I sucked my breath in and dropped into a crouch. I needed a weapon, a rock, something I could use to hammer on top of them. Break their noses. Bludgeoned them. Anything. My knuckles skimmed over something small, round and rough. I gripped it tight only to have the rock disintegrate between my fingers.
Hands landed on my back, gripping my shirt. Despite terror chilling my blood, I didn’t scream. I was thrown to the side and I scraped across the ground, as loud as a gunshot in the quiet. More footsteps rushed to my location as another pair of legs leaped over me, colliding with the incoming person.
The two of them fought, one prisoner hissing while the other remained muted. I crawled out from beneath their feet as two whacks sounded above followed shortly by the thump of a dropping body. I pulled my legs in, scrambling backward in search for the wall again. More footsteps rushed in from the other side of the room. More fighting. Another body fell.
I stopped moving once the silence returned. My eyes had adjusted somewhat, but not enough to clarify any detail. Through the dark, a hand gripped my ankle. Automatically I tried to flick them loose, kicking into a strong shoulder. I was dragged backward. I bought my other leg up, preparing to ram my heel into their face, but the prisoner knocked my leg away. Gripping my shoulders he pressed me against the wall. A dirty hand grabbed my face and squeezed over my mouth so roughly it hurt. The strong grip mushed my cheeks together, silencing my shriek.
On him was a smell that was familiar, drawing me out of the moment. I grabbed his hand and felt along his strained fingers. In response, his grip lessoned.
More footsteps shifted near us. He stilled. Instinctively, I stilled too. A moment passed in tense, uncertain quiet. He slowly drew his hand away before pressing his index up against my lips, signalling me to be quiet.
I blinked dumbly into the darkness. What the hell? He patted down my cheeks, jaw and nose, identifying my face. I cringed but couldn’t move away from beneath the prisoner’s body. His chest heaved as though relieved before he pressed his forehead gently against my shoulder. It was just like….
I gasped at the impossibility of it. “Diesel?”
There was a click of movement in front of us. The prisoner I had figured—hoped—to be Diesel leaned back. I reached my hands to his face to feel a cold nip of a metal mask secured along his jawline. I traced the muzzle along his jaw and over his mouth, the thick band wrapped tightly around his head that puffed his hair out beneath it. I found his eyebrows, running my thumb across them gently and immediately recognising the scowl that pulled them together. The tips of my fingers tingled. Through the darkness I could almost sense his gaze, imagining the familiar glare that only his black eyes could master. He jerked around at a noise, tearing his face away from my hands. A million questions sprung to mind, but only one managed to squeeze out.
“How do we get out?”
Diesel took my hand and pointed it upward, signalling the hatch. I itched on the spot but didn’t move toward it. The room went quiet as the dust settled. Diesel remained crouched beside me, his hip pressed against the bend of my knee. Every now and again his hand would search the space in front of us before finding my foot. His touch didn’t linger.
I don’t know how long we waited in silence. None of the others moved toward me now, and I had a feeling it had to do with Diesel crouching protectively over my body. Maybe they could see him. Maybe they could sense how his eyes hardened in his protective rage. Whatever it was, no one moved.
Until the click of the hatch was pulled back. The portal opened, spilling in white light that burnt my eyes with dark spots. I looked sideways at Diesel, confirming my guess. An iron muzzle framed his jawline firmly, cutting into his cheeks that were already gashed and bruised. Black bruises circled his right eye, which had swollen shut. I wanted to reach out and touch him. Thank him in some way, let him know just how much I wanted him here but he didn’t look at me. His back, though still bent in his crouch, seemed to tighten. He kept his attention straight ahead.
Beyond the bodies left on the ground was a line of faces huddled opposite us. There must have been another fifteen prisoners inside the bunker, easily outnumbering me and Diesel. They clung to each other’s elbows and hips, moving in a single awkward unit like a spider, long limbs and shallow eyes. All of them were men, with the exception of some that were mere boys, no older than fourteen. Dirty. Starving. Wild. They didn’t look at Diesel but watched me. I was suddenly aware that I was the only female inside the hole. That was, until the next prisoner dropped in.
