"I don't know what you want from me. I don't know anything," Max said.
"You know much more than you are willing to let on. Why would a family live on a compound?"
"My dad was crazy. Not much more to it," Max replied.
"What would you be trying to keep out?"
"Everything?" Max answered. She rolled her shoulders slightly trying to work the stiffness out. Everything hurt, she had to be sure not to wince and give away how bad she really was feeling.
"Where is Rafe?" Callahan asked.
"You seem to know a lot about my family. Shouldn't you know where Rafe is?" Max responded.
Her answer was not what Callahan wanted. Again she was yanked back and positioned over the tub. She didn't fight this time, didn't say anything. Struggling wouldn't make a difference. The soldiers were going to follow their orders. Max wasn't going to answer any questions. She made eye contact with Private Smith before they covered her face with the washcloth. The young man was pale, his eyes wide with fear and shock. Max stared at him until they covered her eyes.
The water was a shock, even though she was expecting it. She held her breath, but her body began to panic. She tried to turn her head to get away from the flow of water, but the washcloth was tight across her airways. She gagged and choked, visions of drowning and never seeing Jack again filled her mind. She tried to spit water out but it just kept flowing.
"That's enough," Callahan's voice reached Max's oxygen-starved brain just before the men flipped her back forward. They angled her slightly toward the ground, allowing the water to flow from her nostrils and mouth. She retched water and her stomach contents with no hesitation. The bile burned her abused throat. She could see Callahan pull his feet back slightly as the fluids splashed toward him.
"Feed her and hang her back up," Callahan said, standing and walking toward the door.
"Thanks...for the....visit," Max croaked out, her smart-ass attitude still intact. Callahan stopped at the door and came back to where Max slumped in the chair. Max tried to lean back to look up at him as he stood in front of her. Quick as a striking snake, Callahan slapped Max across the face, reopening the split lip she had. Max's head was slung to the side and she left it there letting the sting fade slowly.
"We will cure you of that mouth eventually," Callahan said and exited the cell.
After her sparse meal and glass of water, that she could barely choke down after the waterboarding, she was lifted and left to hang by her wrists again. The water dripping from her body puddled below her feet. Max lost count of the sound of the drips. As she began to float between awake and unconsciousness she found herself again trying to think through how her older brother was involved with Callahan. Involved was probably too far, as Callahan obviously had no idea where Rafe was.
His line of questioning insinuated that her brother was somehow involved with the plague, further than the fight for survival everyone was dealing with. She remembered how she couldn't reach Rafe before the cell network fell. Where was her brother when he should have been at the compound, preparing for their arrival and their lives behind the walls? Callahan knew what their home looked like, at least the wall that her father had worked on for years.
As her vision dimmed and she gave over to sleep, she tried to not think of all of the things that could have gone wrong since she spoke with Alex last. The faces of her niece and nephew floated in her brain and she allowed a tear to slip from the corner of her eye before she sucked them back. She didn't have the luxury of crying right now. She let herself drift, no longer able to fight the exhaustion her body was feeling.
Max tried to count the number of times Callahan referred to the morning when he came into her cell. If she based it on that, she had been alternating between hanging and laying on the floor for five days. Five long days where despair tried to seep into her mind, pulling her down. Five days of her not seeing Griffin, Jack, or anyone besides Callahan and his minions. Sparse meals and soaking wet clothing from the torture and wake up calls of ice cold water being thrown on her.
On day five, or maybe six, Max wasn’t sure, she sat unbound across from Callahan. She shivered from the water and the cold that seemed to trickle into the concrete room. She wrapped her arms around her stomach to try and hold in some of the warmth of her body, the fear of hypothermia setting in. Callahan was in a talkative mood, though Max had mainly ignored him with the same drivel he spouted every visit. However, he changed up his approach suddenly.
"I have always enjoyed Flathead Lake, Max. Do you fish? I love to fish. It's quiet. There's solitude. I used to catch some of the largest rainbow trout in that lake. There's no solitude like that anymore," Callahan said.
