Sam ran her hands over her face to pull herself back into the present and let her eyes adjust to the light. Jennings rocked back on his feet and rubbed the back of his scrawny neck. His hands were big, like he was on the verge of growing into his gangly limbs. He’d just told her he needed to escort her to the boss. The boss, the one who ran this hell. And then he’d bound her wrists together.
“So about the food,” Sam started, her voice hushed.
Jennings cleared his throat. “I tried to get you some, but couldn’t. I know I promised you food and I really did try, but it didn’t happen. Sorry. I just couldn’t get out of my duties. I know you must be hungry. I know I’d be hungry. I’ll find a way to make it up to you. Somehow.”
She stared at him, watching the red creep across his face. If he hadn’t gotten the food for her, who had? But she said, “It’s okay. I’m fine.”
And she was. Not in the way he thought, though.
“You have to pretend like I’m not on your side,” he continued. “If you want to escape, you can’t let anyone know.”
Sam hadn’t intended to, but he’d said we before.
“Don’t you have help?” A certain pair of blue eyes came to mind. She frowned.
Jennings nodded, almost violently. “Oh, yes. But not here. Everyone else is on the outside. I’ll bring you to them. You’ll see.”
If Jennings was working alone, what was Coop up to? He’d been the one to bring her water, but that didn’t mean he was responsible for the food.
A chill raced through her body. What if it had been Reed? He could have drugged the food. And she’d fallen asleep fast after the food, faster than normal.
But she hadn't forgotten anything. It couldn't be whatever was in the vial, the serum that stole her memories. He could have poisoned her and she wouldn't even know until she dropped dead.
"You have to be good with the boss," Jennings whispered. "You can't harass him like you do with Captain Reed. The boss thinks you have answers for him, more than the others. Your family’s powerful."
“But I don’t remember anything.” A lie. But they’d been using something to repress her memories. They couldn’t take them and expect her to spill.
Jennings dodged the comment. "You're looking better."
Sam raised an eyebrow. For telling her not to act like they were together, Jennings was doing a terrible job at it. She held her tongue.
"Are you sleeping better? The bags under your eyes aren't as bad."
She shrugged. The food and sleep had something to do with it and though she told herself not to say anything, she found herself nodding in agreement.
"I really hope you are," he said. "You looked terrible before."
Sam frowned. "Well, I am feeling—" She shut her mouth. Why did she have the urge to tell him everything?
He bumped her with his shoulder. "You're feeling what?"
"Better." The word was out before she could stop it.
No. The food had been drugged. She forced herself to ask, "Jennings, do you have—do you have truth serum?"
She should have made the connection before. His eyes widened. "Oh. No. I don’t have truth serum. But. Ooh. You mean the compound. Yes. Now that I think about it, Reed was just talking about something he could use on the memory-bringers." He paused. "Oh. That's you, isn't it? I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't know."
She lifted her bound wrists and laid a hand on his arm. "It's okay. Not your fault."
"Don't touch me," he hissed. "No one can know I'm helping you."
She blinked.
"I'm sorry," he continued. "I'm just under so much pressure, between you and trying not to get caught. I'm a little on edge."
Obviously. Sam let her arms dangle. They traveled further toward the heart of the T, closer to where she thought the control room was.
Where Coop was.
She wouldn’t think of him. He could have given her the poisoned food too. He’d sneaked into her holding cell to give her water. If anyone, he was the most likely culprit. He’d done it before.
"We're almost there. So you know, Reed will be there too. I have to stay outside, so I can't protect you or anything. But it'll be you and the boss and Reed. Just don't piss them off."
"I won't," she promised. Not on purpose.
He nodded. "Good. Good." They turned a corner. "We're here."
Gray walls. Gray tiles. Nothing around the door to indicate what it was. She stared. How did anyone get around this place? It was impossible to know which doors were which. Jennings opened the door and pushed her through, not gently. Sam stumbled into the room.
