by Elodie Colt
I had no idea where I was or how much time had passed. For all I knew, they could have shipped me off to another continent while I was out like a light. I couldn’t even tell if it was night or day. Planning an exit strategy would be difficult. Patience was needed now, which was something I lacked, considering I was in the dark about Dylan’s whereabouts or the rest of the crew. I knew that Cassie had used Dylan’s condition as an excuse to lure me out—and it made me damn angry that I fell for their deceptions a second time—but this was no assurance that no one was harmed.
Thinking back to when I’d exited the compound last time, I didn’t recall any of Cole’s team standing sentry outside. Both entrances were guarded twenty-four-seven. The Hunters had somehow managed to draw them away, and I doubted Cassie had done it herself. Which left the question—
The locks on the heavy door clicked, and it was only after about half a minute of scratching and fumbling that it swung open. Several locks seemed to be kept in place. Should I be proud of being handled like a criminal on Interpol’s top-wanted list?
A young, delicate woman entered, followed by a tall guy in heavy army boots. He was armed with a staff, and gathering from the lack of facial expression, he was undoubtedly a guard. Their eyes flashed with the Flare. Roes. I wasn’t surprised. I wouldn’t have counted on coming across any normal people here.
The woman’s eyes were wary as she approached me as if she was afraid. Afraid of me or someone else? She wore a baby blue coat, similar to the one I’d borrowed when breaking into the hospital’s archive with Dylan. Her golden hair was pulled into a low ponytail, revealing a heart-shaped, porcelain face and freckles on her cheeks. She held a tray of food, which she set down on the cot next to me.
“Who are you?” I asked in a sharp voice.
“I’m here to tend to your wounds,” she answered without looking at me, sidestepping my question. Gathering from the lack of a medkit or any other medical stuff, I figured she was a Regenerator.
I slapped her hand away as she lifted it up to my lip that was still split from my last training lesson. “I don’t need your healing. Where am I?”
A familiar click echoed through the empty space, and I froze. The guard had a gun pointed in my direction.
“You’ll do as you’re told,” he sneered, his eyes unrelenting.
He was a very ugly man, to say the least—a huge, crooked nose and an angry scar elongating the outer corner of his mouth, giving him the appearance of wearing a permanent, vicious grin. It prevented him from opening his mouth properly when speaking. His voice was so deep, it rumbled through the cell. To say this man was downright frightening would have been an understatement. He was a mixture of Dwayne Johnson and Joker from Batman.
“You want to shoot me? Why bother with a Regenerator to heal me, then?” I snapped, despite the danger I felt coming.
The guard’s face turned red with anger, and a vein in his neck started to pulse. He couldn’t compete with my logic, but he was eager to show me who was in charge here. Taking two steps closer, he rested the gun’s barrel on my kneecap. I swallowed down hard.
“Do you know why Regenerators are so convenient?” he drawled, eyes glinting with excitement. I kept my mouth shut and tried my best not to look frightened. “I can shoot you now and let her heal you,” he explained with a nod in the woman’s direction, who was standing by my side, nervously tugging at the hem of her coat and head bent in submission.
“And then…” He paused, bringing his face so close to mine, his hot, sour breath wafted over my cheek. “... I can do it again. And again. And again.” His voice became lower with each word until it was barely a whisper. “And no one will ever know. Do you really want to push your luck?”
No one will ever know… He wasn’t the one pulling the strings here, but I’d already suspected it. So, who was it then? Aitana? Dorian? Or a new player?
The guard took my silence as surrender and motioned for the woman to start with the healing, stepping back to give her room. I didn’t complain this time. Thinking about it, it would be stupid to refuse the offer. Injuries would only slow me down if I wanted to escape.
The woman knelt down in front of me to start her healing procedure. Heat rushed through my system, but as my wounds were only superficial, the pain was dull. She concentrated on the cut on my lip, then moved to the scrapes on my forehead. “Please make your upper body bare,” she asked with a soft voice.
