by Dylan Steel
His grip loosened, and she wrenched her arm free, leaping through the door and slamming it behind her. She immediately turned to the first door in the hallway, the one that she knew led to the hidden staircase, and grabbed the handle, twisting it hard. But it didn’t open this time.
She felt her heart stop as an overwhelming sense of dread swept over her. That was her whole plan—she’d been counting on that door being open. They’d been so focused on the fact that she’d managed to escape from the rooftop, she’d been certain that they wouldn’t have even realized the doors in her hall had been left unlocked before.
She ran to the next door, then the next, trying each one. She’d made it halfway down the hall when she heard an angry grunt come from the direction of her room. Her pace quickened.
Sam appeared in the doorway, and Sage’s hand dropped from another knob. She turned on her heel and sprinted down the length of the hallway. Maybe, if she could make it to the Transfer before Sam caught her, she’d be able to climb back up into the shaft and find another way out.
Desperate thoughts tumbled in her head as she pulled to a sudden stop in front of the Transfer. She gaped at it, bewildered. Unlike every other time she’d approached it, this door was closed now too. She swept her hand across the pad, trying to coax it open. Nothing.
“Sage.” Sam’s booming voice echoed down the hallway. He was obviously much closer to her now. His tone sounded eerily calm.
Ignoring him, she jumped to the side, frantically trying another door.
“They’re all locked, Sage. You’re not leaving.”
His voice was directly behind her now.
“No!” she screamed and whirled around, lashing out again with her fist.
Easily passing her hand to the side, Sam just looked at her, unimpressed by her efforts. She’d lost the element of surprise.
“No!” she repeated, slapping her palms against his chest, unsuccessfully trying to shove him backward.
His hands closed around her wrists. She tried to jerk her arms free, but her efforts proved futile. Sam stood as still as a statue as she thrashed angrily.
Her eyes darted around wildly, and she suddenly remembered some rudimentary but effective attacks. She grinned inwardly as she pulled her leg up and then slammed her heel down as hard as she could, aiming for Sam’s foot.
In one swift move, he’d spun her around and slammed her face-first against the wall. She cried out in a mixture of pain and surprise.
“That’s enough, Sage.” There was a trace of pity in his voice, which only served to infuriate her more. She wriggled in his grasp, but it was clear she wasn’t going anywhere.
“You have two options,” he continued coolly. “You can calm down, and I can let you go, and we can walk back to your room together. Or you can continue struggling, in which case I’ll just carry you back to your room. Either way, you’re going back to your room.” He paused, waiting for her answer.
Sage whimpered under his strong hold, pressing her forehead against the wall as she continued debating the likelihood of her escape. She looked down to her side, gritting her teeth as she stared at the floor. A drop of blood splashed onto the floor from the gash on Sam’s arm.
A new plan quickly formed in her mind. She forced herself to take a deep breath.
“Fine,” she said bitterly. “I’ll go back.”
At those words, Sam released his grip on her. Sage felt her arms slip forward now that they were no longer forced into an unnatural position behind her back. She pressed her palms against the wall and looked back at her guard. He was watching her warily.
Pushing against the wall to regain her balance, she took a step back and glared at Sam.
“I’m not sorry,” she said icily.
“I know.”
Heaving a sigh, she turned back around and took a step toward her room.
The instant she heard Sam make a motion to follow her, she spun back around, her fist flying straight at Sam’s still-bleeding arm.
Anger flashed across his face when she made contact. That was good. It meant she’d hurt him. There wasn’t time to dwell on small victories, though. Drawing her arm back, she launched her elbow toward his temple. If she could knock him out, she might be able to use his handprint to open the Transfer and escape.
As her arm closed the distance to his head, she felt a strange lightness in her body. An instant later, she saw colors whirling through the air. She could no longer see the target she was aiming for. Her back arched painfully, and a strong pressure lay across her wrists and ankles, immobilizing them. Sam had slung her over his shoulders.
She closed her eyes in defeat as every step brought her that much closer to her too-familiar prison.
17. DIFFERENT
“Today’s going to be a little different.”
Sam stood in the doorway, looking at Sage.
“Obviously. Where’s my breakfast?” She eyed him uncertainly, fighting back the growing sense of worry forming in the pit of her stomach.
“Really? That’s what you say? After the stunt you pulled…” He shook his head in annoyance.
He uncrossed his arms and tossed something at her. She saw a glint of silver before catching it. Her forehead knitted together in a frown. It looked almost identical to the bracelet she was already wearing. Almost. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what was different about it.
“What’s—”
“Put it on your free wrist,” he ordered.
She lifted her eyes in a challenge. “What if I don’t?”
Unfazed, he met her glare with an unwavering calmness. “Then I’ll do it for you. And I won’t be bothered with your comfort.”
It was more a statement of fact than a threat, but by now Sage knew she didn’t stand a chance against Sam. Based on how effortlessly he could defeat her, she figured he must have been a Bokja champion whenever he’d graduated.
Her jaw jutted forward in protest, but she didn’t say another word as she grabbed the other bracelet and draped it over her wrist, the ends dangling close together but not yet touching. She didn’t see a way to clasp it together.
