Tucking her anger deep down and saving it for later, she watched him as he started his familiar routine in silence.
“You’ll be happy to know I ate every morsel of my meal today. The gruel could stand to be cooked a bit longer, but it wasn’t half bad.”
He glanced over in surprise, whether it was from her words or the change in subject, she couldn’t tell. “Good. I really am not your enemy, you know. If you only met me halfway, I can ease your stay here.”
She nodded as if agreeing, keeping her distaste hidden. “I’m realizing that now. I never was the sharpest tool in the shed. My kin always tell me I speak first and think later. Forgive my earlier outburst. I was just shocked, I guess.”
She smiled at him in what she hoped was a non-threatening manner, instead of her usual baring of teeth. He didn’t need to see how much she wanted to rip his head off. It must have sufficed since he smiled back.
“I’m glad you’re starting to see things my way, 2066.”
“Rease,” she said quietly.
“What?”
“My name is Rease. Not 2066 or New Blood, but Rease. If you’re gonna drain me of my blood every few days, we may as well be acquainted.”
“Rease,” he repeated, as if testing it out. Then stepping toward her, he stuck his hand in her face, causing her to pull back in alarm. He ignored her moment of panic. Instead he smiled down at her. “Nice to finally meet you, Rease.”
Finally realizing his intention, she shook the offered hand. Her sham of a smile still in place, the only thought running rampant in her head was how he was going to regret ever uttering those words.
4
The gifts became more constant. Books turned into better food, warmer blankets, and clean linen for her cot. Through it all, Rease continued to smile at the doc and thank him for his thoughtfulness. She never gave him a hard time anymore about the blood-letting or questioned his morality. She kept her distaste and revulsion hidden inside, all the while earning his trust. And she knew he was falling for it. His visits with her increased to the point where it wasn’t about blood collecting at all. He’d come see her just to discuss the latest book he’d given her or to bring a simple treat such as an apple. An apple. She hadn’t seen fresh fruit in years, but he always seemed to have some handy. For all his talk and pomp about the world dying, this little part of the world didn’t seem to be suffering much at all. But she kept her thoughts to herself.
Knowing a blood-letting session was due today; Rease wasn’t the least surprised when she heard the door to her cell open. She was surprised however, when she glanced up from her book to find the greasy-haired guard and one other she hadn’t seen before. A cold shiver of fear shook her thin frame as Greasy’s eyes looked her up and down and sneered her way.
“Stand up,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because I said so, Mutie.”
“No, I don’t think so. Not unless you tell me why.” She placed the book carefully aside, preparing herself.
“Why?” He smiled as he rubbed his hands together. “Because your presence is requested upstairs, that’s why.”
“What do you… get your hands off me!” The other guard crossed the tiny cell in two strides and yanked her to a standing position. She tried to jerk away, but fingers grabbed her arm with a steel grip that threatened to snap her bones. Greasy stopped in front of her and grinned, the remains of his last meal still stuck between his teeth. “I wondered why it took so long for them to ask for you. You’ve been lucky so far, Mutie, but looks like your luck has run out.”
Before she could resist, he captured her other arm and started dragging her out of the cell. She wanted to fight, to scream, to kick them in their damned dangly bits, but fear and blood loss made her weak. Was this it? Had she finally come to the end of her usefulness? Had she waited too damn long to put her plan into action?
Rease didn’t utter a word as she was dragged by the other cells and occupants who shared the prison with her. Some watched through their glass cages as they hurried her by while others stared off blankly into space, not caring about her fate in the least.
The stone floor was strangely warm under her bare feet, and the sound of the guards’ boots slapping against the surface competed with her ragged breaths. At the end of the corridor, they stopped in front of a steel door. There was no handle or knob, just a button that lit up as Greasy pushed it and almost instantly the door slid open to reveal another tiny box, which they proceeded to pull her into. She bit back the scream lodged in her throat as the floor seemed to move, lifting them up with an unnatural ascent. She had heard stories about these moving boxes but had never in a million years thought them to be real. Her brain struggled to remember the word for this curious contraption but had no time to register for as quickly as the movement began, it stopped again, and the doors opened with a subdued ding.
The light that met her unprepared eyes almost burnt out her retinas, and she squeezed them tight.
Sunlight.
How long had it been since she’d seen natural light? Forcing her eyes back open, she almost cried in relief as the evening rays filtering through the glass windows bathed her in their calming warmth. Even with the looming possibility of going to her death, she couldn’t pull her eyes away from the beautiful sunset happening outside. If she really was about to die, she wanted the glorious pink sky to be the last image in her head instead of the meat stuck in Greasy’s teeth.
All too soon she was moved past the windows and brought up in front of another door, this one a dark wood instead of steel. After the bright sunlight in the hallway, the darkness of this new room was almost suffocating. The warmth she had just experienced evaporated immediately as the cold damp of this room seeped into her skin. Unlike the warm tiles below, this floor was slimy and slippery. She slid the last couple of feet as she was pushed toward the other four women already huddled in the center of the room. Their filthy clothes and mirrored images of Rease’s own fear told her they were all prisoners, just like her.