"Ok..." Max replied, confused.
"I know you have probably wondered why I'm asking these questions," he suddenly said, changing subjects. Max stared at him as if his head had fallen right off his shoulders and was rolling around the room. She had asked him time after time why he was asking her about her brother and sister. He had refused to acknowledge her inquiries. She knew he heard her, but she wasn't allowed to ask questions. So he pretended they didn't happen.
"No, what? Really? Why would I be wondering that?" Max replied, annoyance lacing her voice. Callahan raised his eyebrow at her, annoyed by her flippant attitude. Her face held the bruises, gashes, and split lips from the number of times he informed her he didn't appreciate her attitude. Those instances didn't stop Max. Deep inside she felt the only way she could continue to fight back was to keep mouthing off. If she could keep pushing his buttons and give him no information, she was still fighting back.
"We have a problem with this plague, Max. We don't have a cure."
"No? I thought maybe you were just keeping it for yourself."
"As we do not have a cure, we have to find out where the illness started, how it spread and then maybe we can find a way to fight it. Wouldn't you agree, Max?" Callahan asked the question, ignoring her remark. She just stared at him. Of course, she agreed they needed a solution to the plague, but she was still lost to how that related to her family.
"There is reason to believe that your brother Rafe has something to do with the cure to this plague." Callahan carefully dropped his bomb on Max and sat back waiting.
"Rafe? Have something to do with this plague? That's kinda insane. Which fits, since it's you I'm talking to," Max replied.
"What does your brother do for work Max?"
"Your pretty file doesn't tell you that?"
"Of course, it does. But I thought we were having a conversation. Your brother works in security. Contract work to be specific. And he was recently contracted for a job at a government subsidiary. You, I assume, were aware of that."
Actually, she wasn't. Max thought back to the last time she and Rafe had a long conversation on the phone. It wasn't that they didn't talk, but typically they had quick calls just checking in. She knew he was working security because it was what he was good at. However they never really talked about his specific jobs. Some of them were confidential and she just didn't ask.
"He acquired information from that facility that was confidential. He has been, how should I say it, avoiding capture since then."
"Capture? What in the hell are you trying to do to my brother?" Max sat up straighter, anger flaring and flushing her pale face.
"Where is Rafe, Max? Where is your brother?" Callahan asked for the hundredth time.
"I've told you, I don't know. And you said he's been avoiding capture. So you're looking. You would know better than me," Max huffed out, annoyed that they were back to the same line of questioning.
"We know he's not home, in Montana. Do you want to know why we know that?"
Max again didn't answer. It was mostly fear that kept her from saying anything. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer to that question. But Callahan didn't really care what she wanted to hear. He partially smirked at her. That evil filled look told Max that the answer wasn't going to be good.
"When my m
en went there, he fled with his information. They tried to burn the house with him in it, but they were unsuccessful," Callahan said, his voice nonchalant.
Max was on him before he could blink and before she could think of all the reasons it was bad for her to attack him. The surprise of the attack was the only way she got as far as she did. Callahan and the soldiers looked at her as if she was a broken little girl. Her body screamed in protest as she forced it to do as she wanted. Yet, the fury she felt fueled her muscles, her movements were smooth and strong.
Callahan flew backward as Max barreled into him, tackling him to the ground. She was smaller than him and easily rolled and was sitting on his chest before he could react. She began throwing punches into his face. She landed two solid strikes and was pulling back for a third before she was jolted by electricity shocking her back. Falling forward, she rolled off of Callahan and rolled into a ball to stop her body from the tremors.
Furious, Callahan jumped to his feet. He pushed back the soldier that was holding the baton stun gun to her body and the electricity stopped. The burning pain resumed and Max had to gasp to get air into her lungs. It was a futile action though, as Callahan booted her in the stomach. Max coughed and struggled to breathe. The Major was in control now, angry and smarting from being bested by a small woman.
