Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
My dry lips crack open as I yawn. It hurts. Everything hurts.
Adam yanks my hair, his movements rough as he struggles to braid the knotted strands. He’s been at this for almost ten minutes now. He’s not very good at it. Not even close.
His finger gets caught in a knot, and my head jostles as he wiggles his hand, trying to free it.
It’s been two days since Daniel came here with his teary goodbye, and I’m getting impatient. If HPAW is going to kill me, I’d like them to get it over with.
“I give up.” Adam huffs, releasing my hair.
He spoke to Caleb after our visit from Daniel. It was quick. Only five minutes of him licking inside my mouth. There was no response from Caleb. No burning of my mark. Nothing. I don’t know what that means.
I don’t have the energy to care. I haven’t been given food or water since Daniel’s visit, and Adam has been taken from the room twice for testing. They take him once a day. It’s the only way I can keep track of time.
His hands shake now, a tremor he developed yesterday.
Adam huffs, then grabs my hair again. He resumes braiding, refusing to give up. It’s almost fifteen minutes before he finishes, and he ties my ends into a makeshift knot. I suspect half of my hair has been ripped from my head, but I don’t mind.
He needs the distraction. We both do.
“Thanks,” I say.
I fight the urge to prod at the chip in my skin.
I’m the informant. I’m the reason HPAW knows everything.
I betrayed the shifters, even if unintentionally, and I’m the reason Adam is in this mess. It was stupid not to consider the possibility that HPAW had chipped me. They chip everything else. Animals. Weapons. Electronics. Why not me?
Does Adam blame me? He should. This could have all been avoided.
My fingers twitch as I sit on the bed, leaning against the wall. Adam does the same. I’m too weak to do much else.
I spend most of my time staring at nothing, making plans that will never come to fruition.
Adam taps his fingers, maybe counting to keep track of time.
Buzzing fills the room. I’m hardly surprised when Adam’s back is in front of me a second later. He’s an excellent guard dog, and I peer around him as four soldiers filter through the door. They point their weapons at us, three at Adam and one at me. How fun.
“Against the wall.”
Adam and I press our backs against the far wall. He’s still shaking, and I can’t stop myself from shooting him a worried glance as we’re ordered to spin around. He ignores my gaze, his eyes slipping shut as he presses his cheek against the wall.
He’s gotten used to the routine. That might be the worst part.
They’ll take him for about three hours. When he returns, his skin will be splotchy blue and his veins swollen. I suspect they’re testing out a new poison, one that is quickly deteriorating Adam.
How much longer before his body gives up?
Adam is injected in the neck, then his collar is removed. His eyelids flutter until he slumps to the ground, and he lands on the floor with a painful thump. I wince, waiting for the soldiers to take him.
They come for me instead.
Wrong. This is wrong. This isn’t the routine.
The one who injected Adam pins me against the wall, his lips curling into a nasty snarl as he pulls out a second needle. Fuck no. Not like this. I kick my legs, aiming for a kneecap. I kick the soldier’s shin instead, which only seems to anger him more.
He hisses, his face contorting before he slams the butt of his gun into the side of my head.
My ears ring as my head bounces off the cement wall.
White noise. Then nothing.
There’s a moment of confusion before a rough, calloused hand curls around the back of my neck and the needle is plunged into me.
The sedative is fast-acting.
I catch sight of Adam struggling to get up just as my vision tunnels.
I’m in a vehicle, sitting on a metal bench seat. The truck makes a sharp turn, and I jerk sideways. Where the hell are they taking us?
Somebody is crying. A woman. The sound only worsens my already unbearable headache. I open my mouth, trying to speak, but no sound emerges. I drag my tongue along the back of my front teeth instead, my tongue lingering on my bottom right canine.
It’s chipped. I don’t remember when that happened.
Something heavy is wrapped around my ankle. I pry open my eyes, my vision hazy, and look down. I’m chained to the seat. A safety belt is secured around my torso, the only thing keeping me upright.
I lift my head.
I’m in the back of another semi-truck. Adam is on my right, his ankle chained to the floor. A safety belt holds him upright, too. What’s happening?
Something wet touches my lip. I wipe underneath my nose, my fingers coming back red.
There’s another cry, and I lock eyes with HPAW’s blue-haired nurse. Bells. She’s sobbing, hugging her knees with red, puffy eyes.
“What’s happening?” I ask. My words are slurred.
Bells snaps her head toward me, her eyes widening before she scrambles back into her seat. Her teary expression shifts, quickly transforming into poorly concealed hatred. She’s chained by the ankle, too.
