But to get out of here I need to move.
I walk faster without Megs, but not fast enough. The light is fading and the rain falling, and anything I don’t get now will be lost by morning. Slipping and sliding on the loose rock, I grab my water and pack and then find hers. Arm muscles trembling from the effort, I take it back to Megs in one trip. She hasn’t moved from the spot I left her, but she’s still breathing. I roll up my spare T-shirt and nestle it under her head.
What was that?
It’s not a noise that alerts me to the fact that Megs and I are no longer alone, but a flash of gray. Hidden in the shadows of the cliff, a still and silent Megs at my side, I freeze.
I blink, trying to clear the grit from my eyes and see better through the darkness. My gaze fixes on the entry to the ravine where I’m sure something moved.
Chapter Fifteen
[Asher]
Davyd holds up his hands protecting himself from an imminent blow. “Give me a chance to explain.”
“Why should I?” I shout.
He waits.
For all my bravado I hold my tongue and do as he’s asked, dropping my clenched fist back to my side. I have no choice but to listen.
I need him. The realization is nearly worse than the thing around my wrist. I need him to escape. I can’t imagine I’ll be able to walk out of here with Rael. Even if I managed to incapacitate Davyd, and I’d enjoy the challenge right about now, there are other guards, and I’d be stumbling through their stronghold with no idea of how to get out.
Without Davyd I’d take my chances and attempt something, but it would be insanity to ignore his inside knowledge. Even if it locks me into a prison of need.
But I have to fight nausea looking at the black loop around my wrist. I try to dig my nails beneath the edge, but it might as well be a part of me. I turn my head away from him and my arm, tasting bile.
“Everyone here has one.” He holds out his wrist, waving it in front of my face. Showing off what I thought was some kind of wristband. “We’re all being tracked, all the time. It’s an extension of the communications system linking each level on the Pelican. Except this one is permanent.”
“You mean you can’t get this off?”
“Not without time and a scalpel. We’re all being tracked, but only in theory. I couldn’t stop them putting it in, but I could make sure you’re not embedded in their network.”
“How?”
“It’s complicated.”
I’m on my feet with my knee threatening his privates before he can finish the word. “Tell. Me.”
He doesn’t struggle, instead speaking fast. “The chip in it is modified. It will show up in their system while you’re here, but as soon as you leave the city it will be as though you disappeared off the planet.” He waves his wrist. “Mine’s the same.”
I can’t imagine Davyd subjecting to being tracked, but if he’s working with the Company as my fear keeps nagging me, he might have changed his priorities. Every time he seems to have betrayed me, he has a logical answer. But there’s another that would explain everything he’s done: he’s working for his father. He’s Company.
“I’m getting pretty tired of having to take your word on things. So far that’s got me captured and fitted with some kind of implant.” I can’t look at the thing. Or at Davyd.
“And put you within reach of your goal.”
“So you say.”
“Poor little Asher,” he sneers. “I bet you’ve been feeling all abused because they ran a few tests on you and now you have this thing on your wrist.”
I wrap my arms around my body. “The torture might have something to do with my lack of happy-go-lucky cheer.”
His gray eyes flash. “You think you’re special?”
There’s something in his voice, something that almost takes my knees out from underneath me when I realize what it is. Below the teasing and the taunting is that one thing I never thought I’d hear from Davyd. Understanding.
“You?”
“I’m from the ship too.”
It’s hard to remember that fact with him standing there in his Company uniform, and his confidence, and the way he swags around this place. “But you’re not …” I hesitate. His relationship with Maston is still confusing. I know one thing though, he has no relation to the man I saw at dinner with Lady. Even before he was broken, Huckle wasn’t man enough to have sired Davyd or Samuai. “You’re not pure.”
“According to our friend the Doctor, it makes me a particularly interesting case for study.”
“Did they use the device on you?”
The corner of his mouth lifts. It’s a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t like to scream and tell. With women or torturers.”
I can’t do this. Sympathy for Davyd is too much for me to take on board now. It’s easier to argue with him and blame him for the black thing crawling like a serpent around my wrist. “I’m going to shower,” I say eventually and return to the cubicle without waiting for his response.
I wash fast, unsure how long I can be away before someone notices, aware I’m naked with Davyd only a few feet away.
When I come out he’s still there, leaning against the wall. Part of me thought he’d have gone, disappeared like a thief in the night, but he stayed. I don’t want to think of how often he does that. How often he’s there when I need him.
He straightens, and I can’t muster the hate I should feel. He’s so strong and his features so perfect, it hurts to look at him. I wish I could stop.
“Feel better?” he asks. He’s looking at me as if he knows how the hot spray on my skin did more than wash away the dirt and grime.
He’s leading into some quip about me wetting myself in the interrogation. The kindness in his voice is a trick to soften me up. I know it, but reminding myself doesn’t stop the simple question warming some of the cold places inside.
“Yes, actually. And yes I smell better, too.”
“Good.” He looks to the door and lowers his voice. “I’ve located the serum we need to control the rage reaction initiated by being off the ship.”