A condescending laugh echoed. "Oh, the memory-bringer has deigned to grace us with her presence. Fantastic. Now we can get started. Smith?" Reed stood off to her left, leaning against the wall. A desk took up the middle with a distinguished man—thin, wiry, and in his late forties or early fifties—sitting behind it. The boss. Smith. The person in charge of the Northern Alliance Betterment Society’s compound.
Possibly in charge of all the Hunters.
He looked no different than the men from her community. It was difficult to comprehend that this was the person responsible for so much suffering. She swayed on her feet.
"Sit down," Smith barked.
She tripped over her feet and crossed to one of the chairs on the other side of the desk. Reed pushed off the wall and sat next to her. She clumsily dragged her chair away from him.
"I trust you're feeling well?" Smith sounded like she’d dropped in for a social call, not as though she'd been forcibly escorted from her holding cell and deposited here.
She settled her hands in her lap and nodded. "Yes, I'm feeling well." She bit the inside of her cheek. No. That wasn’t what she wanted to say. "As well as I can be considering you have me locked up," she added.
"Is this normal?" Smith asked, his gaze swinging to Reed.
She looked at Reed to find him studying her. "She seems mouthier than she should be."
"Hmm." Smith looked back at her and steepled his fingers. "Tell me, do you know why you're here?"
"Because—" She stopped, battling the urge to tell him what she knew about the testing—what Reed had told her. Her throat worked. She could stick to the truth. "Because you kidnapped and imprisoned me."
His eyebrow rose and he looked briefly at Reed before turning back to her. "What do you remember?"
She bit the inside of her cheek, letting the metallic taste of her blood fill her mouth and keep her focused. Sam gave another bare truth. "That I don't belong here. This is not my home."
Smith swung his gaze back to Reed, his eyes narrowed. "I thought you said we'd get answers from her."
"The truth serum should counteract anything else we’ve given her and force any latent memories to the surface. That's what the scientists told me, sir." He sounded frustrated.
"Did you put it in her water as the instructions stated?"
Reed visibly clenched his jaw. "Of course. I delivered the water to her cell myself."
But the food?
Smith turned back to her. "Has your uncle been planning attacks against us?"
“I don’t know.” One answer she didn’t have to struggle with. It was possible, but she wouldn’t know anything until the plans were set. Because she hadn’t officially taken over for her grandma, Sam was usually left out of major planning.
"I have an inside source that says your grandma’s dead. Is that true?”
Sam blinked at the question. Something niggled at the back of her mind, but she couldn’t quite place it. Dead? It didn’t seem right. "I-I don't know."
Smith's gaze sharpened. "How do you not know? She was either alive or dead when you were kidnapped. Where’s your mother?"
“My mother? But she’s not Gifted.” The words popped out before she could stop them.
Smith smiled. “She’s still an important member in your elder system. Where is she?”
Sam dropped her head. Her mother had been at her grandma’s house when Sam had been taken, but her mo
ther could be anywhere now. She had a tendency of disappearing for days at a time; it was the reason her grandma had given her mother limited responsibilities at their office. She didn’t trust her daughter.
Why Smith thought her mother or her mother’s location could provide the Hunters with any information, she had no idea.
"My memories are gone."
Smith made an exasperated noise and turned to Reed. "This shouldn’t be an issue. How much of the memory serum did you give her?"
Reed hesitated. "I’m not exactly sure. She was causing trouble and it was the best way to keep her in line."
Smith leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin. "I have a report here,” he said, indicating his desk, “that says you gave her too much."
Reed jerked himself straight and swiped his hand through his hair. "But sir—"
"Enough.” Smith stood and pointed at the door. “Return her to the cell.”
Reed’s jaw twitched as he rose. “If you’d just allow me, I’m sure I could get her to talk.”
“Captain Reed. Your heavy-handedness is what’s left us in this position. We can’t afford to let you mess this up further. It’s imperative we find what she knows and confirm it with our sources.”