A blonde girl fell through the roof, landing on her side. All at once fifteen pairs of eyes turned to her. I looked at her too. She squinted into the darkness, blinded as I was as the lid locked shut above her head. The wheel knob turned. She didn’t move. I pushed off to reach her first, but Diesel grabbed me and shoved me back. He covered my mouth again as though expecting me to scream. I wanted to shout at her to run. Hide. Arm herself.
Fifteen pairs of feet moved quickly. Diesel covered my ears.
Chapter Four:
They came for us the next morning. I barely slept despite how exhausted I felt. Diesel relaxed against the wall after squatting on the balls of his heels for hours. The prisoners were no longer interested in me and none had tried to touch me since.
I was thankful the female prisoner had enough wit about her to fend for herself. Her strength and good health kept the male prisoners away, but time would wear her down.
Six rows of lights flicked on above our heads, flooding the bunker in white. As though they burnt beneath the fluorescent lights, many of the prisoners buried their heads into the palms and pressed themselves against the corners.
Two armed men climbed down the hatch. They approached us and then knelt down and grabbed Diesel.
They lifted him up and removed the muzzle from around his head. Diesel craned his neck left and right, working out the kinks in his jaw. As he lifted his chin, the red collar popped against the purple rings on his neck. To hear his voice surprised me after sitting with him in silence for so long.
“You were meant to test the codes hours ago!”
One of the armed men shrugged. “We had other issues. Let’s go, now. They’re waiting.”
Diesel turned and spoke to me just as roughly. “Get up. We’re leaving.” As he reached down to help me stand, one of the men knocked his hand back.
“Don’t try to be smart. Our orders are only for you.”
“This one belongs to me.”
“You don’t own your own shit anymore, boy.” He jabbed Diesel in the chest with his finger.
Diesel’s body went chillingly still. He had looked at me like that once, when I had smacked him over the head with a wrench and ran. I shivered at the memory of it. The man shuffled back, unimpressed with the stare down.
“Snarl at me all you want. Your title means jack all now. There are no dogs here to fill your pack.”
The larger of the men then looked at me, at my collar. “What’s the big deal about this one? She’s only sex meat.”
Diesel threw his punch. It was fast and violent. As the thumping crack connected with the man’s jaw, blood spurted out, following the momentum of Diesel’s swing.
The second man rammed the stock end of his gun into Diesel’s ribs. Diesel stumbled and caught himself on the wall, holding his stomach.
Even as he buckled over, Diesel still managed to curl his voice. “Once I’m out, I am going to ram that gun down your throat.”
“You can go fuck yourself!” The man checked his busted lip for blood before pointing the gun at my head. I pressed against the wall. “I don’t care who she belongs to. She’s dog food now.”
“Wait, he’s right. I’m valuable.” I held my hands up, palms exposed. “Scan me and you’ll see.”
Diesel swung back around as though I had just revealed explosives under my shirt.
“What?” The man with the bleeding lip laughed. “Scan you? Are you some Elite’s secret lover?” He turned to Diesel. “Are you
fucking an Elite’s bitch?”
“How could you possibly be of any use to us?” The other asked over the taunting.
I licked my lips, unable to understand the horrified scowl that tightened Diesel’s face. “I don’t have a soul imprint.”
The plan, though however poorly improvised, had worked. I was taken out of the bunker with Diesel and dragged down the halls. They shoved us inside a large room half lit where Diesel’s knees were kicked out from beneath him. He fell hard, unable to catch himself as the guard yanked his collar back and forced his arms behind his head. He pressed a gun into the back of Diesel’s skull, pushing him forward.
Another guard grabbed me and shoved me down, my knees slamming into the concrete. He forced my arms behind my head, where I, too, felt the cold muzzle of a gun.