“Why didn’t you mention this earlier?” Hope beats unfamiliar wings in my chest. “Are you sure?”
He shrugs. “A few demonstrations with some of my subordinates and they were rushing to show me the supplies.”
It takes a second and then I understand. He’s talking about his temper. It’s hard to imagine Davyd losing control, but simulating such a thing to get what he wants makes sense.
He’s known all this time. “When can we get it?”
“It’s not simply a matter of walking in there and helping ourselves. Security systems will need disabling. You’ll need to be armed, and we’ll want an exit plan in place. We’re underground after all.”
“Can you handle the security?” I don’t wait for his nod. If he’s telling the truth about the wristband, then he’s hacked into their system. “Then all we need is a diversion.”
“We’re not talking about one or two guards.”
“Something big.” I pace the small area, thinking. Adrenaline and the opportunity to decide my own fate puts a bounce in each step. I’m in control for a change. Like on the ship when we finally rebelled. The ship … “A fire.”
He frowns.
I ignore his skepticism. “Disable the sprinklers at the same time as the cameras, attack the supplies below and watch the Company scurry for the exits.”
“They’re trained for fire alarms.”
“Then make it a freaking catastrophe. All you need is fuel in the air vents and this whole place becomes an oven. They’ll flee, and we can get out of here in the chaos.”
I don’t know if it’s the plan or my lack of squeamishness on the potential loss of life, but there’s respect in his eyes. “It might work.”
“When?” It’s not that I don’t care about any of the difficulties, my muscles tighten at the thought; all I’ve seen in th
is place are people in Company gray, but … “There are people back at camp relying on me.”
“Like Samuai?” His mouth twists.
“Like Kaih, Lady and yes, Samuai. You were there, you saw it. Everyone is on edge. There’s already been one death, I don’t want anymore.”
He looks away. “I said I’d help, and I will, but only because I need a concerted force at my disposal to bring down the Company. None of those people matter to me.”
I don’t have to see his face to hear the lie in his voice. At least, I think I hear it, and I remember the care he took for his mother and that, when it came down to Samuai dying on the water’s edge, he helped me save his life. You can’t fake that. I’m almost sure. Although if anyone can, it’s Davyd.
He strides toward the door. “You have to get back.”
I touch the hard muscle of his shoulder and wait for him to turn. “When?”
“Soon, but I want to give you a day or so to recover.”
“But—”
His thumb on my lips stops me. “I know.” His voice is gentle. “Lost Boy and the others need you, but you’ll be no good to anyone if you collapse on the way back to camp.”
His thumb is still on my mouth. So light it could be a breath, or a kiss.
I should pull away. Make some crack about where his hand has been and whose blood lingers on it. He’s standing so close, I can’t think of anything much. Except him and this moment and his touch. His head lowers until I feel his breath on my skin. Then his thumb slides across my lips and his fingers trail along my cheek, sending tingles skittering in their wake. He pushes a lock of damp, clean hair off my forehead, unnecessary because it’s nowhere near long enough to fall into my eyes. A memory of a touch like this before fights to surface in my mind, but slips away as fast.
I can’t move.
After the interrogation, this gentleness makes no sense to the broken parts of me, but I lean into it. I can’t do anything else.
It’s Davyd. Davyd who told me himself he doesn’t care about anyone. But he’s doing that thing where his eyes on me see deeper than I want. Deeper than anyone should. To the places inside me where strong makes way for weakness and hope steps aside to allow complete despair to have its way. Sees them and doesn’t judge.
I’m sure he’s going to move closer. Kiss me, or hold me, or something.
He doesn’t.
***
I am so sick of being wakened in the middle of the night and having to make decisions half asleep. I think that’s the reason when the door slides open a few hours after I return from showering. I’m already awake. That and the fact that my body clock is beyond messed up thanks to being drugged and tortured. And the small matter of not being able to stop thinking about the moment in the clean room when I was so sure Davyd would kiss me.
I replay it in a loop in my head. Most of the time when I imagine his mouth lowering to touch mine, I then imagine shoving him away. Or better yet, slapping him so hard his eyes water.
But not every time.
The late night visitor is Penny.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” I say softly.
Her mouth doesn’t even twitch. I guess being a prisoner isn’t making me a laugh a minute.
“You have to come with me.”
“Haven’t we already done this tonight? Does Davyd need to accost more people in the shower?”
“This isn’t a game.” Her eyes narrow, highlighting the shadowed, sagging skin beneath them. I don’t think she’s slept since I last saw her when she returned me to my room.
I drag myself to my feet. This situation isn’t Penny’s fault, and she does appear to be an ally, but she’s wearing Company gray and I’m tired of being powerless. “I’m sorry. What’s happening?”
“We’re going to the labs. Now. This might be our only chance.”
“But Davyd said we were waiting.” I scan the ceiling. “There are cameras. Why are you talking about it here?”
“They’ve been disabled. Hurry.”
