, her pod moved along behind him at the same pace.
Her eyes drifted upward and she gawked at the enormous steel walls surrounding them. The area was so spacious and secure that it felt as though they’d entered some underground storage area. Storage for what? Machines? Robots? A lifetime supply of lethargum?
But the truth as to what was actually stored there was far more grotesque than anything she ever could have imagined.
Novak came to a stop in front of one of the walls, her pod halting in sync with his movements. With the touch of one button, hundreds of pod-like structures, just like the one she was currently occupying, came jutting out of the walls, one appearing after the other, as if they were on some sort of rotating device. It reminded her of when her mother would take her to go pick up her dry cleaning and the attendant would cycle through the racks to find her clothes.
What is this place?
As her own pod inched closer to the others, a disturbing realization hit her. Her stomach tu
rned as her eyes landed on the contents of each pod.
Human beings.
Bile crept up her throat. Emery yanked her hands in an upward motion to cover her mouth, but the holographic cuffs wouldn’t budge. She closed her eyes and took a deep inhale through her nose.
Keep it together.
Novak cycled through ten of the pods, grunting out of frustration, until he found the one he was looking for. He turned to face Emery, his mouth curling into a sickening grin as he brought her closer. She closed her eyes, not wanting to look at whatever he was about to show her.
His tone was harsh. “Open your eyes,” he commanded.
Unwillingly, Emery did as she was told, gasping at the sight before her. There lay her mother, surrounded by tiny, but visible, buzzing blue currents. She was completely clothed and her hair was done up like she was heading off to work. She hadn’t aged a day.
In that moment, all Emery could see was red. “What the hell is this place?” she managed through gritted teeth.
Novak rolled his eyes as if the answer were obvious. “It’s where we store the bodies of all those living in Dormance.”
Memories of the Dormance control room surfaced, specifically the one where she’d sliced the wires to Theo’s pod and the pods of the eleven other members of the FCW. When she’d shot them in the 7S world, they hadn’t survived. It made even more sense now.
I disconnected their pods. They had no life source to feed off of.
She’d figured that all of the dormants’ bodies had to be stored somewhere, but she never would have imagined it would be a place like this—a dark, dreary underworld that never saw the light of day with hundreds of thousands of human beings left to be preserved. And when their DNA was no longer useful, they’d be killed off. The value of a human life reduced to nothing.
It was appalling.
“Get me out of here,” she snapped. “You are a sick, sick man.”
“On the contrary,” Novak drawled, “it’s quite remarkable. We were able to preserve every single human being that we’ve rendered comatose. When we need DNA for testing, it’s readily available. The advancements we’ve made in stem cell research and biochemistry are truly astonishing. I would show you yours . . .”
Emery’s eyes widened at his comment and she feared she might be sick. “Show me my what?”
“The pod containing your body.” He paused. “But unfortunately, this isn’t possible. Those that participated in the Alpha Drive don’t have bodies here. Not anymore, at least.” He sighed.
As disgusted as she was with Novak, the FCW, and the entire concept of Dormance, Emery felt a visceral desire to know more. To understand. “What do you mean, not anymore?”
“Let’s see, how can I explain this?” He tapped his chin with his index and middle fingers. “When you were deployed to the real world, your dormant body merged with your real body.”
Emery shook her head in disbelief. “How?”
“For the sake of time and avoiding an unnecessary technical conversation, I’ll give you the condensed version.”
What Emery wanted was the full unadulterated explanation, but she kept her mouth shut. She didn’t want Novak to suddenly change his mind. A little information was better than no information.
“Your real body, along with the other Alpha Drive participants, was preprogrammed to be extracted from the pod to immerse as one with your dormant body during the teleportation process.”
She took a moment to digest the information. “So you’re saying that everything that happened to me in Dormance also happened to me in the 7S world? And vice versa?”
He raised an eyebrow and nodded, clearly impressed by her quick understanding.
She blinked, unsure how to respond.
“I digress,” Victor continued. “The real news here is that you’ve finally provided me with both of the keys.” He held up his left hand, her long-lost alpha ring dangling from his pinky finger, then pulled the omega pendant from his jacket pocket. The pendant spun through the air like a ballerina making her debut performance.
Emery refused to break her gaze from the pendant. She waited patiently for the horseshoe to slow its rotation, until the back of it finally faced her. She tried to hide her smile as the tiny blue dot revealed itself.
Hello, my friend.
Hope resurfaced. Not all was lost. Victor hadn’t uncovered the real pendant yet.
23
After the introduction to the underworld storage system, Victor had hurriedly guided Emery back to her cell. With a grunt, he’d dismantled the pod and holocuffs, then threw her back into her cell with only a thin, measly blanket to boot.
