by G. R. Lyons
“Hey! You there!”
Shit.
Graeden dove behind the next building, pulling Zhadeyn along with him, but when he took a moment to look around, there was nowhere for them to go without being seen.
We'll have to run, he told Zhadeyn, panting, and she nodded agreement.
Graeden squeezed her hand, listened to hurried footsteps approaching, and bolted in the opposite direction.
They ran to the next building and slid around the corner, putting their backs to the wall while they listened. The footsteps got closer, so they ran again, hoping to reach the trees unseen.
“Over there!” someone shouted.
Go! Zhadeyn cried, pushing Graeden ahead of her, but he refused to let go of her hand as they tried to run.
A gunshot sounded behind them, and Graeden ducked to a crouch, holding Zhadeyn down as they continued to run. Another shot was fired, grazing his arm, and just as they came to the next corner, they almost ran right into another guard.
Graeden lurched to a stop, holding Zhadeyn to his side, and looked around, panting, as he saw three officers surround them.
“We've got 'em, Chief!” one called, and a fourth officer appeared, panting as he came to a stop.
“Thank the gods,” the chief officer said, bending over and planting his hands on his knees. He took a moment to catch his breath and straighten up. “Bind them.”
Graeden…
It's alright.
We should run.
We can't, he said. They'll kill us for sure. Unless you can get them all at once.
As the officers grabbed them and tied their wrists behind their backs, it looked like Zhadeyn was considering the effort, but then she gave up with a hopeless sigh.
I'm so tired, she said. I can't think…Graeden…
It's alright, he soothed, keeping his eyes on her as they were shoved forward, guarded on either side while the chief led the way.
No, it's not alright! she inwardly screamed. You have to get back!
We'll find a way out of this, he said, trying to assure himself just as much as her. We'll think of something.
They made the trek back in silence, the four officers guiding them back to the heart of Vhais, undoing all their progress. Footsore, hungry, and exhausted, Graeden and Zhadeyn shared looks but no words as they kept their minds fully secure.
After several hours, they reached the capitol building, but continued walking right past it. Graeden glanced over at Zhadeyn, who looked just as worried and confused as he felt, but they kept moving in silence, trudging down a few more streets before they reached an isolated building at the southernmost end of the city.
The chief officer ran ahead and unlocked an iron gate, holding it open as the others led the prisoners inside. The building was cold and dimly lit, and the air was filled with the moans, cries, and curses of what sounded like dozens of men.
With Zhadeyn right behind him, Graeden was shoved down a long hallway with cells on either side. The men behind bars reached for them, grabbing for their clothes though they were just beyond their grasp, and hurled curses or lewd comments as they made their way to a large cell at the end of the hallway.
The chief opened the cell and shoved them inside, leaving their wrists bound as the gate was slammed shut, locking them in.
“Go tell Director Zevic we have them,” the chief said to one of his fellows.
The officer nodded and ran back outside while the other officers simply walked away, ignoring the prisoners' curses and cries.
Try to stay calm, Graeden said, standing close to Zhadeyn, but unable to put his arms around her. He took a deep breath, trying to stay calm himself, and looked down at her worried face.
She nodded, silent, and they remained very still, not saying a word, until footsteps sounded again and they looked up to see officers approaching, with Zevic in the lead.
“Well, well, what have we here?” Zevic said with a sneer. “A couple of runaway rats in need of a lesson.”
“Fuck you, Zevic,” Graeden spat, unable to resist, the very sight of the man irritating him. “You don't own us.”
“Oh, on the contrary,” Zevic began, waving at the gate. An officer unlocked it, and Zevic stepped inside while the officers kept the open doorway blocked. “You have just become my own personal playthings.” Zevic called over his shoulder, “Untie him.”
An officer squeezed through the doorway and removed the bonds from Graeden's wrists, then stepped aside, leaving Zhadeyn's hands bound.
“Now,” Zevic said, casually rolling up his sleeves, “let's just see what we can make of you.”