Either something has happened to change the plan, or Davyd intended this all along and he was messing with me earlier. My excitement at having come up with a plan to escape fades. Was he simply humoring me?
It’s going to the Control Room on the ship all over again, but this time I’ve experienced the enemy and their merciless power. Where once I feared death more than anything, now I know the harm the reconfigured Device can do, and it freezes me in the middle of the Company hospital room. I relive the sensation of my body being out of my control, and the pain. The terrible pain.
Now I know the punishment, can I risk the crime?
“Now, Asher.” The edge in Penny’s voice shocks me back to the present.
My legs can move again, but I detour on my way to the door.
“I have to tell Rael I’m going,” I say when Penny frowns. A faint snore from the neighboring bed punctuates my plea. “It won’t take long.”
“There’s no time.”
I ignore her, leaning over the tiny body, sleeping so peacefully. “Rael.” And then a little louder, with my hand on her shoulder. “Rael.”
“No,” she cries softly. Her hands scramble to fight my hold. “Don’t touch me.” Beads of sweat form on her upper lip. “Don’t.” This last catches on a sob.
I let go, but don’t move away. “It’s me,” I whisper. “It’s Asher.”
Her big eyes blink a few times as she wakes. Recognition sweeps across her features, wiping the panic from them. “What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure, but I have to go with Penny. I didn’t want you to wake up and find me gone.”
“Gone?” Her hand clutches at mine. “Take me with you.”
I look to Penny. “No.”
“But I’ll have time to come back for her, won’t I?”
“I’m here to take you to the labs,” Penny says. “No more.”
I should have spent less time marveling at the softness of Davyd’s touch and more time grilling him on specifics of when we’d escape. I’d like to pretend it was the aftermath of the interrogation and the shock of discovering I have a tracking band embedded in my wrist, but I can’t lie to myself. I simply wasn’t thinking straight.
I let myself be distracted because he said I’d have days before it was time to escape. I wanted the respite.
“I won’t try to escape without you,” I say to Rael. I take a breath and do what I haven’t dared to before now. “I promise.”
Rael turns away, but not before I see the hurt on her face. “Whatever.”
I linger for a moment, but Penny’s huffing by the door decides me. Getting the serum I came here for has to be my priority. I’ll make it up to Rael when we’re out of here, but right now I need to move.
The hallway is empty. We walk without interruption in the opposite direction to where we went before. The fear I expected is missing. Instead excitement fizzes through my veins. At last I’m doing something to achieve my goal. The waiting and the fearing and the terror of more interrogation are in the past. Now, I get the serum and get out of here or die trying.
Simple.
I guess we pass only eleven rooms before Penny stops.
“We’re here already?”
She ignores my question and reads something off the back of her hand. I look up and down the empty hallway. We’ve been so close to the labs all this time.
I glance back at Penny and she’s staring at me, her hand hovering over a small control panel revealed in the wall. Her eyes are assessing.
What does she see? A tall girl in a singlet and jeans, or a genetically modified freak who actually believed she was on a spaceship? I stand straighter as though slouching might somehow affect her decision.
She sighs and types in a code on a small panel.
“I thought the labs would require some fancy DNA scanner to gain access,” I whisper.
Her finger presses the last digit with an air of
finality. “It does.”
It takes a second but then it makes sense. Her hesitation, her resignation. “Then they’ll know it was you.”
“They will.”
She turns away before I can ask more questions and leads the way into a darkened room without turning on the overhead light. Despite the low light, she weaves easily between benches filled with glassware and computer screens. Along the wall are silent instruments, their function impossible to guess from their non-descript beige carcasses. These must be what Doctor used to run the tests on the samples he took from me. We’ve walked into a room full of sleeping monsters, and I don’t dare breathe in case one wakes.
I follow a few feet behind Penny, trying to avoid knocking anything that might smash at my feet and raise the alarm. There’s a low flame still burning below a closed glass container. Inside a thick, brown fluid leaps and bubbles. As I stare, it changes color, to a murky rainbow of orange and then green. The whole thing vibrates gently. Each splash is like a liquid hand begging escape from a glass prison.
“If you touch it, it will explode.”
Penny’s matter-of-fact voice stops the hand I didn’t consciously decide to extend.
I drop my hand to my side and move to where she’s waiting next to a tall, black cupboard. I’m so focused on the cupboard and Penny and my stupidity of almost touching the glass that I don’t pay enough attention to my elbow.
It’s only a fraction out from my body, but as I pass a tower of glass beakers, it’s sticking out far enough. Clunk. It bumps a beaker, which wobbles, then teeters. I try to catch it, but there’s a chain reaction and I’m too slow to get them all. The very top one tumbles, hits the edge of the bench and falls. My lips part in a silent cry. Cold sweat drenches my skin. I brace for impact.
And … it bounces. I grab it from mid-air with damp, shaking hands, place it back on the bench and look to Penny.
Now she’s smiling. “There have been some modifications to lab ware since the Upheaval.”
“You think that’s funny?”
“I think you should stop throwing beakers around the lab and get over here.”
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