Days later (or at least what she thought was days later), Emery sat wrapped up in that same measly blanket in her usual corner, trying to calculate how long it’d been since she’d last seen Novak. The window at the top of her cell had proven to be helpful in determining the time of day. Even though she couldn’t see the exact position of the sun, she at least knew when it rose and when it set. Cloudy days were the most difficult. They felt endless.
But today was a bright and sunny day. The sun had just risen, making it approximately four days since she’d last seen the chief.
She crawled toward the door, waiting patiently for her meal, which was normally a stale piece of bread, a slice of questionable meat, and a vegetable medley slopped in some sort of salty broth. At least the water was ice cold—it was hard for anything to stay warm in this altitude.
The tray of food appeared in front of her, first as a hologram, before it transformed into physical food. Although the meals were redundant and her taste buds were bored, she devoured every bite, only stopping to wash the food down with the chilled water. When she finished her bland meal, she pushed the tray toward the edge of the door, watching as it disappeared into thin air. It made her wonder where all of the trays went. Perhaps into an abyss somewhere?
She pulled herself up to her feet and walked back toward her designated corner with the blanket draped around her shoulders. She gazed up at the window, realizing it wasn’t as small as she’d originally thought. Actually, it was close to the size of the tray she’d just eaten from. Maybe there was even a possibility that she could find a way to slip out . . . if she conjured up the right tools.
A light bulb switched on in her head.
Lunch time came and went. As the tray appeared with the second round of food, Emery called out to request another blanket. She wasn’t sure if anyone had heard her, or if there was even anyone on the other side, but it was worth a shot. She called out again. No response.
After finishing her meal, she pushed her tray to the edge of the door, watching as it vanished. She waited hopefully, but no blanket appeared. She curled up into a ball and secured the thin piece of fabric around her. Her teeth chattered as she leaned her head against the wall. Although she was cold and the food was bland, a full belly was enough to satiate her and allow her to doze off into a semi-restful sleep.
Dinner time. The final meal of the day. Her knee was starting to feel better as the days wore on. Every time she awoke, she’d do her best to elevate it and try to keep the blood from swelling around her knee. It was working so far.
The sun was just starting to set, meaning her dinner should arrive at any minute. With less of a limp, she moved toward the door, her breath catching as a tray appeared with a dinner roll, pork chops, and a whole potato. An actual meal. She knew she should be grateful, but there was something she wanted just a little bit more. She lowered her head and closed her eyes. Please give me a blanket.
To her delight, a neatly folded blanket appeared next to the dinner tray. She almost jumped out of her own skin as she grabbed the blanket first, then the tray, and brought them over to the corner of the cell. Her fingers gathered the edges of the new blanket. It was just like the one she had. Thin and measly. But both blankets were thin enough to fasten together. The only question was, would it hold?
Emer
y began to tie knots throughout the blankets, feeling like a young child making an escape ladder for play. She took a quick bite of her meal before dumping the rest of the food onto the ground and worked the tray into a knot in her rope-blanket. She triple knotted the blanket in two areas—where the two blankets met and where she’d fastened the tray horizontally at the end. This plan would either be a complete success or a total failure. Either way, she was about to find out.
Standing a few feet back from the window, she turned the tray so that it was vertical and upright, her fingers grasping onto a couple feet of the makeshift rope. She focused on the center of the window and took a deep breath. The tray catapulted upward, hitting the edge of the window before clattering back to the ground. She grimaced and ran over to pick it up, hoping that no one had heard the noise.
When she was sure there was nothing but silence in the hallways, she tried again. She turned the tray vertical again, but this time, laid it flat against her palms. She took another deep breath and launched the tray into the air, watching as it slid seamlessly through the window over onto the wall outside. Yes! She tugged on the blanket, the tray catching on the outside perimeter of the window. She yanked on it one more time to be sure it was secure, then started her climb upward.
She placed her right foot on the wall and leaned back, tugging on the rope again to make sure it would hold her. She wasn’t entirely convinced, but there wasn’t much time—the food trays normally disappeared from her cell after thirty minutes, whether she’d finished her meal or not. (Unfortunately, she’d learned this the hard way.) If the tray disappeared while she was climbing up the wall, it’d be bad news for her. She’d either face-plant or back-plant, depending on the fall. And that stone floor wasn’t very forgiving.
The divots in the wall made it easier to climb than she’d expected. Imaginary sounds of the blanket ripping filled her ears, and she had to stop a few times to make sure it was all in her head and not actually happening. When she finally reached the window, she grasped at an indentation on the outside wall. With her right hand, she pushed the tray away from the window, holding firmly onto the blanket. She pulled her head and shoulders through the window, the blanket secure underneath the weight of her body, and peered over the edge.
The Order of Omega (The Alpha Drive Book 2) Page 12