Graeden struck first, not waiting for Zevic to start, and the officers rushed toward them until Zevic held up a hand.
“Not now,” he ordered, getting to his feet and wiping a trickle of blood from his mouth. “Stand down. I intend to enjoy every last minute of beating the shit out of him.”
Graeden struck again before Zevic was ready, and the man went down again. Zevic launched to his feet, catching Graeden around the waist and slamming him back against the wall. Graeden pulled him down by the shoulders and brought his knee up into the man's chest, and Zevic reared up with a punch toward Graeden's jaw.
Graeden ducked out of the way and aimed a kick at Zevic's knee, sending the man to the floor again. Zevic spun around and knocked Graeden's legs out from under him, then launched himself at Graeden, pinning him to the floor.
They wrestled and struggled against one another, aiming punches at each other's faces and continually changing positions, Graeden gaining the upper hand, and then getting pinned by Zevic again.
Graeden shoved him over, punching Zevic in the ribs and then grabbing him by the throat.
Zevic struggled, wide-eyed, clawing at Graeden and trying to pull his hands away. Graeden held him, hoping to only render the man unconscious, but just as he felt Zevic's efforts fade, a splintering pain erupted in the back of Graeden's head, and the floor rushed up toward him as everything went black.
Chapter 27
GRAEDEN…
He groaned, his head lolling to one side, and tried to think past his pounding headache.
Graeden…
He groaned again, squeezing his eyes shut tighter and then trying to open them, blinking rapidly as he tried to make sense of his surroundings.
He found himself sitting naked on a cold, metal chair, his hands tied behind him and his ankles tied to the legs. The floor beneath his feet was rough concrete, and when he tried to raise his head, he found concrete walls on three sides of the room and iron bars on the fourth.
In the center of the room was a narrow metal table, and Zhadeyn was strapped down to it, also naked, her legs dangling off the end.
Are you alright?
Graeden blinked and saw Zhadeyn looking at him with concern.
What happened? he asked.
The officer knocked you out. Moved us in here. Graeden, I need you to–
What the hells is this? he asked, seeing a dozen naked men—all prisoners, by the looks of them—waiting under guard while an officer fitted a key to the lock.
Graeden, listen to me, Zhadeyn said in a hurry. These men are all condemned to die, but Zevic is going to let them rape me first while you watch–
WHAT?
No, listen! she gasped as the door opened and the prisoners rushed into the room, pushing and shoving against one another to be first in line. I need you to keep me out.
No, Zhadeyn–
I mean it, Graeden! Close your mind.
Zhadeyn! he shouted, struggling against his bonds.
Now, Graeden! Keep me out! Close your mind!
No!
The gate clanged shut, and the prisoners started dragging one another back and throwing punches, each of them so eager for the use of a woman's body that they seemed ready to die for it.
One man broke away from the group and lunged toward Zhadeyn.
Now, Graeden! Now!
Graeden let out a roar and slammed his mind s
hut just as he felt an incredible surge of mental energy sweep through the room.
A few seconds passed, in which the men fell silent, the man closest to Zhadeyn looking suddenly confused.
Then came the screams.
Clenching his hands into fists as he fought to keep his mind shut while wanting to lash out at every man in sight, Graeden watched as the prisoners doubled over, screaming in agony while blood ran down their legs.
Staring, mouth agape, Graeden's eyes slowly swept the room, even seeing the officers outside the gate falling to their knees.
Graeden watched in horror as each man's manhood was telepathically separated from his body, the appendages hitting the floor before the men themselves finally collapsed in agony.
The pressure of mental energy faded, and Zhadeyn collapsed back on the table, her arms slack at her sides.
Graeden stared at her, panting, and it was several seconds before he could manage to ask, Deyn?
Did I hurt you? she asked, even her inner voice sounding weak.
How did…I just…
He blinked dumbly, not sure what to say.
“What the–”
Graeden looked toward the gate and saw another officer standing over his fallen comrades, crouching down to check for a pulse.