“Is that the last one?” A bored voice asked as an old man stepped out of the dim corner, and Greasy turned his way.
“Yeah, that’s all on the list. Ain’t much to look at, are they?”
A chorus of raucous laughter followed the remark, filtering from every corner of the room.
“Well, they’s muties soooo…”
“They stink to high heaven. Filthy mutants,” the voice of a woman chimed in, but there was no concern or softness in the voice, just a cold note of disgust.
“That’s why they’re here, ain’t it?” Greasy snorted at the unseen woman in the dark before turning his attention back to Rease and the others. “Okay, ladies. Time to strip.”
Rease stared back in part confusion and part defiance. Did he really just ask them to undress? The woman closest to her left started to cry, and she knew she wasn’t mistaken about the request.
Greasy stepped closer and leaned Rease’s way. “Are you deaf as well as stupid, girl? I said take it all off.”
“Why don’t you go fuck yourself, asshole?”
Her voice was soft, but the hand that struck her cheek certainly was not. The slap snapped her neck back, and Rease bit her lip to stop herself from crying out or reaching for the stinging skin. She gave him no such satisfaction. Instead she met his stare head on, hiding her fear. His eyes glittered with glee as he pulled a serrated blade from his belt and dug the tip into her cheek.
“I was hoping you’d fight back, Mutie. I like it when they fight.”
The old man stepped between her and the guard and grabbed Greasy’s arm. “You know we aren’t supposed to mark their faces, Olsen.”
“I know that. I can hurt them in places the others won’t see,” he answered, his stare never leaving Rease’s face.
The other man sighed and pushed the knife off of her cheek. Only then did Rease allow herself to breathe again. She glanced her saviour’s way. His wrinkled face showed none of the excitement Greasy’s containe
d, just a sad weariness. “Please do as he asks. If you don’t co-operate, he will cut your clothes off and hurt you in the process. He will hurt them all.”
That only caused the sobbing to increase behind her, and Rease had to force herself not to turn her anger on the stupid, crying woman. Instead she did as asked, focusing her hatred on the guard in front of her as she yanked the dirty garment over her head, his laughter grating along her spine.
As if Rease was the catalyst, the other women followed suit and soon the pile of rags at their feet was all that remained of their stripped away dignity. The women tried their best to cover themselves with their hands and arms but Rease refused. Instead she stood as tall as she could and stared back at the mocking eyes in the darkness with hatred burning fierce in her gut.
Suddenly a blast of frigid water struck her in the chest, the iciness cutting into her flesh as sharp as any blade and shredding the air from her lungs. The water’s force pushed her back, and she slipped on the tile, falling on her backside with a painful cry. The assault didn’t stop. The spray just followed her as she tried to turn away, water smashing her face and gut with intense force. She twisted her head away so she could at least breathe and lay on the floor, unable to get back up as the jets of water threatened to rip the skin from her bones.
As suddenly as it had begun, it stopped. Rease was once again yanked to her feet. The sharp sting wore off, replaced by numbing cold and trembling that started with her legs and soon spread over the rest of her body. Even her teeth were chattering in her head, the sound so distracting she didn’t hear the command to get dressed until the thin material being handed to her was thrown, striking her in the face. Unsure what to do at first, she watched as the other woman shoved their arms through the holes in the shapeless gown and tied the strings around their necks and waist. She did the same, still trying to tie the knots with her trembling fingers even as the door opened to admit a whole other group of people.
These new arrivals were important; she could tell by the way Greasy and the rest of the soldiers came to attention. There were five of them, and they paraded past the soldiers already in the room as if they didn’t even exist.
“Are they ready to go?” one asked the old, wrinkled soldier, and the man nodded.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good.” The arrogant man’s tone indicated he would accept no other answer. Stepping past the old man, he studied Rease and the other women like they were pieces of meat on a plate. His gaze flicked over her and the others before coming back to rest on her face. Reaching out to her, he grabbed her chin and twisted her head, trying to get a better look in the low light.
“Hmmmm, this one will do—”
“No.” This new voice was familiar, and Rease was still trying to figure out why when the face came into view. Doc.
“She’s not the one, trust me.”
He then leaned toward the soldier and whispered something in his ear. Although Rease couldn’t overhear, the look of disgust on the soldiers face as he dropped his hand from her jaw told her it probably wasn’t anything flattering.
“Get her out of here,” the soldier ordered, and Greasy grabbed her arm, but the doc intervened once again.
“Thank you, gentlemen. I can handle it from here.”
With a final shove from Greasy, she stumbled against the doc and he grabbed her arm, steadying her. Without a look back, he rushed her out the door and back down the corridor. She could still feel Greasy’s fingers wrapped around her arms, and she rubbed the tender spots absently as she tried to keep up with the doc and not slip on the water dripping from her soaked hair.
“What…did you…say to him?” she whispered through chattering teeth, knowing full well he had saved her from a horrible fate. What fate, she did not know.
“Shhh,” he replied as they continued through a maze of hallways before finally reaching the end of their journey.
