by Keri Lake
In the light, he truly looks like a beast, and I steal the opportunity to study the features unseen in his dark cell. Small patches of hair on his chest that give some insight into his age. The scars, so many more than I saw before, scattered over his body. The tight muscles beneath his skin that look strong enough to throttle all of us at once if he wanted. And below his helmet is a silver band I didn’t notice before around his throat, which seems to be soldered to his helmet, as though preventing its removal.
“What’s the band at his throat?”
“A tracker,” Medusa answers. “All the Alphas wear one.”
He doesn’t even spare me a glance when he passes.
“What’s happening?” I ask, sliding my hand behind my back so Medusa won’t notice the cut. “Where are they taking him?”
“Never mind that.” She sets her hand to the wall of the door beside us, and when it clicks open, she waves me inside.
Confusion settles over me, as I peer into an identical shadowy cell, and back to her. “What is this?”
“Doctor Ericsson would like to see how you interact with Titus.”
Heart slamming into my throat, I cough and choke on my spit. “Another Alpha? I … I thought … I thought the reason binding happened was because I carry some of Valdys’s DNA, or something.”
“Well, the good Doctor would like to test that theory.” A hard shove from behind sends me flying into the room and crashing to my knees, and before I can twist around to escape, the door closes.
The pounding inside my chest stutters my breaths, as the hairs on my skin prickle. Shit.
Gaze glued to the shadows, I watch for movement, the slightest twitch. At least with Valdys, I’ve developed a certain level of predictability. Surely, this Alpha can hear every breath that saws out of me, thick with the same fear that has my muscles trembling right now. Swallowing past the dryness, I clear my throat and push to my feet, knees sore from the fall and ready to buckle. “Hello?”
Bed springs squeak, and an enormous figure emerges from the darkness, into the light from the corridor. He looks like a carbon copy of Valdys. Over six foot, his skin riddled in a slightly different pattern of scars, muscles tight and prominent. An iron helmet covering his head, giving an inhuman barbarity to his appearance. He lurches toward me, and ripples of panic shoot down my spine as I back myself against the wall.
Don’t move! My brain screams inside my head.
Just as with Valdys, the cold iron of his helmet drags over my skin, as he smells me. Warm, calloused hands slide down my shoulder, tensing my muscles. He draws my hand from behind my back, and before I can stop him, he’s found my wound. He lifts my hand to his face, and though I tug my arm back, he shoves my finger through the mouth hole of his helmet. A wet, silky tongue slides over my skin, and every fiber inside my body is taut with the moment this beastly thing will bite down and chew my finger clean off.
Fleshy lips seal over my knuckle, and he glides my finger back out, kissing the burning cut, before he releases my hand. I recoil my arm so quickly, it slaps against the wall behind me, sending a bruising vibration up through my bones.
A purring rumble in his throat sends a tickle through my chest, and I don’t even have the opportunity to exhale, before he swipes my legs out from beneath me. The air moves quickly around me as he carries me across the room and sets me down on his bed.
Gently.
The bed dips with his weight, and he slides in beside me, caging me between him and the wall.
With a cautious hand set to his hip, I pull myself up to climb over him, but he pushes me back to the mattress.
“Stay.” The raspy tone of his voice is soft, but spiked with a warning.
Every cell inside of me shakes uncontrollably, and I lie back down, as he commands.
Their lips aren’t sewn, after all.
Rough hands stroke my hair, my face, and he wriggles closer, pressing me tighter against him. I’m expecting him to crush me at any minute, to smother me beneath his oversized body as he rapes me here on his bed, to touch me in ways that no male has ever touched me before.
Instead, he lies quietly next to me, his palm running over me in an investigative, rather than sexual, way.
“So soft.” He sets his palm against mine, stretching my fingers, and it’s then I notice how big his hands are, how easily they could crush mine. “You smell like flowers.”
Though there’s a husky nature to his voice, he seems to be more comforted than aroused, like one who’s not had much human contact, at all.
