“We’ll have the advantage of surprise. If we can take a couple out in the first moments and secure a weapon, the odds will be even.”
Romy let out a slow breath. “Risky.”
Tina nodded. “Yes, but I can’t think of anything else. You’re usually strapped down all day. And there’s no way I can get back here when I’m out in meetings with Houston to free you guys.”
After a careful check down both ends of the hall, Elara came to join them. “We could use the fire alarm, too,” she whispered.
Tina and Romy turned to her.
“There’s one just down the hall.”
Tina and Romy got up and peered out. Sure enough, two metres to the right was a red box fitted between two pipes on the wall.
“If we could get out of the cell, it might create the chaos we need to make it out,” Romy said.
“Ideally, we’d sneak out and get a head start with them none the wiser, but it’s better than nothing,” Tina said, hands clasped behind her back. She paced back and forth for a minute before repeating, “Okay. This is what we’ll do.”
The three women crouched in the middle of the concrete cell and pressed their heads together.
* * *
Over the next week, they noticed three things.
One, there was a gap between when Romy or Tina were taken out of the door, and when the door was closed. They were moved out between four of the guards while two locked the barred door again. Romy and Tina couldn’t handle six armed guards, but three of them stood a chance against six in a confined space, if they used surprise, and managed to get ahold of a weapon.
Two, Romy couldn’t be sure what testing they were doing each day, and whether or not she’d be in a healthy state to escape at the end of the day.
Three, none of them had any idea how to secure a craft to get back to Ireland. If they couldn’t find anything to contact the Amach with, the closest allies were in Cuba. They’d have to make it there and hopefully find a settlement to contact Atlas from.
Romy focused on her surroundings—the lab, just for something new.
“Today, you’ll be going under for a little procedure,” Houston said, nearing her with a mask. It explained why he’d left the ball gag off today.
“What procedure?” she asked. They hadn’t put her under yet.
“Just taking a few eggs,” he said. “Nothing you’ll miss. Fertile as you are.”
Her eyes widened and she bucked against the restraints. “No. I don’t agree to that.”
He shoved the mask over her face and she held her breath, trying to free herself. The pressure in her lungs built, but she refused to take a breath, pushing the last of the air out of her nose.
Black spots appeared before her eyes, but Romy held on to her control. She wouldn’t breathe.
Houston lifted the mask in annoyance, and her head lolled against the bed as she took a huge gulp of air.
“Stubborn fool.” He turned away. “Inject it into her IV.”
Romy screamed at him and the two doctors who appeared at her side.
Her tongue grew heavy, and her words slurred.
Black ebbed over her sight.
* * *
“You all right, Ro?” Elara asked from her bed.
Romy was curled in a ball around her cramping stomach. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she lied. She just needed a night to absorb what he’d done to her, and his parting comment in the lab. “Minus one hymen, Rosemary. My, my, it looks like you and Atlas have been having fun.”
He’d taken some of her eggs, and Romy felt sick, wondering if he meant to build an army out of her children. Or did he plan to use her eggs to find a permanent cure? She had no idea. Romy swallowed down a bout of nausea.
“Are you sure, Ro?”
Romy smiled at her. “I’m sure, just tired.” Houston couldn’t find out about Elara’s pregnancy.
Tina was ushered back into the cell. She’d been behaving for Houston all week, and the guards had stopped pushing her around. Once the soldiers disappeared, she and Elara gathered at Romy’s bed.
“Did you ask what they’re doing with you tomorrow?” Tina asked.
“They knocked me out today—didn’t get a chance.”
Tina’s brows slammed together. “What’d they do to you?”
Romy hesitated. “I’ll tell you when we get out.”
“You said you were fine,” Elara accused, rolling on her back. The action sent a jolt of pain to Romy’s stomach and she winced. Tina and Elara lowered their eyes to her legs, and they glanced back at Romy’s pale face.
Elara started breathing fast, her face twisted with anger. “I’m going to kill that fucker,” she said.
“Keep your voice down,” Tina scolded her.
“He took eggs,” Romy admitted. She should have known better than to try to keep something from these two; they were like freakin’ bulldogs.
Tina was quick to ask the pertinent question. “Why? Army, or cure?”
Romy shrugged. “No idea.”
“Why keep the space soldiers if he means to make his army from you,” she mused, then narrowed her gaze. “Hmm, maybe a backup plan.”
“You think so?”
Tina sat. “Just thinking aloud. There’s no way to know, is there?”
Footsteps sounded down the hall and the women fell quiet. Houston appeared, pacing before the door, in and out of sight. “Evening,” he said.
They didn’t answer.
“Evening!” he shouted at them.
“Jesus,” Tina said. But her instincts clearly told her the same thing as Romy’s. Tread carefully. “What do you want?”
“Your commander-general is making a few problems for me,” he spat. “And the Mandate.”
Romy smirked.
“Why doesn’t he stay out of it? It’s not time yet.” Houston muttered to himself wildly. “Gives me no choice.” He stopped in front of their door. “Gives me no choice.” His eyes landed on Elara. “No choice.”