“Father protect me and Lady have mercy,” the man breathed, staring at the scene before him. “What happened in here? How did–”
He cut off at the sight of Zhadeyn lying almost unconscious and trembling on the table, while Graeden sat in the chair, the only one unharmed.
“You!” the officer growled, hurriedly unlocking the gate and throwing it open. “You did this!”
The man stormed toward Graeden and backhanded him across the face. Graeden let out a low growl but didn't say anything.
“You gods-damned Agori and your cursed ways!” the officer spat, pulling a knife from his belt. “You should never have been allowed to come here!”
The man reached between Graeden's legs with one hand and raised the knife with the other.
“NO!” Zhadeyn shouted just as the knife came down.
Graeden struggled against his bonds, but they were too tight, feeling his wrists and ankles tearing as they rubbed against the ropes. Bracing himself for pain, Graeden let out a yell, and felt a fresh surge of telepathic energy flow through the room, making the officer stumble as his arm swung down.
But the knife still caught flesh, and Graeden screamed as the knife gouged through his foreskin and then his thigh, the tip of the blade catching on bone before it clattered to the floor. The officer hit the ground, and Graeden looked down in shock at the sight of his own femur glaring back at him between torn skin and muscle.
GRAEDEN!
He looked up slowly, too stunned to speak, and saw Zhadeyn squeeze her eyes shut, clenching her hands into fists as she stretched her bonds as far as they would go, letting out a roar as they snapped apart, leaving her arms free.
She collapsed back against the table again, panting and shaking. Graeden sat very still, trying to breathe and clenching his jaw against the pain, while Zhadeyn slowly sat up, untied the rest of her bonds, and fell off the table.
It was several minutes before she managed to push herself up onto her hands and knees, and she slowly crawled over to him, pushing aside the fallen officer and snatching up the knife. With trembling arms, Zhadeyn sawed the knife through the ropes around Graeden's ankles, then did the same with the ropes around his wrists, the knife falling out of her hand as she collapsed again, drained of energy.
Deyn?
I just need a moment, she said, panting and shaking as she struggled to sit up again.
Graeden eased himself off the chair and sat down beside her, shoving the officer over again and pulling off his coat. He used the knife to saw through the grey fabric, cutting a long strip from the hem of the coat, and tied the strip around his thigh to keep the wound more or less closed, letting out a low growl of pain as he cinched it down.
Zhadeyn managed to get up onto her knees and crawl toward the open gate, pulling a coat off another officer, along with his keys, and put the coat on herself before crawling back to Graeden. She helped him into what was left of the coat he'd cut apart, then slowly got up and helped him to stand.
Can you walk at all? she asked, concern overpowering her exhaustion.
I'll have to, he said, testing a little weight on his leg and growling at the pain.
Zhadeyn went to his left side and draped his arm over her shoulders, helping him hobble out of the cell and over the bodies of the guards.
The rest of the prison was eerily silent. Not a soul to be found.
They crept up to the outer gate and were met by only the glow of moonlight. With shaking hands, Graeden took the keys from Zhadeyn and unlocked the gate, swinging it open until it started to groan. They slipped through the narrow opening and hobbled along next to the wall until they could duck around the corner into deeper darkness.
We have to get out of here, Graeden said, leaning his head back against the wall and panting.
But how?
Graeden looked down at his leg, wondering how far he could possibly get, and over at Zhadeyn, seeing her strength about to give out.
We'll just have to try, he said, and she nodded weakly, not making a sound of complaint as they continued forward, trying to move away from the city.
They only got a few steps before a stab of pain threw Graeden to his knees, pulling Zhadeyn down with him.
He stifled a cry and braced himself on his fists, he and Zhadeyn supporting one another as they tried to straighten up.
If I had more energy, Zhadeyn began, panting and forcing her eyes to stay open, I could fix your leg, but…
We don't have time for that, Graeden said, shaking his head and wiping sweat from his brow. I'll manage. But we need to get away from here.