I gave the guard a sharp look. “Not as long as he’s watching.” No way would I give him the pleasure of seeing me naked.
A lazy grin crept over his mouth, one that made me want to gag. “Nothing I’ve not seen before, Natural.”
Doubtful, I thought. “Only over my dead body,” I growled through clenched teeth.
“Oh, you say that now,” he replied, yanking out a sharp knife from his belt. Stepping closer again, he glided the knife under the hem of my shirt, lifting it an inch. My heart rate increased, and my breathing became erratic. “Either you’ll do it, or I’ll do it for you. Your choice.”
“Gordon, I don’t think he’ll be pleased with that,” the woman interjected with a sharp look in his direction. He? Not Aitana, then. Dorian, maybe? “Why don’t you wait outside until I’m finished?”
Gordon sneered at me, then at her, but finally backed off allowing me to breathe again. “One wrong move, and I’ll make sure you regret it,” he warned with a final glare of malice and stomped out, getting into position in front of the steel door after it slammed shut.
What did he expect me to do? Use my powers and bring down the ceiling on top of us?
I turned around in case Gordon peeked through the window and shrugged off my jacket and shirt, revealing some nasty bruises I’d received while training with Lisa. The woman’s hands hovered over my skin as she activated her ability.
“Thank you,” I said to her. Gordon would never have left without her intervening. She gave me a slight nod in acceptance. “What’s your name?” She appeared to be a kind person who might be forced to work here. Winning her as my ally seemed my only option to get out of this prison and fleeing from whatever horror awaited me.
“I’m not allowed to talk to you,” she whispered, eyes averted.
“Please… Where am I? What do they want with me?” I pressed, but she only shook her head. “How can I get out of here?” I continued, and this time, she shot me a warning look, then nodded in the direction of the door and pointed a finger to her ears. It took me a second to understand what she wanted to tell me—Gordon was a Catcher. He must be one hell of a Catcher if his ability could penetrate the massive concrete walls. Dammit. This limited my options for communication.
I nodded in understanding, defeat dampening my spirits. After the Regenerator finished, I donned my clothes. Gordon opened the door a second later retrieving a set of keys he tossed to the woman. She shuffled through them until finding the right one and opened my manacle. I didn’t catch which key she used as they all looked identical to me.
Gordon approached me, another pair of shackles in his hands, which he put around my wrists, snapping them so tight they cut off my blood flow, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me in pain.
“Get up,” he snapped, the gun in his hands a silent warning. The woman put a warm hand on my upper arm and tugged lightly, telling me to be a good girl and cooperate. For now, I did.
They steered me out into the hallway. I remembered Scott’s instructions from a training lesson months ago. “Know your environment.” So, I tried my best to memorize every detail as they escorted me down the broad aisle.
More concrete. Everywhere. Long neon tubes illuminated the wide corridors, giving off an unpleasant, cold light that only added to the scary aura of the place. We passed several cells similar to mine, but I didn’t get close enough to the windows embedded in the doors to see who or what was inside.
The cells ended after what felt like an endless walk into the unknown, and we rounded a corner to the right where a w
ide glass panel filled up an entire wall. The rooms behind were filled with desks, lamps, and wide control panels with an array of buttons and wheels. If the long-curved microphones hanging in the air were anything to go by, they were control rooms of some sort, but they were void of any people. Worn-down chairs littered the room, and dust covered the surfaces, so I figured the place hadn’t been used for at least half a century. Several metal cabinets lined up along the back walls. Maybe they hid anything that could be used as weapons, but I didn’t have high hopes.
Finally, we reached the end of the aisle, another heavy steel door on the right.
“Behave,” Gordon cautioned before the woman opened the lock with her keys, hustling me through, the door shutting behind her with a loud rattle. Darkness engulfed me, but as soon as we entered, the neon tubes flickered to life with startling clanking sounds echoing off the tiled space, one by one showing me long basins in several rows on one side, and at least twenty shower cabins on the other side. An old community bath. Where the hell had I landed?
The woman walked over to a metal locker and took out towels, soap, and black clothes. They wanted me to take a shower.