His kicks were timed perfectly. Just as Max thought she was getting her breath back, he would steal it again. She tried to roll away but he just followed. Planting her hands on the ground, Max tried to fight to her feet, but Callahan stomped on her fingers, causing her to scream in pain. She fell back to the ground, holding her injured hand to her chest.
"That's right, Max. You can't win here," Callahan said to her, his voice low and menacing. He pulled back his arm and snapped a punch into her cheek. Pain exploded behind her eyes, blackness threatening to consume her.
"What makes you angry, Max? That your brother can't get away forever? We will find him. Or that we burned your little house to the ground?" Callahan said, taunting her, hitting her again in the face. Her head snapped back, hitting the concrete floor. Her body began to go limp, giving in to the unconsciousness that called her away from the pain.
"And your daughter? You'll never see her again. Now that we know who you are, she's perfect bait to get your brother. Thank you for bringing me the perfect plan, Max," Callahan spat on her face before standing straight again.
"NOOOO!" Max screamed, her voice sounding strangled and weak. Callahan turned to her for a moment again, and laughed, before leaving the room.
She was left on the ground that time, curled in a ball full of pain, panting, trying to get breath flowing. Her home, burned? That couldn't be true. Her mind refused to believe her home was gone. Callahan hadn't mentioned any of the outbuildings or the bunker in all of his questioning. Did he not know about those? Was all of this a lie to get her to fight? She was left wondering if she would ever get out of the room to find out.
What felt like hours later, the soldiers came back in. This time they had a woman with them. She looked scared, but she came straight to Max with a black bag. She looked into her eyes with a light, causing Max to hiss and try to pull away. The woman held onto her face and checked her cheeks and chin with gentle probing fingers. Max still tried to pull away, feeling pain and fear from being touched by anyone.
"Shhhh it's ok," the woman whispered. "I'm a doctor. I just want to check your injuries."
Something in the woman's soft voice made Max relax, feeling more at ease now with the exam. When she got to Max's shirt, she asked for permission to check her ribs and Max nodded. The doctor lifted the shirt slightly and touched her ribs. When she exposed Max's stomach, she gasped quietly at the bruising that lined her middle, as well as the burn points where the baton had been held against her body for too long. Max grimaced at the look on the doctor's face, not wanting to look at her own body and see whatever had made the doctor look at her like that.
"I don't think your ribs are broken, possible hairline fractures in some places. Without X-rays, I can’t tell for sure. You need to be really careful," the doctor said to her after she pulled her shirt back down. She then leaned over Max's face and applied butterfly bandages to the gashes that were still bleeding from her cheeks and forehead.
"My hand," Max said, holding out the injured digits.
"My god. What happened?" The doctor whispered.
"No talking!" Tweedle Dumber yelled from the entrance to the cell.
"To evaluate her injuries, I need to know how they feel, so I have to talk," the doctor calmly replied and rolled her eyes where only Max could see.
"Stomped on, it hurts," Max continued, gesturing to her hand.
The doctor took her hand gingerly, softly running her fingers along the bones, causing Max to wince in pain at certain points. The doctor's forehead furrowed as she tried to determine if the fingers were broken. Reaching into her bag she pulled out a bag of tape and gauze. As she taped the ring finger and middle fingers together she explained that it didn't seem any of them were broken completely. But those two were swelling so far, and could possibly have fractures. The splint and mobilization should keep her from any permanent damage.
"That is of course if you don't move it," the doctor whispered, as she looked around the room. She took in the chains, the hook in the ceiling, the overturned chairs, the waterboarding items and looked back at Max.
"Whatever they want, just give it to them," she whispered. She packed up her bag, moving slowly so she could talk to Max a moment longer.
"I can't. My daughter. Jack is with her father Griffin. Do you know them?"
"The little girl that has dark hair like yours? Yes, I've seen her."