“What have you done?” Her gaze darts between Adam and me. “What did you tell them?”
I ignore her questions. I don’t have the energy for this.
Leadership clearly realized who Bells is to Adam. Were we too obvious? I don’t think so. We were careful. We gave them no reason to suspect. I didn’t, at least. I have no idea how Adam and Bells acted when he was brought to medical.
My head lolls forward.
Bells screams. “I’ve done nothing wrong!” She’s yelling at the truck driver. I highly doubt he cares to hear what she has to say. I sure don’t, and I wince as she screams again.
She continues until Adam groans, lifting his head.
Bells glares at him, pure venom in her eyes. I didn’t see that coming.
“What the fuck did you do? What lies did you tell them about me?” She kicks out her foot, rattling the chain and even further worsening my already pounding headache. “Let me out of here!”
I understand why she’s upset, I really do, but I need the crying to stop. I’m tempted to snap her femur and give her a real reason to cry.
Adam makes an odd noise in the back of his throat, and Bells pauses just long enough to ensure he’s not dying before returning to her shouting.
The truck jerks again, and I just barely resist toppling over.
Adam spreads his thighs, planting his feet firmly on the ground to keep steady.
Bells flails, her entire upper body bending in half. She catches herself, but barely. Her seatbelt is the only thing that prevents her from flying across the truck.
“Can you hear anything?” I ask Adam.
I jerk my head toward the front of the truck. Is the driver communicating with anybody? Maybe speaking through a radio?
Adam frowns, shaking his head.
“Is Caleb coming?” I ask instead.
Adam shrugs, but he doesn’t look me in the eye. He can’t tell me.
My chest deflates. I was chipped. Everything I know, HPAW knows.
Everything goes silent as the truck slows to a stop.
I make brief eye contact with Adam, then shift my focus to the back doors.
Bells continues to shout, her voice shrill as she proclaims her innocence. All I can hear is the blood rushing through my ears. This is it.
The chain around my ankle rattles, my nerves making it impossible to stay still.
I used to pride myself on my ability to remain calm under stress, but it seems I’ve lost that skill. Before, when faced with the possibility of death, I didn’t feel much emotion. If I died, it was for a good cause. I died fighting to save the humans.
But now I have a reason to live. A future with Caleb is waiting for me. I don’t want to lose that. I’m not ready to give up.
I want to believe that Caleb will be on the other side of this door, here to save us, but I refuse to get my hopes up. I can’t.
The truck’s doors are pulled open, and five HPAW soldiers storm inside.
They’re in full tactical gear, and four weapons are aimed at Adam as Bells is unchained.
The men are fidgeting, clearly aware of how dangerous this situation is.
The shifters don’t mess around when it comes to their mates, and Adam is too close for comfort.
Bells’s cries are incoherent as she mindlessly defends herself, claiming innocence. The soldier unchaining her rolls his eyes, his movements rough as he grabs her bicep and tosses her toward the back of the truck.
Adam snarls, the low sound making my teeth rattle.
He’s on his feet, quick to defend his mate. The drugs are still in his system, though, and he stumbles forward a step. He catches himself on the bench opposite us, his hand landing right where Bells was sitting just moments ago.
“Don’t touch her,” he threatens.
His head lolls, and the soldier who unchained Bells laughs as she’s forced out of the truck. Her pleading continues even as she’s out of sight, the only confirmation that she’s still alive.
Adam continues to struggle. It takes three men to chain his hands behind his back. The fourth points a gun at his head, ready to fire at the first sign of trouble. Only once Adam is properly restrained do they unchain his foot. They force him to stand, and the three men escort him out of the truck.
I’m left alone with the last soldier.
I run my tongue along the edge of my cracked tooth, using the pain as a distraction.
He sets his weapon on the bench across from me, then kneels and begins unlocking the chain at my ankle. He’s an idiot. The second the weight at my ankle vanishes, I slam my knee into the underside of his chin.
His jaw snaps shut, and I muster up every bit of strength I have and throw myself on him. I’m not stronger than this soldier, but I have the element of surprise on my side. He lands on his back. I land on his chest.
Dehydration disorients me as I grab his gun, spinning it around and slamming the butt of it into his face. Blood sprays out of his nose and eyebrow.
I do it again.
And again.
And again.
His head flattens, his face mangled beyond recognition, and a pool of blood is pouring out from below. It’s a nauseating sight. I continue until I’m certain he’s dead.