I wondered how she expected me to take my clothes off with the manacles still in place, so I lifted my hands in front of my face with raised brows in her direction. The woman nodded in understanding and retrieved her keys, making them jingle with her trembling hands. She was really, truly afraid of me.
“I won’t hurt you. I promise,” I assured her, and after a glance into my eyes for reassurance, she opened my shackles but put them back in place again as soon as I was out of my clothes. She helped me soap my skin, as I couldn’t do it myself in my handicapped state, and rinsed me with warm water.
I didn’t fight. On the one hand, it didn’t feel as if the Regenerator was my enemy, and I had no intention to get her in trouble. On the other hand, there was nothing in this giant bathroom that would be of any help. Besides, the manacles limited my movements.
Dylan’s words from long ago came back into my mind. “Think. Then act. Never the other way around.”
I needed more time to gather information. Rash acting could be my downfall. What would I gain if I escaped now with as much knowledge as before? They would come for me again as long as we didn’t put a stop to this once and for all. We needed to figure out what the Hunters were up to, and I was closer to them than any of the rest had ever been before. Might as well use the situation to my benefit.
“I’m Gabby,” the woman whispered just loud enough for me to hear over the rush of water. “Don’t talk as long as there’s a possibility Gordon can hear you,” she continued, her voice quivering.
“Who’s keeping me here?” I whispered back.
“Don’t anger him,” she continued, ignoring my question. “He’s capable of anything…” From the sounds of it, Gabby had already made acquaintance with Gordon’s methods resulting from disobedience.
Gabby switched off the shower, which ended our brief conversation. After towel-drying me, she opened my manacles to stuff my arms through a plain black T-shirt and my jacket and helped me with the pants.
“You’re needed in the lab,” Gordon barked when we left the bath. Gabby nodded, giving me a pitiful look after hurrying down the aisle. Lab. I had a strange feeling I’d get acquainted with this area soon.
While Gordon walked me back to my cell, the barrel of his gun resting on my lower back, which, in my opinion, was exaggerated, I counted the steps. Ninety-two steps to the first corner, and then another one-hundred fifty-six to our desired destination. Two-hundred and forty-eight in total, and I had yet to walk the hallway in the other direction. The area was as big as Jimmy’s compound, and likely consisted of multiple levels.
After Gordon shoved me roughly back into my cage, he shackled my ankle, keeping my wrist manacles in place. “Your new companion will join you soon,” he informed me with an evil grin on his face. It sounded as if the cot opposite mine was occupied.
I didn’t need to wait long until the door creaked open again, and Gordon pushed another figure inside. From the looks of long, blonde hair, it was a woman, but it wasn’t until Gordon shackled her and left the room, that she finally lifted her head. Bruises in all shades covered her face, and her tangled hair clung to the blood crusts on her forehead.
I recognized her only because of the swirls of her colorful tattoo on her cleavage.
“You,” I muttered in astonishment.
Chris had the good sense to keep his mouth shut and not comment on my precarious driving, but gathering from the way he clutched the oh-shit handles, he was scared to death. He held on for dear life as I took the fastest route through the traffic, snaking the car around trucks and incapable drivers.
Haylie’s face kept invading my mind—the brief flash of hurt I’d inflicted when shouting at her for accusing Cassie, her eyes shining with unshed tears. The determined expression on her face, and the way her clothes clung to her sweaty body when we trained. The careless, musical laughs when we’d played football out in the cemetery or fighting in the mud, her gold-streaked hair glinting in the sunlight. The way her beautiful, jaylior eyes flashed with the Flare the first time I saw them for real. The licentious moans of ecstasy she sang during her Revival as her fingers clawed at my shoulders deep enough to scar my skin—scars that would always remind me of the best night of my life.
Then there were Jenna’s terror-stricken eyes shortly before she burst into flames in front of me, her red hair exploding into a bright halo of fire. And little, innocent Shawna with a cruel knife sticking from her body and drowning in a pool of blood.