"Please tell her, I love her. But I can't give Callahan what he wants," Max pleaded, looking into the doctor's eyes. The doctor didn't reply, but she nodded quickly.
With a squeeze to Max's uninjured hand, the doctor stood to leave the room. Max started to roll onto her side to find a comfortable position, but Tweedle Dumb and Dumber hoisted her off the ground. They roughly hooked her wrists together again and lifted her to hang her by the hook. Max screamed as they raised her arms above her head, causing her ribs to protest violently. The soldiers ignored her and left her scraping her toes against the concrete.
Her body was exhausted. Her mind couldn't comprehend everything Callahan had given her in their conversation. Rafe knew about the plague, maybe the cure. But he was on the run. Why would he run if that's what he had? Max pictured her home in her mind, perfect and strong, as her father had built it for them. Trying to picture it burned was impossible and Max stopped trying. Instead, she allowed images of home, Rafe, Alex, Jack, and even Griffin to invade her mind. She passed out hanging from the hook, her family comforting her.
"Jesus Christ, what did they do to her?"
The voice didn't register with Max enough to wake her up. Her mind was too cloudy and exhausted to wake up when the door opened and someone entered. When hands touched her near her ribs she hissed and tried to pull back, but she couldn't maneuver much hanging from the meat hook.
"Be careful, she's in pain," another voice said.
"Shhhh, baby, it's ok. It's me, it's Griffin. Can you wake up?"
Griffin. The name floated through Max's brain. Griffin, the boy she had loved as a girl and probably still loved now. What was Griffin doing there? In her mind she willed her body to react, her eyes to open. But nothing responded. She continued to hang limply as Griffin brought a chair over to her. He stepped up and grabbed her securely around her waist. She cried out as she was lifted, and Griffin shushed her in her ear.
"Babe, you gotta be quiet. I know it hurts. I'm sorry."
Slowly Griffin stepped off the chair with Max over his shoulder. The pain in her ribs jolting caused pain to radiate through her body, stealing her breath. Nevertheless, something inside her told her she had to stay quiet. Griffin laid Max on the cold ground and knelt beside her. She immediately curled into a ball on her side, trying to fend
off some of the pain, but no matter where she went, everything hurt.
"Max, come on, honey, you gotta wake up. We have to get out of here. I can't carry you out and fight if we have to," Griffin was saying, as he rolled her back toward him.
Taking all of her remaining willpower, Max summoned the energy she needed to open her eyes. She blinked in the darkness and flinched when a flashlight crossed over her face. Then Griffin pointed the flashlight at his own face and she was overwhelmed with the emotions that hit her. He smiled at her and leaned down to kiss her softly.
"Howdy, stranger," she said in a scratchy voice.
"Howdy to you. Ready to blow this party? Just doesn't seem like it's fun anymore," he replied. She didn't answer, just nodded and held up her uninjured hand. He stood and pulled her to her feet carefully. She leaned heavily on him before she could get the circulation moving throughout her body again. Her ribs ached and as the blood rushed back to her injured hand, needles of hot white agony ran down each of her injured fingers. She cradled it against her chest and stumbled before standing on her own.
"How did you get in here?" Max asked.
"With that key." Griffin motioned over to the other side of the room. By the door stood Turner, with a gun to Private Smith's head. Smith was in a white undershirt and white boxers, obviously taken from his bed. He stood trembling with tears on his face. Turner pressed the gun against Smith's temple.
"Yes, this key has been very helpful. Though to be fair, he wasn't given much a choice," Turner said.
"We grabbed him when he was on his way back to bed from the latrine. Didn't take much to convince him to bring us to where they were holding you. Weak piece of trash," Griffin punctuated his sentence with a well-aimed spit toward Smith's feet.
"Jack! Where's Jack?" Max felt panic bubble as she turned around in a circle and didn't find her daughter with them.
"Calm down, Max, she's ok."
"Where is she?"
Survive (Sundown Series Book 2) Page 28