Minutes pass, with his curious, though not entirely violating, caresses, until the door clicks open, casting a blast of light into the cell, and Titus rolls away from me. Two Legion soldiers march into the room, and with one hand, he pushes me against the wall, growling back at them, as if he’s … protecting me.
The soldiers lurch forward, jabbing their guns at him, and I notice the sharp points at the tips aren’t gun barrels, but some kind of spear.
Titus roars, falling to all fours, and he swipes out at the soldiers, who skirt his swings. Not a minute later, he collapses, twitching and moaning.
Flicking his fingers at me, the Legion soldier steps over the Alpha and holds out a hand. The moment I reach back, his legs fly up in the air, and the soldier smacks to the floor. My pulse races, as I watch Titus scramble over him, but he doesn’t get a single punch in, before a second soldier rushes toward the two and stabs Titus again.
Massive arm drawn back, Titus crashes like an iron statue, crumbling to the floor.
My leg bounces incessantly, while I sit before Doctor Ericsson, who rewinds the video of my interaction with Titus.
“You see? Here. Here is that protective nature I was telling you about.”
Head tilted downward, I lift only my gaze toward the screen, on which he’s paused an image of Titus. Shoulders bunched, hands balled into a fist, he looks ready to fight. I imagine, behind that helmet is a murderous stare to match his stance.
“This isn’t a problem with the female subject. It’s Valdys. He’s toying with me.” Brows furrowed, he sits rubbing his smooth chin. “Perhaps we’ll have the helmets removed. That might help acclimate them.”
“They’re attached permanently?”
“Not permanently, but they’re not permitted to remove them. However, in the spirit of testing variables, perhaps we’ll see if that’s a factor.” He huffs, tapping a finger to his lips. “I’ll think about it. Allowing them too much freedom gives the wrong impression.”
Freedom? From not having to wear a heavy slab of iron day and night? I don’t bother to tell him he has freedom and humanity mixed up. “Why did you put me in there with him? Titus?”
“Titus rejected his assigned female. We thought we’d try cross binding to see if there was something wrong with you.”
His words carve into my chest as it occurs to me just how insignificant I am. That I could be thrown into another cage like a mouse being shared between snakes. “Rejected her?” After his gentle interactions with me, I find it hard to believe Titus would reject anything.
“Yes. Would you like to see the tape?”
“No.” God, no. The last clip he showed me resulted in nightmares of me being torn in half by Valdys.
“Is … is she dead?”
“Not dead, no.”
“Did he rape her?”
He shakes his head, and at the chasing frown on his face, I don’t bother to ask. “Her contributions to the Alpha Project are no longer necessary.”
She wasn’t raped. She wasn’t killed. But something happened that she is no longer needed. My guess? The girl is now useless--that’s they only time a body is put out of service in this place, unless they’re dead, and that follows shortly after useless.
“What was the interaction with you and Titus earlier? The finger thing?” Doctor Ericsson lifts chin, staring down his nose toward where my finger is buried in my lap.
“I … cut myself.”
“May I see?” He
reaches out his hand, and with trepidation, I set mine over his palm. Gripping the tip and the base of it, he twists in front of him, examining the wound. “That’s fairly deep. Looks like it could’ve used stitches. How did you manage such a clean cut?”
“I … was … I ...” I glance over to Medusa, whose eyes narrow on me as I stumble through an explanation. “Opening one of the crates in the kitchen. A nail was sticking up.”
His brows twitch, and he crosses his arms over his chest. “The next time you sustain an injury that causes significant bleeding, you’re to let me know. We’re dealing with human beings who enjoy bloodshed. He undoubtedly smelled it from across the room.”
Undoubtedly.
“If my binding is with Valdys, why wasn’t I rejected by Titus?”
“Ah, she has the curious mind of a scientist. It’s a wonderful trait.” He tips his head, his lips stretching into that greasy, snake-like smile. “Shame you’re a woman. But anyway, why, indeed. We chose to test Titus because he seems to be inexplicably loyal to Valdys.”