Romy’s mouth dried, and she pushed Tina aside to free herself from the blankets. Houston’s hand slid to the pocket of his stained lab coat, and he withdrew a gun.
“You.” He jerked the gun at Elara. “You’re coming with me.”
Romy shifted in front of her knotmate. Tina came up next to her. “Why are you taking her?” Romy asked. “This is the first time you’ve taken Elara out.”
Spittle flew from his mouth. “Now!”
“Are you going to shoot us?” Tina asked with a laugh. “Aren’t we crucial to your plan?”
He clicked off the safety and pointed it at her head.
Romy’s blood ran cold at the look in his eye. Unhinged. He would shoot Tina in this state of mind. She felt it. Just like Feral Romy would’ve done it without hesitation.
Elara spoke in a firm tone. “I’m coming. Don’t shoot her.”
“Ellie,” she hissed over her shoulder.
Elara spoke. “It will be fine. Won’t it, Houston? I’ll be fine with you?” She moved forward and gave Romy a pointed look.
Houston didn’t answer.
Romy blinked as she deciphered her knotmate’s intentions.
Houston was the only person in the hall and he was about to open the door and take Elara out. She sucked in a breath. He had a gun, and he wasn’t stupid, but the odds were much better than having six guards to fight.
As Houston trained the weapon on Elara and began to open the door, Romy shot a careful look at Tina, who gave her a barely perceptible nod.
“Commander, sir,” a voice panted.
The door froze a quarter of the way open. “What?” Houston snapped.
“Sir, you asked to be updated as soon as possible.”
Houston closed the door and spoke without turning to the out-of-breath person.
“We’ve lost a fifth encampment of Critamal to the bombing tonight, sir. The Mandate’s doing.”
Five encampments? Her body buzzed with hope. The Amach and Mandate were fighting back. They were atta
cking Houston’s force.
“Five, you say?”
The person gulped audibly. “Yes, sir. We’ve dispatched our air force to the other main locations. We’ve also sent out a general warning to ask the Critamal to move underground for now. But . . . you know how they are about being underground, sir. The Mandate is picking them off, targeting the largest encampments.”
Houston’s fingers tightened around the butt of his gun. “This isn’t the work of the Mandate,” he said in a voice that made the hair on Romy’s arms rise. “It’s Atlas.” He released the safety and holstered his weapon.
Romy’s shoulders relaxed slightly when the doctor moved off down the hall.
“Bring the brown-haired girl to my office,” Houston called back to the young man still in the passage.
The young man was more lucid than his leader. He disappeared for five minutes and reappeared with the usual six-strong escort.
All three of them deflated at the sight.
Romy pulled her knotmate close. “Don’t let him know.”
Elara licked her lips, trembling in her arms. “I won’t.”
“And don’t provoke him,” she said quickly.
Elara kissed her cheek and moved to the door.
They went through the same routine, placing her at the front with four guards while two remained to lock the door. Tina approached the bars. “You got this, Spitfire.”
In moments, Elara was gone and the passage was silent.
Romy sat on the edge of the bed, clutching the strands of her hair in tight fists.
“Worrying doesn’t help her,” Tina said, perching beside Romy on the bed.
“Yet, worry I do,” Romy answered sarcastically.
“That’s your job, mother hen.” Tina nudged her. “It’s harder to stay behind. Action is easy, but to be parted from someone you love, knowing they’re in danger, that’s far harder. Our girl Ellie has been doing it for nearly two weeks. So, guess what, you don’t get to worry about her. You just need to suck it up, be there for her when she returns, and help me get us the fuck out of here tomorrow night.”
Romy lifted her head slowly, staring at Tina in the dimness of their cell. “Tomorrow night?” she repeated.
Tina’s eyes gleamed. “Houston and the Critamal are distracted. Seems like perfect timing to me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The cell door creaked open and a pale-faced Elara walked through.
Romy waited until the door was closed and the guards were out of sight before running to her and hugging her gently. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just tired.”
That wasn’t surprising; it had to be near morning. “What happened?”
Elara sighed and collapsed on the bed. Tina listened silently from her bed. “He did a big speech on the cameras and made me say a bunch of lies.” A ghost of a smile curved her lips. “It didn’t go too well, and he ended up holding a gun to my head on live stream.”
Tina sat. “You genius.”
“Right?”
Romy glanced between them in horror. “You shouldn’t have—”
Elara groaned. “Ro, you do it all the time. Don’t be a hypocrite.”
Her jaw clicked shut.
“All right, Spitfire,” Tina called. “Get some sleep. You’ll need your strength.”
Hazel eyes cracked open. “Yeah?”
The three women shared a determined look. They were going to do their damnedest to get out of this place.
Romy returned to bed, but sleep eluded her. If anything happened to Elara and the baby, she’d never forgive herself. Hopefully, this time tomorrow they’d be out of this place and on their way to Cuba. They would wait until people were winding down and heading to their rooms to sleep. When the halls were emptier. Though it all depended on what happened in Romy’s bout of testing today—she might not be in the right shape to run for her life.
. . . If Houston had aimed a gun at Tina’s head over the bombings of the Critamal encampments, what would he do if he caught them trying to escape?