Haylie…
She was the only one still alive. She was the reason I was still fighting. She was the reason I was still living. She was the only reason I would never give up. Not on her.
I hit the pedal harder, forcing Chris to hold on tight in the passenger seat.
“Dylan—” Chris started, clearly uncomfortable with sitting next to me as a driver.
“We need to hurry,” I growled, throwing fearful glances at the clock on the dashboard.
“Yeah, but we won’t be of much use to anyone if we find ourselves wrapped around a guard rail,” Chris snapped, hissing as I missed a car’s side mirror by inches.
I remained silent. Patience wasn’t one of my virtues. I clenched my teeth as I tried to reign in the fury uncurling in my gut. I was glad Chris’ eyes were glued to the road I drove like a man possessed, or he would have caught me barely hanging onto sanity, close to slipping into the Bluster. Even the hard material of the steering wheel gave way under my strong grip deepening the ergonomic imprints.
My phone buzzed, and I was glad for the distraction. “Hit me,” I said when I saw Cole was calling.
“It’s bad,” he replied in a gruff voice, and I could tell he could barely control his temper. “I lost three and a half of my team.”
“What?” Chris shrieked.
“What do you mean?” I urged, confused about the last part of what Cole had said.
“Kim, Harvey, and Patricia didn’t make it.” There were a few seconds of silence as Chris and I exchanged fearful looks. “They didn’t survive the first explosion.”
“The first?” I repeated in alarm.
“Tamara, Ian, and Xanders were posted on the northern exit and rushed to the southern one when they heard the explosion. Tamara smelled there was a second bomb and made a run with Ian just in time—they got away with scratches. Sarah is currently healing them, but it hit Harvey pretty hard. He was too close to the explosion, and it burst his eardrums. He’ll be deaf for the rest of his life. I sent him home.”
Shit. Harvey was a Catcher. His ears were too sensitive. Any other might have gotten away with tinnitus, but Harvey was no use to us anymore.
“This can’t be happening,” Chris muttered.
“Any idea when you’ll be back? I could use a few hands to clear the mess…” Cole mumbled in desperation.
“We’re going as fast as we
can,” I replied with another look at the clock. “Give us half an hour.”
This was a fucking nightmare… Well, now it was official that I was incapable of being a compound leader. I had held the position for barely two hours. Three Roes were dead and one handicapped for the rest of his life, not to mention that the only Natural from our compound was kidnapped from under my nose. Again. How many failures could one person accomplish in such a short time?
“We’ll find her, Dylan,” Chris interrupted my self-pitying. “They want her alive, you know that.”
Yeah, they wanted her alive, but in which condition would she be in when I found her? She wouldn’t give up that easily, I’d made sure of that. I’d trained her to fight until her last breath, drilled it into her brain every training session. The Hunters needed to resort to more persuading measures if they wanted to break her.
And if Dorian was behind all this, which was very likely, I could only imagine what kind of techniques he’d use to get what he wanted.
I lunged at the woman opposite me without a second thought, but the chain prevented me from reaching her and snapped me to a stop in the middle of the room, nearly giving me a whiplash.
A pained smile played on Cassie’s face as she drew up her knees, wrapping her hands around them. She remained silent as I glared at her. Her usual shiny hair was a greasy mess, her hands dirty, one hand bandaged and leaking blood. Her skin was ghostly white, and her cheekbones and collarbone stood out sharply. Nevertheless, I couldn’t say I felt pity for her.
“I’m going to kill you,” I threatened, but she only chuckled.
“I’m already more dead than alive,” she croaked, her voice raspy like the one of a chain smoker.
“Why did you do it?” I snapped, cursing the shackle on my ankle for not allowing me to jump her and ruin her face for good.
Cassie only laughed louder, shaking her head. “Does it not surprise you that I’m here in the same cell as you? In this condition?” Now that I thought about it, it was strange. She was with the Hunters, right? So, what had she done to become their enemy so quickly? “You never were the brightest…” was all she said before the steel door swung open again.
