Locked In: No Way Out Series - Book One

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Locked In: No Way Out Series - Book One Page 23

by Ryan, Shari J.


  “I met his brother. He was a pleasant man until he was eaten alive by another human being.”

  Mom clears her throat and lifts the stack of papers off of her desk, shuffling them around in her hands as a distraction. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says.

  “Let’s see,” I say, placing my elbows down on my knees. “Tell me how well I do here: The fucks outside of Chipley were infected by a terrorist act that contaminated all the U.S. bodies of natural water with a toxin. Drinking the contaminated water altered the chemical balance in the brain of everyone infected. Those, the fucks,” she hates when I cuss, “they’ve become a type of…zombies, flesh-eating creatures, who are actually still live human beings.”

  “Sinon,” she interrupts.

  “Nope, not done,” I continue. “So we have group A, those who cannot be controlled, so most of them, not all, have been imprisoned outside of Chipley in various prison-like environments across the country I assume. Then we come to group B, those who were protected from this terrorist attack, an attack the government was aware of ahead of time. Those people, the people of Chipley, will be your humanized form of weaponry. Your science research has been working diligently to alter the chemical balance of the uninfected fucks here in Chipley so you can have a good fight against everyone outside of Chipley. Group B wins, Group A is dead, the infected are gone, and you stop poisoning Group B, so all is right in the world once again. All of this, of course, will spark re-creation of the U.S. population, and you’re famous for playing God. Tell me, Mom, how close am I?” She doesn’t even have to respond. She doesn’t have to. I can see it all written across her face. Reese, however, she’s smiling, she’s proud.

  “I haven’t given you enough credit, Sinon.” Mom drops the papers from her hand, letting them scatter across her desk. She leans back in her chair, the coils in the cushion whining in response. “You’re almost correct. Do you have a better solution?”

  “Nope,” I say. “But if you want this to work, you need to earn the respect of everyone in Chipley. Making them all fight to the death for food, poisoning them without their knowledge, keeping them in sheds for shelter? You want these people to fight on your behalf? If you walked out there right now, they’d eat you alive—literally. Clearly, you’ve never had to lead anything more than your own son, which you failed miserably at,” I laugh, taking a quick break in my verbal assault. “See, Mom, there comes a time in every man or woman’s life where you have to sit back and realize that you might not be cut out for this job.” I pause for a minute, putting more pieces together in my head. “Why is everyone walking around in biohazard suits when the contaminant was spread through water? Surely you aren’t all that dumb, are you?”

  She laughs more, but the laugh is at me, not at my words and questions. “Stop believing everything you hear, son.”

  “Why aren’t you wearing a mask?” I ask her.

  “We’ll just say it doesn’t matter,” she laughs, though, weakness is pouring out of her eyes, weakness in the form of tears. “Do you think I want to be doing this?” she asks softly, avoiding my questions. “I didn’t volunteer to do this. I take orders from Jackson Crownwell. I’m the face to his voice and the shield to his shooting target. I may be mayor, but he’s the goddamn president—or dictator, I should call him.” She pulls a tissue out from one of her lower desk drawers, dabbing it under each of her eyes to prevent more makeup from dripping down the side of her cheeks. “I don’t go out into Chipley because everything you said is true. You, though, you are a warrior, Sinon. I knew you would do great things, and you’ve proven that to be true. They will listen to you.”

  “You can’t sit here and tell me you had this all perfectly planned out. You had no idea if I would survive. You had no idea I would eventually break out of the unlit, condemned prison. You had no idea I would find Reese and find a reason for fighting through the insanity running that town.” Since she knew none of that, I know she’s covering up more of her shitty decisions.

  “You’re right about everything except for Reese. I knew she—you,” she looks at Reese, “would be here. Reese’s mother, who also worked for Jackson Crownwell, had her brought here to protect her from what she knew was about to happen. She made a deal with him, so to speak.” Mom looks back over at Reese, creating a longer pause than necessary in her explanation. “To protect you, your mother had you brought by Sinon’s father, who is close friends with Crownwell.”