As we knelt, our bodies positioned for an execution, I heard the rusty squeak of robotic limbs moving in the shadows in front of us. Beyond the darkness a machine approached. Unlike Sweepers, who were built like lanky humans, their outer armour smoothed and polished over the interconnecting wirings, this robot could be considered naked. It was skinny, smaller and less fluid in its movements than the Elite’s robots, making me think this one was homemade. The only casings it had was over its face, chest and groin area. Across its smooth face a smile had been shrewdly drawn beneath two blinking red eyes.
The robot stopped within a meter of reaching us. No one spoke or moved. If not for the uncomfortable reminder of the gun to my scalp, I would have thought we were alone.
“Who is the girl?” a feminine voice asked beyond the shadowy wall.
“A slave. Claims to be valuable,” the man answered behind me.
“Stand.”
The guard removed the gun from behind my head and forced me to stand. Promptly, the gun returned, finding the sore spot to jab.
I looked out into the thick of the shade into nothingness.
“She might be involved with the Elites,” the guard went on to explain. The robot’s red eyes seemed to focus on me and narrowed at the drop of the word Elite.
“You don’t get to decide who is taken out of the bunker, Daniel.”
I heard the gunshot a moment before heat scorched past my cheeks. I snapped my shoulders to my ears. The thump of the body crashing to the floor behind me was almost lost to the ringing echo of the gunshot. I couldn’t smell the blood but I felt it splatter my neck. Smokey fingers curled out of the robot’s guns barrel.
The robot then shifted the inch it required so that its next shot aligned with my forehead.
My fingernails cut into my palms. Suddenly, the machine’s scribbled smile felt more human.
“The next time anyone feels like showing off, don’t.” Her voice lectured the remaining guard before directing it at me. “How are you valuable to us?”
My mouth felt dry as though I was still submerged in the salty sea. Suffocation tightened. It took me two seconds to realise I was still holding my breath. I let it go. “I don’t have a soul imprint.”
There was a moment of silent consideration. “So, you are a transplant?” The robot’s gun clicked as it ready the trigger.
I slammed my eyes closed as I heard Diesel’s voice.
“Don’t shoot.”
“This doesn’t involve you,” said a male voice.
“Take her back to the bunker.” I glanced at Diesel. His face was hard, sculpted out of stone. My heart fluttered in horror. I’d rather be shot than taken back there. “She’s my experiment—”
“Yours?”
“She’s not worth your time—”
“The slave isn’t yours.” The voice repeated as though his point was missed. “Things have changed since the rein of the Mad Dogs.”
“I’m not here to challenge you,” Diesel growled.
“No?” The female laughed. “Yet, the moment you walked in, you made demands. You threatened us.”
“You know who I am well enough to understand I am serious when I say not to kill her. Send her back and I will explain everything.”
“No.” A third voice, an old withered voice that crooked from the back of his throat, called out. “Let’s see what these eyes tell us.”
A harsh flash crossed the room in a snapshot. I wasn’t expecting it, even though I should have. It burnt a spot over my vision. The robot eyes faded from bright red into a softer, cooling amber. Its internal engine purred when the crack of a gunshot cut through the still room. The robot’s head spun, loose on its neck.
Its beeping signalled an error as its voice, ripped with static, dulled into death. “Identification inva—” A second shot silenced it before it could finish. There was a brief struggle beside me before five to six more shots were fired. Blood gurgled as a body dropped. Red splattered across the ground. I turned to see the remaining guard dead, the gun rammed down his throat and unloaded so splinters of skull, skin and white, shattered teeth broke through the back of his head.
Diesel slowly stood, but his face remained turned away. The lights at the back shuttered on, revealing two other armed robots and three people watching on lounge chairs. The only woman of the group stood, her smile pulling tight on her left side.
“That was my favourite machine.”
I squinted against the sharp light. She approached calmly but slowed before reaching us.
A clammy hand grabbed my hair at the back of my neck. It yanked me down and then forward, pulling me off balance.