“Rocky has rocks for brains,” Sam murmured.
Smith snapped to attention. “What did you say?”
Reed backhanded Sam before she could work out a denial. Cupping her cheek, she stared at the flush spreading across his face. She settled her bound hands in her lap again and refused to speak.
Smith gritted his teeth. “Reed, bring in Jennings, then wait in room A for me.”
Reed paled, but exited.
Smith sat and leaned back. “Will you be alright?”
The abrupt shift from angry to pleasant made her suspicious. “Reed’s done worse.”
“You won’t have to deal with him anymore.” Smith leaned forward and spread his hands. “Now while I appreciate your willingness to protect your people, you must understand that by helping us, you can help your friend.”
He meant Amy. “Even if I wanted to help you, I already told you: I don’t remember anything.”
“So you’ve said.” He raised an eyebrow. “However, I must tell you that you possess information that would help us avoid unnecessary deaths of the Gifted. Surely you want that.”
Sam snorted. “You’re already testing on us needlessly. You’ve imprisoned me. I don’t think any information I provide is going to change that. You won’t stop.”
“Our success is inevitable.” He shrugged. “A peaceful surrender is in your best interest.”
She didn’t believe that for a second. “No.”
“Suit yourself. Jennings?”
“S-sir?”
Sam jumped. He had entered the room without her notice.
“She’s unwilling to help us. Return her to her cell.”
Jennings grabbed her by the arm and hauled her up. "Come on. Back to your kennel where you belong."
She stumbled. Jennings sounded like Reed. He pulled her out of the room and whispered, “Just an act. Don’t worry.”
Sam nodded absently, more concerned with the memory bubbling up inside her. She’d had better control of it before. Whatever they’d given must be interfering with her ability to control the energy. Tremors began in her arms and spread inward to her core.
“I-I don’t feel so good,” she mumbled, pitching forward. As Jennings picked her up, she gave into the memory.
Sam paused at the closed door to her mother’s office, and the books in her arms wobbled a moment before she got them under control. She had been on her way back from retrieving a few memory-bringer reference books from the library for her grandma, whose office was next door. Normally, Sam sailed past her mother’s office without notice—her mother didn’t encourage visits—but something made her stop.
Raised voices.
She inched closer and pressed her ear to the door. The books swayed precariously, but Sam shifted and managed to bring them back into alignment. Her arms burned from carrying them, but she feared making a noise if she put them down.
“Stop training Sam. She’s too young for all your demands.” Her mother. Sam arched an eyebrow.
“Your motherly concern is touching, Katherine, but we both know my demands on Samara have nothing to do with this. She’s old enough and perfectly capable of handling the stress.” Her grandma had always been more like a mother than her own.
Her mother made a disgusted noise. “It’s my right, you know. To become an elder.”
“The right belongs to those with Gifted abilities.” Her grandma sounded resigned, like she did when Sam begged to have her training accelerated. It must have been an old argument. “And you weren’t born with them.”
“That isn’t fair. I know this community.”
“Even if you were a memory-bringer, Samara is more suited for the task than you.”
“She’s my daughter and I’ll say what she can and can’t do. I won’t allow her to continue.”
“It’s not open for—”
The books escaped Sam’s arms and crashed onto the floor, interrupting whatever her grandma said.
The door flew open. Her mother’s face was flushed, eyes angry. “What are you doing here, Sam?”
Sam peeked around her mother to her grandma. Unlike her mother, her grandma looked calm and in control. Her grandma smiled. “She brought me the books I requested.”
Her mother wheeled around at her grandma. “She was eavesdropping.”
One shoulder went up. “She has the right to be a part of the conversation.”
“I-I,” Sam started, unsure. She looked from her grandma to her mother. Something in her mother’s expression kept her quiet.
“How would you like to spend more time with your friends?” her mother asked, speaking to her as though she were a child.