She jerked awake as breakfast was shoved under the door.
Romy sat and wobbled toward it.
“Anything good?” Tina asked, awake and alert.
“Cold toast and jam, and lukewarm tea.”
Elara was dead to the world.
“Rosemary,” a guard said from the door. The usual contingency had arrived.
She shoved a piece of toast into her mouth, and chewed on it as they marched her to the labs.
Doctors milled around the room as she was strapped to the table.
There was no sign of Houston. “Where’s the bigwig?” she asked.
They shoved the ball gag in her mouth. Nice to see them following Houston’s example. To this day, Charlee was the only doctor she’d ever liked and trusted.
Today they tested combinations on her. Needle jab in her thumb webbing, with a jolt of current. That was the morning. The afternoon was spent on the treadmill, running and being stabbed. They studiously noted the readings from the screens, but she could’ve told them the jab of a needle while being shocked with electricity made her go from angry to furious in a nanosecond.
Somehow, she managed to refrain from attacking them by focusing on what would be happening that night.
They unstrapped her and removed her gag.
She grabbed a tissue and spat out the gathered saliva into it. She balled it up and threw it in the open bin by the bed. She reached for another one and a radio transmitter caught her eye in the front pocket of a doctor’s coat. Sawyer. He was Houston’s favourite, likely because he did everything asked of him without question.
Romy wiped her mouth with the fresh tissue. If they had a radio transmitter, they could probably contact the Amach once outside. . . .
Taking Sawyer’s was tempting, but the plan was more likely to fail than succeed and if she were searched before going back into the cell, the game would be up. Once they had weapons, it wouldn’t be hard to secure one from one of the six guards, if they managed to take them out.
Romy chucked the tissue away and noticed a syringe next to the tissues. The needle was sealed in a packet; it was one that had to be assembled. For the doctors to have left it there was a huge oversight—not that the syringe could be used against them without her opening the packet and assembling it. Romy darted a look around. The guards were at the door and the doctors turned to see who was entering. Romy reached for another tissue and snagged the syringe. She turned so her back was to the raised head of the bed and shoved it down the back of her filthy coveralls, feeling it fall until it reached the elastic waistband.
She held the tissue to her face as Sawyer glanced back at her, and released a shaky breath when he turned away.
The guards marched Romy away from the lab, in the direction of the prison cell. They were more distracted than she’d seen them yet. Hopefully that worked in her favour and allowed her to get the syringe back to the cell.
“More attacks?” she asked them.
A couple of them looked at her and glanced away.
“Does Houston plan to kill the Critamal once the Renegades win?” she tried again.
More than one of the guards threw her a suspicious look.
The head guard answered, “Enough questions.”
Romy waited a few minutes. “Whose idea was it to hide under the sand in Cairo and ambush us?”
An uncomfortable ripple moved through the escort. She interpreted that to mean that idea came from the Critamal.
Never once in years of fighting the Critamal had Romy underestimated the aliens’ intelligence. In her opinion, it was the scariest thing about them. A poacher’s brain was four times the size of a human brain and encased in a skull stronger than steel. Animal species evolved over time to become stronger and take advantage of niches in the environment. They should all be questioning why the skull of a Critamal had evolved to be so strong.
“Enough questions,” the head guard snapped. He stopped and rounded on R
omy.
Romy smiled at him, and he gave her a look of disgust before turning away.
They neared the cell and Romy tried to keep her cool as she waited for them to open the door. The syringe packet burned against her lower back.
A guard waved her inside.
She entered the cell and walked slowly to the bed, listening as the head guard locked the door and moved away down the passage before relaxing. They hadn’t patted her down.
“Nothing bad today,” she said to the two others, who watched her.
Tina’s deep green eyes narrowed at her odd tone.
Romy plucked the back of her coveralls, shaking her body, and felt the syringe packet slide down her right trouser leg. She drew the packet out, lifting a brow, and shoved it under her pillow.
The other women grinned.
* * *
“Is it me, or does Houston usually send for you by now?” Elara asked a few hours later.
“Yes,” Tina said, teeth clenched.
She wasn’t the only one getting cabin fever. They’d been locked in this room for two weeks now. They’d declared their intention to escape tonight, and it was an itch under Romy’s skin. She wanted out of these four walls.
Romy had assembled the syringe and handed it to Tina hours ago. She’d have the hardest job . . . if the guards ever came to collect her.
Footsteps echoed down the passage. Romy lifted her head, then turned to the others. This was it.
“You ladies ready?” Tina asked.
“Beyond ready,” Elara said.
“Let’s do it,” Romy whispered.
She shifted so she was at the edge of her bed. Elara sat on the floor by the door, picking at her boots in faux boredom. She’d been sitting there the last few days, so the guards would get used to her position there. The thing about locking Tina in a room and then doing the same thing each day was that she was a natural fighter and a strategist, and also a she-demon. Elara and Romy had been schooled in exactly what to do when all hell broke loose.
Romy tried to keep her shoulders relaxed, staring as a guard called Tina over and put the key in the door.
Tina slipped out and Romy stood, moving to the doors and saying, “I need to talk to Houston.”
The Reprisal Page 17