by Amy Braun
I batted his hand away. “Don’t blame me,” I fired back. “You’re the one who charged headfirst into a fight with monsters. I was trying to make sure you didn’t actually get your head torn off.”
Sawyer frowned, but I saw the glimmer in his tawny eyes. “I’m a pirate,” he reminded, “I’m supposed to dive headfirst into danger.”
Before I could offer him a snide remark, Sawyer clasped my hands and pulled me to my feet. I grimaced as I drew myself up, feeling the bruises stretch along my sides. Sawyer put his fingers under my chin and turned my face to look at the forming bruise.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked, frowning.
I slowly pushed his hand down. “Fine. Besides, there’s nothing you can do to heal it.”
Sawyer didn’t like that answer, his frown deepening. But he dropped his hand and stepped back. He slid his sword into the scabbard on his back and turned to show me the corpse of the Hellion he killed. A huge slash lined the monsters face, nearly splitting it in two halves. I shuddered at the brutal sight, shifting my gaze to the awfully thin man in the corner.
He sat on the ground with his hands wrapped around his knees, rocking back and forth and staring straight ahead with wide eyes. As I steadily walked closer, I saw him tremble and could hear him muttering under his breath.
“… the engine, we fuel the engine, we fuel the engine…”
I knelt down in front of him, glad to be relieved of the mask so he wouldn’t scream the sight of me.
“Are you hurt?” I asked in my softest voice.
“I can’t go in the engine, I don’t want to be fuel,” he looked at me, his eyes bulging with fear. “Don’t let me be fuel!”
I hesitated, not sure what he was talking about until I looked at the furnace. It was hard to see at first, but soon I recognized the shapes burning in the flame. The blackened arms, legs, torsos and heads thrown in the fire to serve as kindling for the dreadful ship.
Unwilling to look at the flames any longer, I focused on the mumbling survivor.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Claire, we don’t have time for this,” Sawyer said impatiently.
I ignored him and looked into the man’s wide, scared eyes. “I’m Claire,” I told him before pointing over my shoulder. “That’s Sawyer. We can get you out of here, but we need your help.”
Sawyer reached me quicker than I anticipated, clutching my shoulder tightly. “What are you doing?”
I shot him a glance over my shoulder. “Saving a life in the hope of saving more. He may know the layout of the ship, which can get us closer to taking it down.” My heart hammered with the next thought. “He might know where the others are.”
Sawyer frowned deeply, clearly not liking the risk. “Look at him, Claire. He’s broken.”
I left the man and rose to my feet, balling my fists at my aide as I glared at the marauder. “We came here to save people. He might be able to help us. Doesn’t that make him worth saving?”
“He’ll lose his mind if he sees another Hellion. He can’t fight. He’ll be a burden.”
My hands clenched tighter. “We are not leaving him.”
Sawyer fixed a harsh gaze on me, but I didn’t back down. If he was so determined to do the right thing, to hit the Hellions where it hurt, this was the best way to do so. Sawyer might have seen that if he weren’t so hell-bent on revenge.
“Riley.”
I whirled around at the whispered voice, looking at the man in the corner.
“My name is Riley.”
Forgetting about Sawyer, I knelt in front of Riley. He cringed at first but relaxed when he saw I meant him no harm.
“Can you help us, Riley? Do you know the ship well?”
“How long have you been here?” asked Sawyer, not bothering to hide his skepticism, or his suspicion.
Riley paused to think. “Once I got the routine of how they fed me and when they took me out, I started marking the walls of my cell,” he said. “Every day, with my nails or blood from any wounds…” His eyes widened and grew distant again. “I’ve been here for two years.” A tremor filled his voice. “They wanted to make me fuel.”
My heart broke for him. I clutched his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
“I won’t let them hurt you, Riley. I promise.”
Riley stiffened at first, looking in my eyes to see if I was lying. Then he gripped my hand so tightly I thought he would break it.
“You’ll get me out of here?” he whispered.
Sawyer sighed dramatically behind me, but I ignored him and told Riley yes. He relaxed, hope filtering into his eyes for perhaps the first time in two years. I carefully stood up, bringing Riley with me. I started to hand him a knife, hilt first, when Sawyer appeared at my side and snatched it away. I pinned him with an angry glare.
“No weapons,” Sawyer explained harshly. He gave Riley a scathing look. “Not until he holds up his end of the bargain. Which I don’t agree with, by the way.”
“Fair enough,” Riley said uneasily, clearly uncomfortable around Sawyer. He quickly turned his eyes on me.