  “Dad said Reese was a taken against her will as retaliation. For what, we don’t know I guess, right?” I interject.

  “Your father was angry. He wanted to take you home that day, Sinon, but the time wasn’t right, so I wouldn’t let him—Crownwell wouldn’t let him either. And of course, he was even angrier that he had to retrieve Reese the way he did. Your father is a lot of things, but he is not a kidnapper.”

  “Yes, Mom, yes, he is.”

  “Tit for tat, son. He was following orders.”

  “What deal did my mother make?” Reese asks, anger and despondency filling her shaky voice.

  “Sweetie, parents will go to the ends of the earth for their children,” she says, holding her hand up to me, preventing me from saying exactly what she deserves to hear. Clearly, she already knows, though.

  “You said I had a brother?” Reese asks, looking down at her fidgeting fingers.

  “Yes,” Mom responds through a sigh. “Your mother gave herself to Crownwell in exchange for your salvation.” Reese’s skin flushes and the frown lines on her cheeks deepen. I can only imagine how much her heart is aching right now. I saw the love she had in her eyes when she was hallucinating the thought of embracing her mother. That woman is the only reason Reese survived all of those years. For Reese, after so recently learning that her mother has died, and now finding out what she went through to save her daughter, the combination is something that cannot be easily digested, and I’m guessing too much to bear.

  “She would have said goodbye to me,” Reese murmurs. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Everything happened the way it needed to, dear.” She cuts Reese off, stopping her questions and her accurate assumptions.

  “Why here, Mom? What’s so fucking great about Chipley? Why would you want to hold me hostage—us hostage—in a place like this?”

  A cocky smile tugs to one side of her face. “That’s easy. Protection. Chipley is the perfect place, son. The prisoners, all weak-minded souls, were the perfect guinea pigs to create this army we need to fight the Juliets. Though it was never my intention to turn you into a fighter, so I had you contained and fed—kept safe. I obviously would have brought you here with me, but I wasn’t allowed to , or we both would have been killed.” The look in her eyes as she says this screams...lie. “And as for Reese, she was safe as well, living in the basement of our old house in Chipley for two years before she was brought to the shed, which was also safe.”

  “No, I wasn’t,” Reese snaps out.

  “Well of course you were. You were living with me, dear. I was down there with you. We were to remain in confinement for two years until the testing was complete.” Mom switches her gaze to me. “I know what you’re thinking, Sinon, but even your father wasn’t even allowed to come down there—plus, I refused to work for Crownwell unless he kept that man away from me at all times.” And me, evidently. I never knew the actual reason he would not go down into the basement. Refocusing her attention on Reese, Mom walks across the room, kneeling in front of her. “You were the perfect case for research, Reese, so we lived together for two years while I collected data on your brain in order to create the chemical needed to lace the food for the prisoners of Chipley. I know it’s confusing but you were quite an asset to us, dear. You should be proud of what you’ve down.”

  I’m about to jump out of my seat and strangle the life out of her. Instead, I take in a long breath while clamping my hands tightly around the armrests of this metal chair, but with the release of air, I stand up and throw the chair into
the wall behind me. “You did what?”

  “How come I don’t remember any of this?” Reese asks quietly.

  “Something went wrong with one of the tests, and it caused a bout of amnesia. You were fine, though. I had the research and data, so Crownwell moved me into the bunker at that point, and Reese, you were put in captivity to keep you safe from the prisoners.”

  “What the hell is wrong with your brain? At what point in your life did you become so deranged that you would think any of this is okay?” I yell.

  Ignoring my rage, she continues, “You two have done this country a huge service, and you should both be proud of one another.” Her final words are all it takes. I move quickly around her desk, pulling her up by her shoulders, pinning her to the wall.

  “You’re a murderer,” I spew out through my clenched jaw.