It was obviously his living quarters. Without pausing, he slammed the door shut with his foot and pulled her through the room to the huge hearth that sat against the far wall and the welcoming fire that burned within. Her feet sank into the plush rug that covered most of the floor as her hands reached for the warmth of the flames.
“You must be freezing,” he clucked at her in worry as he settled a heavy blanket around her shoulders, and Rease glanced back at him in gratitude. His worry increased as he reached out and touched her lip. “You’re bleeding.”
“I’m f-fine,” she chattered as she drew back from his touch, remembering he was still one of her jailers just as much as Greasy. She turned back to the flames and closed her eyes, letting the heat envelop her with its life affirming warmth. She leaned in further, the droplets of water falling from her hair and sizzling into the fire. It was the only sound in the room for a while.
Finally, he broke the silence. “I’m sorry you had to experience that.”
She met his eyes. “Me too. Especially since I don’t even know what that was. Why were we there? And what did that soldier mean, maybe I would do? Do for what?”
“I tried to keep you out of it.”
“Out of what? Why were we put on display? What’s going to happen to the rest of those women?”
His gaze faltered, and he tried to look away but Rease demanded, “Tell me, Doc.”
“They will be given to the higher chain of command as… gifts from the Prezedant.”
The way he said it made her blood run cold. “Gifts? Were they all New Bloods as well?”
He nodded. “They are all enhanced in some form, yes.”
“So by gift, you mean they’ll be the soldier’s personal blood-bags?”
“Not so much, no. The blood-letting is done by us, the medical team. Those women, you included, would be more… sexual partners.”
Her trembling had finally stopped, but the doc’s words made her flesh erupt with goose bumps all over again. “Partners? Hah. You mean sex slaves.”
“I do.”
She gave a curt nod at his candid words. “Okay then, so that rumor is true. Not the most pleasant of futures. What did you say to the soldier to get me out of there?”
He gave her a tiny smile. “I may have suggested you carried a nasty disease that needed to be looked after before you could be used.”
She stared in disbelief for a moment before a harsh laugh escaped. “Thanks, I think?”
“Anytime.”
She broke eye contact with him, torn between her gratitude and hatred for the man. No matter how human he appeared, no matter how concerned for her well-being, she was still his prisoner and those other women were still going to the fate she had narrowly avoided. She had to keep reminding herself the Doc was no better than the rest of them.
The floor to ceiling window on one side of the hearth caught her attention, and she was drawn to the red skyline outside. She moved to it, planting her hands against the cool glass, and a tiny gasp fell from his lips at what she saw.
The city lay below her, spread out in every direction like a metal cornfield. Rows upon rows of metal and glass buildings reflected the evening sun with a dazzling display of light. None of them were near as tall as the one she found herself in but still overwhelming in their numbers and spread well into the horizon.
“Where are we?” she asked. This was not Littlepass like she had hoped. Littlepass was a droplet of water in a pond compared to this. She knew the answer before he said it.
“Skytown.”
Skytown. The Prezedant’s stronghold. His fortressed, walled city. The place where captured New Bloods and muties never came back from. Her stomach dropped as she rested her head against the glass and fought to keep back the tears that finally threatened to fall.
Don’t you dare give up.
The voice resonating in her head sounded very much like Lily, even though she knew it was only wishful thinking. She hadn’t heard from any of her kin since her capture. Now she knew why. There was too much distance between her and those she loved.
Swal
lowing the lump in her throat, she turned back to face him. “Why did you save me? Why am I worthy of your attention while my noisy neighbour downstairs gets his bloodletting visitations from the guards?”
He clasped his hands, his sandy head tilted to the side as if thinking of the right words.
“Well, for one thing, you are much easier on the eyes. Have you seen him? Man has a face only a mother could love, no lie.”
She hated the snort of laughter that escaped her, even though it appeared to please him.
“For another, I enjoy your company. You are quite the conversationalist. I enjoy your—how did you put it—witty banter. And your opinion on “The Catcher in the Rye,” no matter how wrong that opinion is. It’s been a long while since I’ve found pleasure in the conversation or company of anyone.”
He stopped as if surprised at his admission, even maybe a little embarrassed. Rease crossed her arms and studied him through narrowed eyes. “So it has nothing to do with my power?”
“I won’t lie to you. Yes, you are one of the most powerful New Bloods I’ve seen in quite a while. Your blood holds so many secrets that need to be unlocked. Secrets that may just help solve some of this world’s problems.”
“Hmm, yes. Because that’s what you are doing here, right? Solving the world’s problems. What do you really do with our blood, Doc? I’ve heard stories that the Prezedant consumes it. He drinks it. Is that true?” her question ended in a whisper, as if she were almost afraid to ask it. For the first time since she’d known him, he looked nervous.
“Do not believe everything you hear, Rease. Not everything is black and white. Life’s circumstances create a lot of gray areas that are sometimes totally out of our control.”
“What the hell does that mean?” She furrowed her brow. The man had no real clue about giving a straight answer.
Blood Hunt Page 3