can
leave your phone number with Charlotte—the girl at the door? The
one in the red corset. She’s handling all of that sort of stuff for
me tonight. If I keep my own phone, I always lose it. Anyway, you
give her your number, and I’ll call you.”
“Um, okay.” Why was he taking charge like this? This
was my plan.
“Great,” he said. “Well, now I really am getting
bored. There are bare tits downstairs, and I want to look at them.
So… go away.”
LEIGH
“Face the wall and put your hands against it,” rang
out a voice from behind the door.
Griffin, Silas, and I all exchanged a glance. This
was the first time they’d spoken to us. Whenever they brought food,
they didn’t talk. They just slid it in through a slot under the
door. The food wasn’t good. It was bland and strange. Some sort of
tasteless mush—a kind of grainy slop. It reminded me of gruel from Oliver Twist . But unlike Oliver, I hadn’t gotten so hungry
that I was asking for more of the stuff.
“Let’s go,” said the voice.
Silas, who’d been lounging against the wall next to
one of the cots, got to his feet. “Yeah, what if we don’t?”
The door opened a crack. There was a gunshot. The
door pulled shut.
Silas’ head jerked backwards. He crumpled to the
floor, lifeless.
Griffin groaned. “We might as well do what they say.
If we keep going dark over and over, it will weaken us.”
I got up and faced the wall. I put my hands over my
head, palms flat against the wall. Griffin did the same thing,
standing next to me.
I could hear the door opening.
I peered over my shoulder. Knox hadn’t gotten up. He
wasn’t facing the wall. He was slumped in a heap, his eyes glassy.
I saw the guards march over to him.
One of them saw me watching.
“Face the wall,” he snapped.
I turned around.
Behind me, I heard the sounds of them hoisting Knox
up. They were dragging him across the floor. Then the door opened
and closed.
I peeked around again. The guards were gone, and so
was Knox. I relaxed, moving away from the wall. “Oh my God, what
are they doing to him?”
Griffin put his arms around me. “Hey, we’re going to
figure out a way out of this.”
I looked up at him. “How?”
He didn’t say anything.
I eased out of his grasp and walked over to the place
where Knox had been sitting. “There’s something wrong with
him.”
Griffin hadn’t spent much time trying to talk to
Knox. Silas had gone over to him at one point, attempted a
conversation. But when nothing had really come of it, he’d given
up. Griffin and I had watched their exchange, but hadn’t said
anything. So, we hadn’t discussed Knox’s mental state at all. The
guys had been too busy worrying about Sloane and Christa, who they
thought were likely to appear in this room with us at any
minute.
I tried to assure them that Sloane could take care of
herself. After they told me how they’d found me, I said that I was
sure Sloane was working on a way to get us out of there. I found it
reassuring, but the guys were both too nervous.
Griffin dragged his toe against the floor. “Yeah, I
guess it was too much to hope that he was staying quiet because he
had a grudge against me.”
“No, he’s not himself. They’re doing something to
him.”
“But what?” He looked around the room as if he was
going to find an answer in the ceiling.
“What did Sloane say about this lab place?” I said.
“What kind of stuff do they make?”
“She said the memory-loss stuff,” said Griffin. “You
remember? At Op Wraith, we injected French with it? And…”
And my father.
But later, I’d accidentally killed my father, and we
didn’t talk about that. It wasn’t as if my father hadn’t deserved
it. Near as I could tell, all the people I’d killed had deserved
it. But it was funny how that didn’t make me feel better about it.
I’d had to accept that about myself—that I was capable of murder,
of torture, of taking pleasure in causing
leave your phone number with Charlotte—the girl at the door? The
one in the red corset. She’s handling all of that sort of stuff for
me tonight. If I keep my own phone, I always lose it. Anyway, you
give her your number, and I’ll call you.”
“Um, okay.” Why was he taking charge like this? This
was my plan.
“Great,” he said. “Well, now I really am getting
bored. There are bare tits downstairs, and I want to look at them.
So… go away.”
LEIGH
“Face the wall and put your hands against it,” rang
out a voice from behind the door.
Griffin, Silas, and I all exchanged a glance. This
was the first time they’d spoken to us. Whenever they brought food,
they didn’t talk. They just slid it in through a slot under the
door. The food wasn’t good. It was bland and strange. Some sort of
tasteless mush—a kind of grainy slop. It reminded me of gruel from Oliver Twist . But unlike Oliver, I hadn’t gotten so hungry
that I was asking for more of the stuff.
“Let’s go,” said the voice.
Silas, who’d been lounging against the wall next to
one of the cots, got to his feet. “Yeah, what if we don’t?”
The door opened a crack. There was a gunshot. The
door pulled shut.
Silas’ head jerked backwards. He crumpled to the
floor, lifeless.
Griffin groaned. “We might as well do what they say.
If we keep going dark over and over, it will weaken us.”
I got up and faced the wall. I put my hands over my
head, palms flat against the wall. Griffin did the same thing,
standing next to me.
I could hear the door opening.
I peered over my shoulder. Knox hadn’t gotten up. He
wasn’t facing the wall. He was slumped in a heap, his eyes glassy.
I saw the guards march over to him.
One of them saw me watching.
“Face the wall,” he snapped.
I turned around.
Behind me, I heard the sounds of them hoisting Knox
up. They were dragging him across the floor. Then the door opened
and closed.
I peeked around again. The guards were gone, and so
was Knox. I relaxed, moving away from the wall. “Oh my God, what
are they doing to him?”
Griffin put his arms around me. “Hey, we’re going to
figure out a way out of this.”
I looked up at him. “How?”
He didn’t say anything.
I eased out of his grasp and walked over to the place
where Knox had been sitting. “There’s something wrong with
him.”
Griffin hadn’t spent much time trying to talk to
Knox. Silas had gone over to him at one point, attempted a
conversation. But when nothing had really come of it, he’d given
up. Griffin and I had watched their exchange, but hadn’t said
anything. So, we hadn’t discussed Knox’s mental state at all. The
guys had been too busy worrying about Sloane and Christa, who they
thought were likely to appear in this room with us at any
minute.
I tried to assure them that Sloane could take care of
herself. After they told me how they’d found me, I said that I was
sure Sloane was working on a way to get us out of there. I found it
reassuring, but the guys were both too nervous.
Griffin dragged his toe against the floor. “Yeah, I
guess it was too much to hope that he was staying quiet because he
had a grudge against me.”
“No, he’s not himself. They’re doing something to
him.”
“But what?” He looked around the room as if he was
going to find an answer in the ceiling.
“What did Sloane say about this lab place?” I said.
“What kind of stuff do they make?”
“She said the memory-loss stuff,” said Griffin. “You
remember? At Op Wraith, we injected French with it? And…”
And my father.
But later, I’d accidentally killed my father, and we
didn’t talk about that. It wasn’t as if my father hadn’t deserved
it. Near as I could tell, all the people I’d killed had deserved
it. But it was funny how that didn’t make me feel better about it.
I’d had to accept that about myself—that I was capable of murder,
of torture, of taking pleasure in causing
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