  “A murderer?” she questions through quiet laughter. “Do you have any idea how many people I have saved?”

  “We have only seen people die in Chipley,” Reese says, avoiding eye contact with my mother. “Sin is right.”

  37

  Chapter Twelve

  REESE

  I wasn’t sure how this would turn out, us chastising the apparent mayor of this condemned, screwed, “town”, but I’m gathering that no one has yet put this woman in her place or showed her a light she has clearly been blinded to.

  There is nothing but silence filling the depths of this small office, unsaid thoughts floating above each one of our heads. We came in here to tell her she’s doing it all wrong, but maybe we should have come in here with a better solution. I don’t know if there is one.

  “You need to make those people like you if you want them to fight. You need to train them and prepare them for war. Taking criminals sick enough to be hospitalized and throwing them into a gauntlet will be a waste of whatever plan you have been trying to accomplish,” Sin says, his anger finally simmering, just a little as he corners her against the wall.

  “What exactly are you suggesting, Sinon?” Amelia shoves Sin away from her and straightens her suit jacket over her hips. With her lips pressed together in a straight line across her mouth, she slides by Sin’s frozen stance and begins to pace back and forth. Two steps forward, pivot, two steps back, and repeat. During the time of her pacing, Sin hangs his head between his shoulders as he massages his thumbs into his temples.

  “We’ll do it,” I say, soft enough that I’m not sure either of them heard me. However, Amelia stops pacing and turns toward me. Sin cocks his head to the right and holds his gaze on mine. I suppose they’re waiting for me to finish this un-thought-out idea.

  “You were always born to be a Sinon, weren’t you?” Amelia says, now looking at Sin.

  I’m not sure I understand.

  “Did you know he was named after a Greek God, Reese? A warrior at that.”

  “A deceiving warrior—a liar, that’s what you named me after. You want me to fool the people of Chipley into thinking we support them so they will fight for us, and in turn, get themselves killed?”

  “It’s the only way to get a fresh start,” she says, shrugging her shoulders with a questioning grin.

  “Why not train these people to fight and then help them get well once they’ve done their civil duty? Why not give them another chance at life? They have all been punished for whatever crimes they committed—they have been punished worse than what any prisoner should experience.”

  “That is absolutely absurd,” Amelia says. “They are prisoners. We absolutely cannot fix our population by reinserting what was wrong with this country in the first place.”

  “Deal or no deal,” Sin says. “If you want us to do your dirty work so you don’t get your pretty little suit dirty, then the prisoners don’t get killed off. They get medical help. They get rehabilitation.”

  Amelia’s jaw is tight, her cheeks are red and her focus is narrowly pointed at Sin. “Fine,” she says.

  “You give us weapons and protective gear, as well.”

  “Can she even shoot a weapon?” Amelia asks Sin, rather than asking me. I am sitting right here, fully capable of speaking.

  “I—“ I begin to answer.

  “She has a better damn shot than I do,” Sin says for me.

  “Very well. Dinner will be brought in to you shortly and I will prepare two bedrooms for you to sleep in tonight. First thing in the morning, you will head out to begin preparations with the people of Chipley.”

  “Locke!” Amelia shouts.

  The door opens immediately and Locke pokes his head in. “Yes, Ma’am?”

  “Take these two to the food hall, stay with them until they are finished eating, and then bring them to the sleeping quarters in Hall D. Each will stay in their own room. I will have linens and a change of clothes brought up.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” Locke says again.

  Sin places his hand over my back as we stand up together, following Locke out the door. “Sinon,” Amelia says softly. I continue walking, showing an amount of respect I don’t think she deserves. Regardless, even out in the hall, I can still hear what she is saying. “I never intended things to be like this,” she says.

  “Yeah, you keep saying that,” Sin replies.

  “You have to believe me, Sinon.”

  “Okay,” he mutters, sounding as if he’s trying to shoo her off.

  “You were placed on this earth to do good things and I truly believe that. You can make a difference, a dent in the repairing of our country. I know this will all work. It has to.”