“How so?”
“During training, he’s stepped in front of Valdys a few times, seeming to protect him. Not that Valdys needs much protection. He is, after all, our best fighter.”
“What was he protecting him against?”
“Cadmus. So, naturally, it seemed to me that he would want to protect you. Which means, your scent is strong. Strong enough that I’m certain Valdys is just being stubborn.”
“How do you know it’s stubbornness? Maybe he genuinely doesn’t like me.”
“Well, that’s what we intend to test next, my dear.”
“How?”
His smile widens even more, and I can almost see the slime of venom dripping from his too-white teeth. “By seeing how he behaves while knowing you’ll be punished for his actions.”
Chapter 11
Four years ago
* * *
From a distance, I watch Bryani jerk forward in laughter, as she sits beneath a tree with her new friends. I wear the bruises of a fight, whereas she acts as if she’s never been around girls her age before, basking in the frivolity of small talk, while Ragers pace nearby. There were a couple of girls about her age back in our hive that she shied away from, yet here, she seems to accumulate more every day. We’ve been assigned the same barrack, so I hear her at night, giggling and whispering with them. I’ve chided her a few times, and awakened the next morning to dirty looks and more of the cold shoulder.
I don’t want to be jealous, but I miss the nights when she giggled and whispered with me. I envy her sense of belonging in this place that seems to reject everything about me. I need my sister.
My number is called in the monotone voice of a woman over the speaker. Bryani’s number follows mine, and she lifts her chin. I’m surprised she actually heard it over the girl chatter. Pushing up from her circle, she crosses the yard toward me, and for the first time in about a week, my sister and I walk unattended by a crowd.
“What is it, do you think?” she asks, glancing back, as if checking to make sure no one’s forgotten her in the last minute.
Shrugging, I try not to let my irritation get the best of me. This is the most I’ve gotten from Bryani in the last week. “Our assignments, maybe.”
“I hope I get scavenger duty. Eight-ninety-six says it’s fun and easy. All you do is pick through the clothes and look for anything valuable.”
I love my sister, but her youth makes her naive. “Have you seen the bodies wheeled on beds, Bree? You’re picking through dead people’s things.”
“They’re sick people. Ones who were infected with Dredge.”
“Were we sick when we arrived?” I grab her arm, forcing her to stop. “Don’t be stupid. Don’t you know what this place is? Why we’re here?”
“You don’t be stupid!” Wrenching her arm loose, she scowls back at me. “We don’t have a choice, so why not make the best of it? That’s what Momma always said. Make the best of every situation.”
I hate when she throws our mother in my face, and I know she blames me for her death. “Not here, Bryani. You have to be careful here. Keep your eyes open.”
“I do!” She presses her fingers and thumb at her eyes, widening them in mocking. “See?”
I feel sorry for Bryani, in some ways. At least when I was a child, our hive was strong. I could play for hours without the worry of raids and marauders, because their numbers were still fairly thin in the desert. I was watched by not only my mother, but my father, as well. He died when Bryani was an infant, in an attack from outsiders, which left my mother needing to be twice as vigilant. Bryani never really had much of a childhood. Her play was under the watchful and strict eye of my mother, burdened not only by the monsters who sought to ravage us, but the older men who coveted us for breeding.
Shaking my head, I walk away from her, toward our Barrack Leader’s office. Her name is Mistress Elspeth, a tall and stocky woman with stern eyes, whom I’ve come to refer to as Medusa. Another detail Bryani seems to be oblivious to, is the fact that this place is run like a prison. The kind of places Momma would show us in books, where bad people were locked away from the good.
Only thing is, we didn’t do anything wrong.
Once in Medusa’s office, we take a seat on the chair in front of her small, but tidy, desk.
She crosses her chubby fingers, and I have to wonder how this woman has so much meat on her in this place. The guards may certainly receive more food than we get, but the desert, as a whole, is always in a state of famine. “You’ve been assigned to your jobs. You’re to report directly there when you leave my office. In two days, you’ll have permanent barrack assignments.”