“Now, what? Don’t you have to use the thingy to cl—umph—” She was cut short by a forceful push against her wrist as the bracelet sealed itself closed and smacked itself against the other one.
Panic rose in her chest. She pulled hard against the bracelets, but her hands wouldn’t separate. Something was very wrong. Terror filled her eyes as she looked back up at Sam.
“I’m not taking any chances after the last few stunts you’ve pulled. Don’t worry, you won’t even notice it once we’re on our way.”
“On our way?” Her voice was uneven. “Where are you taking me?”
Sam shook his head, taking a step toward her. “Your questions will be answered soon enough.”
“Are you going to kill me?” she asked shakily, holding her trapped hands in front of her as she backed up.
He froze. “You think—” Emotion flickered across his face for a moment, too quickly for Sage to figure out what it was. “No,” he said quietly. “I know you don’t think so, but you’ve always been safe here.”
Her back thudded against the wall as she tried to inch away from him.
“No,” she whispered hoarsely.
“Come with me now, Sage.” He stopped just within arm’s reach of her.
“No,” she whimpered, unable to stop the tears from flowing as she slid backward along the wall, trapping herself in the corner.
Sam sighed. “Yes,” he said firmly, reaching for her wrist.
She felt herself being dragged from her room. Her feet felt like lead, but at the same time, she thought she might be floating over her body, looking down on herself. None of it seemed real.
Only once the Transfer door closed in front of her face did she feel the fog lift from her brain.
“No,” she said. “No.” It came louder this time. She turned to face Sam. “I need to know. What are you—” A sharp pain in the side o
f her neck stopped her immediately.
Her mouth dropped open as her eyes traveled downward toward the source of the pain. Sam withdrew the needle, quickly tucking it away.
“Wha—why? Wumphf,” she said angrily, already slurring her words. Stumbling forward, she fell to her knees and glared up at Sam, watching his face contort into a strange, blurred swirling shape until he faded into blackness.
18. DON’T MOVE
The woodsy aroma of dirt and damp leaves drifted up to Sage’s nose. She blinked in confusion. The world around her was encased in darkness. A cricket chirped beside her, some of his friends answering his song in the distance. And her face hurt. It felt like someone was squeezing her jaw.
A bright light shone against Sage’s eyelids. She squinted, irritated by the intrusiveness of the rude beam.
“This way!” A man’s voice called out. He sounded far away.
Her eyes squeezed tightly shut. She turned her head away, desperate for a respite from the harshness of the light. Something rough brushed against her cheek, making her jump.
Or at least she tried to jump.
She stretched out her limbs as far as she could and let out a muffled groan. Her body tipped over involuntarily, her face grinding into the ground beneath her. It didn’t take her long to figure out that her hands were stuck together behind her back, and gathering from their lack of cooperation, her feet seemed to be similarly restrained and attached to something immovable.
Squirming, she tried desperately to sit up and free herself, but even the act of sitting up was much harder than she’d expected. Stiffness had set in throughout her whole body. She wondered how long she’d been stuck there as a cramped tangle of limbs.
The haze that had settled over her mind began lifting as images began rushing back to her. Sam. The stab of a needle. The Transfer ride she’d barely started. She felt her breathing quicken.
It was an odd thought, but she was suddenly aware of how thirsty she was. And how difficult it was to swallow. Panic rose up in her as she realized the reason her jaw hurt so badly. She’d been gagged.
As she rocked her neck from side to side in an attempt to loosen the gag, she realized what had brushed against her face earlier and why her eyes still seemed unwilling to adjust to the darkness. There was a dark hood over her head.
A faint, muffled yelp escaped when the gravity of her situation hit her. She was outside her room, likely unsupervised at last, but it sounded like she was about to be discovered by potentially hostile strangers while completely helpless. She wasn’t willing to give up her freedom without a fight, and she’d prefer not having to fight at all.
Begging her muscles to cooperate, she scooted backward until her fingers slammed against something rough—the trunk of a tree, possibly? She could hear the excited rumble of voices getting closer. Why were they after her anyway? There wasn’t enough time to wonder.
Contorting her still-aching limbs, she folded herself in half, dragging her arms down her back and shimmying them down the back of her legs until her hands were finally in front of her. She felt the rope connecting her feet to the tree thud unceremoniously against the inside of her arms as she blindly groped at the ropes, attempting to untangle herself.
Already worried she’d wasted too much time trying to untie the rope at her feet, she bent farther down, reaching for the hood with the tips of her fingers. There wasn’t much slack in the rope, and she was intensely aware of every precious second ticking by as she struggled with it unsuccessfully. Clawing desperately at her head, she finally managed to grab a chunk of fabric and yank it hard.
She grimaced as a section of her hair left her head along with the hood. Reaching back toward her ankles, she blinked several times while working on the knots.
Her fingers worked quickly, tugging at each section, coaxing them loose one by one.
The rope fell from her ankles, freeing her from where she’d been planted next to the tree. Now if only she could figure out how to free her hands—she’d need them to be able to remove the gag. She frowned as she studied her wrists for a moment. Strangely, they were still connected by two bracelets, not rope. How was she supposed to get the second bracelet off?