Now that I could see him better, I noticed that he was probably around Sawyer’s age, just a little older than me. His hair was a pale shade of blond stained with dirt. Despite his clear emaciation, he looked lean and strong. Angry scars lined his stomach and chest, like a Hellion had taken joy in trying to rip him apart. Puncture scars lined his neck, evidence that he’d been bitten multiple times by more than one Hellion. Clear blue eyes gauged and considered me, though I could see the hidden fear in them as he stood alone in the furnace room.
“Take us to the other captives, please,” I asked.
Riley nodded and briskly walked to the right wall. He avoided Sawyer’s hard glare as he moved to a door we hadn’t had the time to notice earlier. I was following Riley when Sawyer grabbed my elbow and pulled me back.
“I don’t trust him,” he muttered.
I had to restrain from rolling my eyes. “Look at the state he’s in. He wouldn’t work with the Hellions.”
Sawyer’s eyes intensified. “They’ve had him for two years. I seriously doubt he would have lived that long if they weren’t using him for something.”
I scowled and jerked free from Sawyer. “He’s a prisoner, Sawyer. He deserves to be free.”
Sawyer’s anger dissipated, turning into sadness when he said, “Even prisoners can have secrets.”
I wasn’t sure what Sawyer was trying to suggest, and I didn’t care. We had found someone who could lead us through the Behemoth and give us a better edge. I wasn’t about to waste more time arguing Sawyer’s paranoia. Riley was proof that there could be more than one survivor here, and I refused to leave anyone behind, no matter what their secrets were.
Chapter 13
Riley moved quickly, leading us down a dark corridor that seemed to snake through the bowels of the ship. Despite the poor condition of his body, the survivor ran with purpose, probably understanding that the sooner he helped us, the sooner we would lead him to freedom and safety.
“Where are you taking us?” Sawyer whispered aggressively behind me, trying to talk to Riley while hiding his voice from any Hellions that might be nearby.
Riley stopped and turned around, looking past me to Sawyer. I could barely see his face in the darkness, but when he spoke, the fear in his voice was obvious.
“They keep all the food in a single room.”
“You mean the survivors,” Sawyer corrected bitterly.
“That’s not what the Hellions see us as. Our blood is food for them. When they drain us, they turn our remains into fuel. Stay with them long enough, and you’ll think the same thing, too.”
I pictured Sawyer’s angry scowl before turning back to Riley. “Will there be any Hellions inside this room?”
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “They aren’t supposed to be because of the Vesper, but Hellions don’t always abide by the rules.”
“What
is the Vesper?” I asked.
Riley shook his head. “Not what. Who. The Vesper is the king. The leader of the Hellions.”
My heart skipped a beat. We were standing in the ship that belonged to the ruler of the Hellions. The thought both amazed and horrified me.
“Is he here?” I asked.
“No. He’s not on this ship. I have no idea where he is. I’ve never met him, only heard about him.”
“How do you know this?” Sawyer whispered. He sounded just as nervous as I did.
Riley lowered his head. “I overheard it. Some of the stronger Hellions speak Aonian. Spend enough time around the monsters and they’ll be happy to tell you their secrets. They don’t think you’ll live long enough to tell anyone else.”
Hearing the old pain in his voice made me want to offer a comfort to Riley. I couldn’t begin to imagine what he had been through, or how much he was risking for us. Before I could offer my sympathies or some kind words, Riley lifted his head.
“We’re almost there,” he told us. “Are you sure you want to do this? We can still turn back. We can escape now.”
“Nothing has changed,” I replied without hesitation. “Why would it?”
“I’m just trying to warn you,” defended Riley. “You’re not going to like what you find in here.”
My lips pressed into a firm line and my hands tightened into fists. “My sister is here. I’m not leaving without her.”
Riley watched me for a moment, as if he thought I would change my mind. When I didn’t budge, he nodded once and turned down the hall again. I followed close to his heels, though my heart was beating dangerously in my chest. I knew that I would be horrified by whatever condition I found Abby in, but what could it do for this Vesper?
I shook my head slightly, trying to push the thought from my mind. I was about to steal from the most powerful monster in Westraven and destroy one of his ships. I knew there would be repercussions for that, but I didn’t care about them right now. The only thought that would keep me from losing myself in a mind-numbing panic was finding Abby alive and taking her far away from here.