“Here, Filip.” Diesel lurched me toward her. I hit the ground by the woman’s feet. “Accept it as my apology for the bot.”
I swivelled around to look back at him, stunned by the gesture. Diesel didn’t look at me, but there was a familiar strained smile on his face, one he used to wear at Alpha.
She grinned. “I haven’t gone by that name in a long time. It’s Miranda now. Welcome back, Krane.”
Chapter Five:
At first I thought I was going to be thrown back into the bunker, per Diesel’s request, but instead the woman called Miranda ordered me to be taken to a different part of the station. The tunnels, made of grey stone, were long and cold. The identical walls and lack of personal décor emptied the building of life. I would have thought it was vacant if it weren’t for the army of psychopaths manning the halls. The coagulated heat and fumes thickened the air like frothy soup. The further we walked the less the intoxicating smell assaulted my nose. An earthier smell seeped in through the walls and floor. I even felt a draft.
The room they left me in looked like the ugly aunt that had one too many facelifts. Colours clashed in a poorly matched design. The walls were painted grey and white, the crème carpet ran from the threshold into the back corner. Green, brown, white and orange furniture sat around a small kitchen and lounge. It felt like any small apartment you could find in the city, liveable for a couple or small family. But the tower of dishes in the sink made it looked like at least five people lived here, all with a phobia to cleaning.
I couldn’t stop myself from thinking of Diesel. I couldn’t stop the image of that smile, his cold eyes, his teeth barred. The Diesel that rested his forehead into my shoulder had snapped back inside his own body. It was as though all we had gone through had disintegrated into a hazy dream, and all it left was tingles.
My knuckles tightened over my knees. He was known here, an ex-leader. I knew he was a terrorist and belonged to the Mad Dogs group, but I didn’t know he was the mastermind behind the criminal ring. I raked my memory for the name she called him before I was yanked from the room. Cane? No, something like Krane? My head lowered, exhausted. Was I even safe here? I don’t think I’ve had that many guns pointed at my head in the last twenty-four hours than I have in my entire life.
I started to pull on my memories of him, of all of our past interactions. I watched them carefully, studying every tilt, every look and pursed lip that told me one thing but may have meant something else. That could give me any indication as to what’s happening inside his head. I won’t let you become my biggest
regret. I won’t let this feeling go. Those were the words he said to me, but I couldn’t make sense of them. Everything he said was coded. Every smile hid a snarl. Every look shielded a glare. I wanted to know what churned his thoughts into the fragmented clock that was his mind. I remembered the touch of his hands, soft and concerned as he eased me out of the car, to how he grabbed me and threw me like I was nothing.
The door opened and I jumped to a stand. A figure walked in and eased the door closed. Despite my uncertainties, I was relieved it was Diesel. However, his last words stung. He didn’t speak but grabbed me roughly. He walked me backward and shoved me up against the wall onto my tippy toes.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Despite the tremor of his breath, his eyes hardened. “Do you want to be ripped apart? You were going to fucking tell them about your eyes? They don’t get to know that about you. Your eyes are our secret!” His scowl pulled his mouth tight, forming lines. He let me go and stepped back. “Think next time, for fucks sake!”
My nerves rattled. “I did what I had to do! What the hell was your big plan, huh? Glare furiously at them until they gave in?”
He jabbed an accusing finger in my direction. “I had it handled.”
Rage strained my voice. “You told them to send me back to the bunker! They were going to kill me in there! Or fucking worse! Didn’t you think of that?”
“Fucking hell, Nadia.” He whispered my name, exhausted. Black eyes I had grown accustomed to seeing fury had reddened with something else. An emotion he quickly blinked away. “Just listen for once. There are no Mad Dogs left. We’re all alone here.”
“Didn’t you consider that was a possibility before? What does that mean now? Are we going to die here?”
“I don’t know. Maybe… Just stay out of sight and don’t do anything stupid. You have to be useful to Miranda. She’s the only one not insane enough to pluck your eyes out.”
Soul Finder (The Immortal Gene Book 2) Page 3