“Permanent barracks?” I swing my attention to Bryani, noticing how intently she seems to be listening, gaze on Medusa and hands fidgeting in her lap, as though she’s suddenly nervous.
Medusa’s eyes fall on my sister. “You’ve been assigned obstetrics. Different wing. Different barracks.” Like a machine, her gaze shifts to mine, lacking every ounce of compassion, or understanding, that my sister and I need to stay together in here. “You will work in the kitchen and remain in research. This wing.”
Shaking my head, I do my best to choke back the panic in my throat that’s begun to work its way into my eyes. “We … my sister and I … need to stay together. We’d like to stay in the same barracks.”
The woman’s eyes narrow, her expression unyielding. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
“I have to look out for her. I have to keep her safe. From the others.”
“Your sister has adjusted well. It seems to me it’s you who needs looking after.”
“Please. Don’t separate us.”
“It’s not my decision.” From beside her, she lifts an object that seems to be made of wood, and presses it onto a black pad. Flicking her fingers, she looks toward my sister, who raises her arm onto the desk without hesitation. The woman presses the object onto the back of her palm, and just like that, OBS is stamped there in big block letters. Medusa grabs a second object and flicks her fingers toward me, as well. KTC is stamped onto my skin, and I run my finger over the ink, which doesn’t smear away. “That will be all. You’re dismissed.”
“But … can I …. Can I go to obstetrics, too?” If I’m assigned to the same work area, I’ll be sent to the same barracks.
“No. And no further questions.”
“Please--”
“That will be all.” Her eyes burn with annoyance, as she speaks past clenched teeth.
In the one week I’ve been here, I’ve learned one thing about Medusa: I do not want to be on her bad side.
With a slight nod, I push up from the chair, and Bryani follows me out of the office. Shuffling after me, my sister can hardly keep up, as I stride through the hallway, desperate to hide the tears brimming in my eyes.
“Wait!” she calls out to me from behind. “Cali, wait!”
At the sound of my name, I stop and breathe hard to kee
p the tears away.
“It’s going to be okay. I’m going to be fine, okay? I can take care of myself.”
Tears slip down my cheeks at the idea that I will now have to sever the only role I’ve known since Bryani was small and could fit into my arms. The only role that made me feel important and necessary in this world that seems to have abandoned the idea of family. I don’t fight, or argue, as she tips her head to get my attention, brows winged up with expectation.
For her sake, I nod and wipe away my tears. “You’ll be okay.”
Chapter 12
Present day
A Legion soldier stands in the doorway of the kitchen’s back entrance. He looks out of place, lost, as he scans over the room from behind his mask, which most of them wear, as if searching for something.
Unpacking the canned goods onto a low shelf, I stare up at him, frowning.
He peels back the mask, revealing a clean-shaven, somewhat handsome face of a boy who’s not really a boy. Perhaps five, or six, years older than me. We don’t often see their faces. All of them look identical in their assigned uniform, aside from varying heights. It’s easy to forget there’s an actual person stuffed inside their suits.
“Can I help you?”
On occasion, Legion officers will request a piece of bread, or something to drink. In that case, it’s not considered stealing, and we’re to offer them whatever they ask for, albeit at the expense of another going without rations for the night, but most of them don’t care.
Legion are virtually untouchable here.
“Glass of water,” he says, before his tongue sweeps over his lips. “Now.”
Without any additional prompting, I push up from the floor and hustle toward the sink. Water spills from the faucet into the awaiting cup I hold beneath the stream. When I first arrived here, I’d never seen an actual working sink before. They were always somewhat useless structures found in abandoned buildings. As I understand it, this entire hospital is powered by enormous solar panels that also power a city beyond the wall of the hospital. Not one I’ve seen, of course. We’re not permitted to go beyond the wall, let alone breach the safety of what I’ve been told is paradise in the Deadlands.