Riley stopped in front of a door, which had barely visible edges lining against the walls. He reached out to put his hand on the door handle, then glanced back at me. I could see him silently asking if I was prepared, and I nodded. It didn’t matter if I actually was or not. Abby was here, just one door away from me. I had to accept that she was alive. Anything else… It wasn’t even worth thinking about.
Riley turned to the door and pushed down on the handle, grunting with effort as it screeched open. I winced at the sound, hoping he could push the door open without making more noise. He was having difficulty moving its weight, until Sawyer brushed past me and added his muscle to the door. In a matter of seconds, both men had pushed it open, revealing a cool room lit by bleak yellow light bulbs. A dull humming noise bounced off the cold metal walls, coming from some kind of machine. The shadows in the room were thick, but there was enough light for me to see the horrors beyond.
Rows upon rows of metal plates about the size of a man lined the lengthy, towering walls, each with leather straps that stretched from left to right on the top and bottom of the plates. Held in place by those straps were half naked humans with more than a dozen needles in their bodies. The needles stabbed into their necks, chest, arms, and legs, everywhere a main source of blood could be found. The clear tubes steadily pumped fresh blood into a blocky, black electrical mechanism at the base of the metal plates. The tubes connected to the black box snaked along the blood-spotted floor and connected to a large tank filled with thick red liquid.
So much blood, I thought with horror. So much… Too much…
Forcing my eyes away from the huge tank, I saw an even larger circuit breaker next to it. The breaker was lined with numbers and lights, some glowing green while a couple blinked red. I looked at the survivors, watching the short, slow rise and fall of their chests. Some of these people were still alive, while some weren’t moving at all.
There were at least a hundred victims.
Horror and sickness filled me, almost making me vomit. Men, women, boys, and girls of all ages, though most were no older than seventeen.
Children, so many children, stolen from their homes, captured and tortured, their blood filling a tank that was twice as tall as I was. I didn’t even want to think about what Hellions– or the Vesper– would do with so much blood.
Riley was right. I didn’t like what I’d found. I hated it.
Steeling myself, I looked around the room, my eyes stopping at the circuit breaker again. The plate beside it held a little girl with unkempt blonde curls, dressed in an oversized shirt. The tubes and needles on her body were too large, seeming to be connected to every inch of her. I couldn’t see her chest rising. My heart went to my throat.
Abby.
I ran for my sister, stopping in front of her plate. I clutched her shoulders as gently as I could.
“Abby! Abby!”
She didn’t answer.
Tears blurred my vision, and I struggled to breathe. I stared at the tube in her neck, watching it drain the life from my sister’s body. I grabbed it and steadied myself to tear it out.
“Claire, wait!”
I glared at Sawyer over my shoulder. Riley was standing beside him, looking apologetic and uneasy.
“Find a way to stop the machine,” Sawyer said reasonably, stepping closer.
He was right, damn it. The sight of my sister’s closed eyes and the needles in her ashen skin made me lose focus. I took a deep breath and stepped back. Forcing myself not to look at her, I turned to the humming circuit breaker. Near the bottom was a square piece bolted onto an otherwise solid chunk of iron. I looked at Riley.
“What will happen if I stop the machine? Will they all die?”
He paused to think, then said, “I don’t think so. The Hellions come in here every few hours to feed them intravenously and remove any unwanted fluids. They want to make sure the food stays as fresh as possible. That’s why they try to take children so often. They can keep them in this state longer, extend their life so they produce more blood… I’m sorry, Claire.”
When he trailed off, I realized that I was crying. Tears streamed down my cheeks, my heart breaking when I looked at my little sister again. My entire soul felt shattered. I’d done everything I could to protect her, to hide her from the horrible monsters in the sky, and it hadn’t been enough. It hadn’t been nearly enough. She would have nightmares for the rest of her life.
“Help her, Sawyer,” I begged in a trembling whisper.
The marauder put his hand on my shoulder, steadying me.
“Shut down the machine. We’ll take care of the rest.”
Having a purpose pulled me away from the horror I was facing. I knelt down in front of the circuit breaker and drew a screwdriver from my belt. The bolts were easy to remove, dropping with soft clatters onto the floor. I peeled away the panel and studied the wires inside.
There were hundreds of them, but past the smaller wires was one large black cord about the size of a closed fist. The power cable. Just what I needed.
I reached inside the opened panel and felt around the bottom of the cord. It was attached to the floor by four heavier bolts. Still holding the screwdriver, I put my second hand inside the machine. It was difficult to work both of my arms in the small, square hole, but I managed to find the first bolt and twist it out.