They tried to stand again, making more noise than they ought to have done, and as soon as they haltingly gained their feet, Graeden felt a hand come down over his mouth from behind.
Chapter 28
GRAEDEN'S HEART raced with panic. He tried to pull himself free, his leg screaming with pain as he struggled.
“Shhh,” a voice whispered. “Please don't scream.”
Graeden's eyes went wide, and he stood very still while the man lowered his hands and stepped around in front of them.
“Dr. Keisen?” Graeden gasped.
“Come with me,” Keisen insisted, creeping ahead and waving at them to join him. “There's a safe house nearby.”
“What is going on?” Graeden asked, staring from the doctor to his wife and back.
“I'll explain later. Come on!”
Glancing around nervously, Graeden held onto Zhadeyn and followed the doctor, slowly creeping along and trying not to make any noise as every step brought a fresh wave of pain.
They walked the distance of several blocks, disappeared under the cover of a dense wood, and came to a low building, cleverly hidden amongst the trees. Graeden ducked his head to follow Keisen inside, the doctor concealing the entryway behind them before he led the way toward a faint light which grew brighter once they rounded a corner and found themselves in a low, dirt room stuffed with blankets, archery supplies, and food.
“Lie down here,” Keisen ordered, waving at a makeshift bed in one corner.
Zhadeyn helped Graeden over to it and eased him down onto his back. Keisen turned up a lamp and lit an old wood stove.
“You must be starving,” the doctor said quietly. “Zhadeyn, why don't you tend the fire here so we can get some stew going while I see to your husband's wounds?”
“No!” Graeden said, a little too loudly. He winced and lowered his voice. “No, that's alright. I'll see to them myself if you have any supplies.”
Keisen eyed the gaping wound in his leg and asked, “Are you sure?”
Graeden nodded. “I'd prefer some answers.”
“Very well,” Keisen said, moving over to a large case and pulling o
ut bandages, a bottle of antiseptic, a needle, and stitching. “Zhadeyn and I are nearly all that remains of the rebel movement that was started over seventy-five years ago. I can only assume you are descended from that movement, since you couldn't otherwise have our abilities, being Agori.”
“How did you know I have your abilities?” Graeden asked, watching the doctor as he set the supplies next to Graeden on the bed.
“Well, your mind wasn't the most secure when you first arrived here,” Keisen said. “I'm not sure who else could tell, but there were times when things got out, and I realized they were coming from you. Then, there was the outbreak, of course. I watched you communicate with Zhadeyn. You'd learned a lot by then. Stronger abilities, and also stronger defenses. I no longer felt any leaks from your mind.”
The doctor gestured at the medical supplies, and Graeden picked up the antiseptic and a cloth, applying it to his wounds as he set the torn rag aside. He let out a growl, squeezed his eyes shut, then looked up at Keisen.
“Go on.”
“Well, you see, Zhadeyn–” He glanced over at her, and shook his head. “She's fallen asleep.”
Graeden looked toward the stove and saw Zhadeyn curled up on the ground with a makeshift fire poker still in her hand.
“No, let her rest,” Graeden said as Keisen moved toward her. “You were saying?”
While Graeden cleaned and inspected the wound in his thigh, Keisen crouched down beside him and continued: “Zhadeyn came to me one day at the hospital, telling me that her brother, Zevic, told her about this scheme to bring Agori doctors to the Isle. Now, Zevic had always been part of the rebellion, even though he worked directly with the Elders. He was so convincing. We thought he was on our side, working as a mole in their midst. Turned out it was the other way around.”
Graeden snorted. “Why am I not surprised.”
“When Zevic told me of the scheme, he was very convincing that the idea was to bring you all here so you could start spreading ideas, wake people up, make them think, cause an uprising or at least help the rebellion grow again. And on the flip side, he had the Elders convinced that the point was to keep the doctors here, so we'd have access to your skills and knowledge—obviously, far beyond anything we have.