And she didn’t really have any friends. Which her mother would know if she bothered to pay attention.
“I like spending time with Grandma.”
Her mom rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Behave for your grandma, I’ll be gone for a few days.”
She left before Sam could say goodbye.
Her grandma stood, turned off the light, and helped Sam gather the books from the floor. “Your mom means well.”
Sam put her head down, shielding her face behind her hair. Her grandma was trying to make her feel better, but she knew her mother too well to believe it.
Her grandma sighed. “I’m giving your mom a position as a community liaison. She’ll help us be more efficient, and I’ll continue training you as I have.”
She shivered as she came back to herself. How old had she been in that memory? Twelve or thirteen. The community liaison position had pacified her mother; it gave her the power she’d wanted. But it hadn’t changed their relationship. Hard to love the child who had the abilities you were born without.
Sam prowled her cell, finding nothing: no food or water. Kicking the air in frustration, she took another circuit around the space. Before she’d been captured, she’d attended a community meeting her mother had called.
That was after Amy’s parents had been taken by the Hunters and Amy had come to stay with them. Sam scowled. Her mother had always liked Amy—though she had memory-bringer energy, Amy was too weak to have memories. It was something they had in common.
Her mother had warned the community that the Hunters grew stronger and more violent, and that soon there would be a war. The memory-bringers had lived with the Hunters for so long that no one took her seriously, even as they instituted curfews and patrols. War was a long way off from the isolated kidnappings that steadily crept closer.
Her mother was right. There’d be a war. Because Sam would be the one to start it.
But she’d accomplish nothing in her cell. On her next circuit, she stopped at the door and tested the handle. Still locked. She rested her head against the door, opening her mind and letting it drift. It was how her gra
ndma had taught her to allow her brain to make connections she wouldn’t normally make on her own.
The jingle of keys and the sound of the lock being opened pulled her out of her trance. She bounced back and off to the side, away from the light that would stream into the cell.
A bundle rolled in.
Then the door slammed shut and the lock clicked back in place.
She stayed rooted. The door closed before she could identify the bundle. Barely able to see its outline, she took a step closer. And another step. Stretching her leg, she poked it with her toes. It gave way easily. Material of some sort.
She nudged it with her foot. What could it be? As it rolled, something crinkled. Odd. She froze and waited. Nothing arrived in her cell without consequences. A few deep breaths later, Sam gathered enough courage to kneel down and pick it up. Definitely material of some kind. Soft, like it could slip through her fingers. But material for what? She rolled the bundle around until she found what had crinkled. Paper.
Why would there be paper on the bundle? She couldn’t pop on the overhead light and check it out. But she did have light coming underneath the door and it would have to be enough.
Sam walked on her knees to the door and angled the paper to the light. Squinting her eyes, she leaned forward.
This body suit will render you invisible to the cameras. Wait for me to knock three times. We’ll get you out of here. Jennings.
Invisible to the cameras? She snorted and unrolled the bundle. It sounded unreal. Would it be enough? She was no illusionist. But if this was something the illusionists created…
No decent choice existed. She risked trusting Jennings or being stuck until she figured her own way out.
She unzipped the body suit, stepping in. It was snug over her clothes. She wiggled until she pulled it on all the way and zipped herself in.
Once she’d tugged the hood up, she remembered Jennings had failed to tell her when he’d knock. She cursed. If someone other than Jennings came by, they’d discover her. And it’d be obvious she was up to something.
But with the suit already on, she’d made her choice. She stared at the door, willing Jennings to come by and knock. She waited. Tapped her foot. Slid back down to the floor to rest. Removed the hood. Drifted.
Sam jerked to attention when the lock clicked and echoed. Her heart raced and she drew further into the room. She held her breath, waiting.
Three short knocks. Knock. Knock. Knock.
Her breath whooshed out. She stood up, her body shaky as she approached the door. Pausing with her hand on the handle, she took a deep breath. This was it. Hope surged, welling in her eyes.