She glanced over her shoulder and saw an army of glowing lights approaching her, bobbing up and down erratically as voices grew louder, more eager. Whoever was coming toward her was tramping loudly through the woods, sending hundreds of small creatures scurrying past her.
Her heart sank as she realized she didn’t have time to work the gag off of her mouth. If she wanted her freedom, she had to leave now.
Forcing her feet beneath her was a small miracle. Just managing to walk would have been challenging enough, but asking her body to run was really pushing her luck. She stumbled forward awkwardly, picking up speed as her muscles warmed, finally loosening.
Running with her hands still forced together and the gag still biting into her lips was proving more difficult than she would have thought. But there wasn’t anything that could be done about it. Not yet, at least. Twigs popped and snapped in close succession behind her as branches whipped at her face. The men were gaining on her.
Sage felt a new shot of adrenaline pumping through her as soon as she realized how quickly they were closing in. Her movements still felt clumsy as she leapt through the underbrush, fighting to maintain her balance as she ran deeper into the woods with her wrists bound in front of her.
Casting a glance over her shoulder, she noticed a flash of light guiding a man straight toward her. She cut to the left abruptly in an attempt to shake him from her trail. A grin fought its way out from behind the gag as she heard him trip over a stump and crash into a tree. His string of profanities faded into the distance behind her as she pressed on.
“Sage? Sage Indarra?”
Her eyes widened as she heard her name being shouted by a set of voices. How did they know her name? Who were these people?
Another voice called out her name. It was coming from straight in front of her. She dug her heels into the ground and skidded to a stop, switching directions as quickly as she could.
“You’re safe now! Stop! You don’t have to run!”
She would have scoffed at that if the gag would’ve let her. She knew better. She wasn’t safe anywhere.
A low branch suddenly appeared in front of her. She ducked under it and then jumped over a felled log—but not fast enough. The edge of her shoe caught against the uneven bark, launching her forward into the air.
Managing to twist slightly to the side as she fell, Sage felt her cheek slam forcefully against a pile of rocks covered only by a thin layer of leaves. She lay stunned for a moment before pushing against the rocks and stumbling back onto her feet.
Blood was spilling from a gash on her cheek, rapidly absorbing into the fabric wrapped around her mouth. The metallic taste forced its way onto her tongue as she staggered forward unsteadily.
Her fall must have disoriented her more than she realized because she found herself stumbling headfirst into one of the men just a few moments later.
“I’ve got you, I’ve got you. You’re ok.” The man wrapped his arms around her, pinning her to her spot as he spoke soothingly, as if trying to tame a wild animal. She immediately recognized him as an officer from the Peace.
A muffled, guttural scream escaped from the gag as she struggled under his grasp. He could think whatever he wanted about her reasons for wanting to run, for screaming when she got caught. It didn’t matter. She’d been so close to true freedom. Again. And it had been ripped from her at every turn.
“You’re ok. You’re ok.” The officer’s voice rose louder as his comrades crashed through the woods toward them. She wasn’t sure if his words were for her sake or his.
Squirming, she lifted her legs and pedaled violently in the air, pushing back against him. He swayed backward, trying to regain his balance while holding onto his prize.
“Calm down! We’re here to save you. Calm down.”
Save her?
They were going to throw her back into the Institution. Probably shun her. She was going back to a different prison with the same sentence.
“Good work, officer,” another voice grunted approvingly. Sage’s eyes shot over to the new man who’d just joined them. He had that smug, self-assured look that said he was in charge. “Looks like you could use a hand.”
“Yes, sir,” he wheezed as she continued wriggling. The second officer’s hands braced her shoulders rigidly, largely tamping out her remaining energy to fight. “I don’t know what they did to her, but she’s acting like we’re her enemies.”
The senior officer snorted dismissively. “The doctor will examine her when we return. I’m sure it’s nothing permanent. They wouldn’t dare. Not with what they’re asking for.”
The first officer froze. “Sir, she has a… there’s a second bracelet on her. And it’s—it’s glowing.”
Sage felt the blood drain from her face. She had no idea why a glowing bracelet was a bad thing, but the fear in his voice was undeniable. She stopped fighting against the officers’ grasp.
The senior officer swore.
“Get the gag off of her,” he said gruffly. “She might be able to tell us something.”
A few more officers had arrived by now, and the senior officer quickly handed off his solid grip to a couple rookies as he attended to whatever had suddenly become a more urgent matter. Turning to the side, he pressed his palm against his ear and spoke to someone who wasn’t in the woods. “Do it… No… There’s no throppin choice here! You have your orders.”
Rough hands grabbed at Sage’s face, loosening the gag and dropping it on the ground. She worked her jaw up and down gingerly. Her lips felt dry, yet somehow swollen and raw. A bit of saliva dribbled down her chin as she tried to regain control of her mouth.
She probably shouldn’t have been, but she couldn’t help it—part of her was mortified that she’d just drooled like a helpless infant. She reached up to wipe it away, but one of the men grabbed her arm and stopped her halfway.