  “Okay,” Sin says again.

  “I love you,” Amelia says in nothing but a whisper.

  “Okay.” Sin steps out of the office, finding me, placing his arm around my back.

  With each step we take, the silence and the open space ahead of us allow many of the thoughts from the past couple hours to seep into my fragile mind. I had amnesia, forcing me to forget about two years of my life. I was a test monkey as a side effect of Mom trying to save my life. Mom is dead. Mom had a love child with Jackson Crownwell. So many explanations and so little clarity. I have every answer I’ve wanted and now I wish I knew nothing. The worst part of this is that Mom is dead—the one person I stayed alive for those years in the shed. I had hopes of surviving that horror just so I could reunite with her again some day. What am I surviving for now? Me? That should be the right answer, but it’s not the truth.

  Sin’s hand finds mine and interlaces his fingers between mine, squeezing tightly, telling me how he feels without saying a word. As if he heard my thoughts, his touch offers a reminder, a cause, an effect, a reason for it all. He brings my hand up to his lips, pressing his mouth softly against my skin. I look up at him, needing to see the look in his eyes, needing to read his thoughts, too. When he looks down at me, I see what I need to see. I feel it in every part of my body. He does love me, and I do love him. It’s enough to get us through whatever this will be.

  The scent of fresh bread awakens a different set of nerves in my body the further down this hall we get. The heavy aroma clenches its fist around my stomach and squeezes hard enough to make it ache.

  “You two hungry?” Locke asks, turning to face us with a wry grin.

  The response is written across Sin’s face just as it is mine. The response is telling him to shut up and take us to the food.

  We enter a small eating room, filled only with metal tables. From the other direction, a patrol walks in with two styrofoam containers and places them down on a table. He pulls two bottles of soda out of his oversized jacket pockets, places them down on the table as well, and then walks back in the direction he came from. “Enjoy,” he says flatly before the door closes behind him.

  38

  Chapter Thirteen

  SIN

  I lift the lid off my food, finding the most incredible looking pizza. My stomach rejoices at the scent as I lift a piece up, bringing it to my mouth quickly, careful not to let any of the hot cheese slide from the top. I try my hardest to take small bite
s, but damn! This thing is fucking amazing. Reese already has cheese covering both sides of her mouth as a soft moan purrs from her throat.

  “Oh my God, this is amazing.”

  “Take it easy, your stomach might not handle the acidity too well,” I warn. She responds by balling up her napkin and playfully throwing it at my face. This simple flirtatious act brings a realization of the abnormality our relationship has endured since the day we met. We’ve missed out on so much. We never had the opportunity to flirt or take things slow, develop a friendship, unfolding each other’s secrets one at a time until we both came to know we couldn’t live without each other. Instead, we’ve been forced together as if we are the last two people left in this twisted, dying world. We grew on each other after a long span of loneliness, and needed each other more than we’ve wanted each other, but even after the short amount of time we’ve spent together, I look at her and realize that there may be something bigger that brought us here. I want to know more about her. I want to flirt with her, date her, show her what it’s like to have a real boyfriend. As I consider all this, I am surprised to find myself feeling a bit shy.

  I take the balled up napkin and toss it back at her, giving her a small smile—the smile that makes her cheeks turn pink and her lashes flutter. I’m amazed at her sudden shyness and mine, considering how intimate we have been.

  “How do you think tomorrow is going to go over?” she asks after swallowing a mouthful.

  “Let’s not worry about tomorrow until we get through tonight,” I tell her, keeping my voice low.

  “What’s tonight?”

  “Us. That’s it,” I reply, intertwining my fingers with hers, then meeting her gaze.

  “In our own rooms,” she laughs.

  “Screw that.” I feel the toe of her boot slide against the inside of my foot beneath the table and her cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink, as she looks down at her food. I love this new side of Reese I am experiencing, and I can’t wait to make her blush some more.

 

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