A desperate sound escaped her, somewhere between a gasp and a sob. She opened the door to a smiling Jennings.
“It fits! I’m so glad.”
She grinned.
“You have to put the hood on,” he explained, “for it to fully work. The hood engages—or stops—the invisibility. Once you put the hood on, no one will be able to see you.”
“Even with my face out?”
He nodded.
“Okay,” she said, reaching for the hood.
He grabbed her arm. “Wait. If you put it on, I won’t be able to see you. Can you put the hood on while I hang onto you?”
“I—sure.” She pulled at it again, feeling awkward with Jennings’s hand on her arm. Once she’d gotten the hood on, though, he pulled her into the hall. For the first time, she got a good look at the body suit. It was gray, like the walls and tiles, making her melt into the surroundings. Her jaw dropped.
“This isn’t just a body suit, is it?” She looked at him.
“Nope. It’s something the Northern Alliance Betterment Society created. I stole it.” Pride rang in his voice. “It’s cool, isn’t it? My hand looks like it’s wrapped around a gray wall even though you can’t wrap your hand around a wall. If you stood against the wall and didn’t move, people would pass right by you.”
Sam nodded absently, his words echoing in her head—something the Northern Alliance Betterment Society created. She examined the suit again. If this was something they created, it meant the Hunters had found a way to steal the illusionists’ technology and use it against them. This was bad.
Her grin faded.
Had someone’s abilities been ripped from them so she could escape? Her stomach turned and she stumbled.
“Go.” Jennings pushed her. Sam hadn’t regained her footing and pitched forward, her feet making an audible sound. “Oh. Sorry. I—that was too hard, wasn’t it? I’m sorry. I couldn’t see you. But I have to finish my rounds. They’ll be looking for my report and I have to do that. But go that way.” He pointed to his right. “Stop at the room on your left before the control room. Wait for me inside. Be quiet. No one should be around, but if you see someone, freeze. Don’t move. Let them pass and don’t get discovered. I can’t get you out of here if you’re discovered.”
She nodded before remembering he couldn’t see her. “Okay.”
But he’d already turned away from her, continuing down the hall and disappearing into another room. She was alone. For a moment, she stood and gathered her courage.
Cameras are everywhere.
Sam glanced up, following the sides until she found a camera. If the body suit worked, the cameras would be the real test. Jennings hadn’t been able to see her, but he could have faked it. Or the body suit only lasted so long.
Coop had told her someone was always watching. If they saw her, the camera would follow. Sam took a step forward.
Nothing happened.
She took five large strides down the hallway, out of the line of sight for the first camera and into the path of a second.
Nothing.
It worked. She didn’t waste any more time. Her feet silent against the floor, she moved cautiously. Even the illusionists had limits to their energy. Moving too fast could catch the eye of someone who was watching for movement.
Like Coop.
She looked up at the cameras again, wondering if he was in the control room, keeping an eye on the compound. Watching over everything. Everyone. She shook her head. He couldn’t be there all the time. He could be off duty today. She’d probably never see him again.
But you’ll just have to wait to find out.
And never learn why he’d helped her. Sam ignored the following pang in her chest. Fear. It was fear. She shook herself. She had to stay alert. Trailing her fingers on the wall, she wondered where she was.
Every previous trip down these hallways she’d been on edge, her senses heightened. But she hadn’t been focused on her surroundings; she’d been too aware of the punishing grip of Reed’s hand around her arm, his glee at whatever he was going to torture her with next.
Hatred for him pulsed around the edges of her consciousness. The hatred built, overtaking her ability to control the memory. She tripped over her feet. It was a strong memory. She stopped, keeping her hand on the wall. She sank to her knees, wrapping her arms around her head.
The shaking began, wild and uncontrollable.
Chapter Seven
Elusive Memories (The Hunted #1) Page 11