Chapter Eighteen
CASSIA
The room tightens. Four days gone, just like that.
Not before I’m ready, I think—and then remind myself no one asked, nor does anyone care.
My body sobs knowing the chance to heal before we leave is no longer an option.
My poor muscles; even just sitting here hurts.
And I now cannot visit the archives again…
what a day. I don’t believe they know it was me; I was precise with my movement around the cameras and I’m certain I’d be either dead or in a holding cell if they did know.
I suppose bright sides do exist.
Kellen plants his hands on the table at the front of the room.
I’m seated in the front row, so the tension in his muscles is undeniable.
“Recon determines the camp at roughly a day’s travel beyond the southeastern perimeter.
Objectives remain unchanged: secure all females of breeding age or younger for transport, and neutralize any resistance. ”
Secure. Neutralize. Mira’s face flashes, then the men whose bodies dropped so quickly. I lock my hands at my sides.
Elias doesn’t step forward so much as the room leans toward him. “You’ll be assigned to squads,” he adds, calm and steady. “Follow your lead without question. There is no choice beyond the perimeter. This is not training, and your actions will have very real consequences.”
Arayik reads the list. “Ashford, Crowell, Eston, Spinel, Styx report to Elias. Amata, Flor, Hasten, Vion, Epner to Kellen. Benson, Rhyne, Forven, Rayne, Till are with me.”
Relief hits hard enough I have to stiffen my body so it doesn’t sag my shoulders. Not Arayik. Elias isn’t safe—no one here is—but he’s the best choice of the three if I’m to be stuck with any.
Kellen unrolls a map, lines and numbers identifying pre-marked spots.
“I will go over this only once. There will be no time to brief you on it in the field.” He pauses until every person’s attention is solely on him.
“Elias’ squad will approach from the north while I take the east and the Commander secures the south.
A river covers the west, allowing us to cover all exits before pushing their people back toward it.
At which time we will complete the mission objective and return to the perimeter.
Pack light. Once we’re past the wall, convoys stay.
We walk the remainder and will carry one drone for location confirmation. ”
“Signal?” asks Vito.
“Rayne, Eston, and myself will transmit necessary information when possible, but squads are expected to hold their own and reconvene by the river,” Kellen answers.
I study the map. There’s not much to it, which is soothing in an anxiety-inducing way. It means we don’t know what we’re walking in to, but it also means they know very little about the escapees or their camps. So they’ll have no idea if some happen to be missing at the end of this.
“Dismissed,” Arayik says, standing tall. “Pack and sleep. Be late at dawn, and I leave without you. And when I come back, I’ll make sure you wish I hadn’t.”
We break. I’m at the door when a hand closes around my arm.
“A word,” Elias murmurs when I lock eyes with him, steering me down the hall.
“Sir,” I answer, neutral, as my pulse kicks.
He smells nice this close. His eyes stay on me even as they flick to our path every so often. “Are you ready for this?” he asks, low.
I expect accusation, and I get concern? That’s somehow worse. And why is he only asking me? “Yes, sir.” A lie, but if he catches it, he doesn’t comment.
“Beyond the wall, things are far more intense. If you hesitate, someone else bleeds for it.”
I nod once. “Understood.”
“Pack warm,” he adds. “The nights do not adhere to seasons.”
Dawn is gray and foreboding—the kind of gray that can make any happy person gloomy in an instant.
Convoys idle at the front of the training center, engines humming low.
We’ve been standing here for at least twenty minutes, waiting—for the Commander, of all people.
Figures. “Squad two,” Elias calls, and I leave formation with Finnick, Killian, Corin, and Calder.
We climb into the center vehicle—narrow windows, semi-comfortable benches, air stale as can be—and I take the corner.
Prison and shield, the mask presses against my cheekbones the way it always does.
The door slams before our vehicle lurches when the rest of the team is ready, and the Center shrinks behind us as the perimeter grows and grows. My heart thuds in a terrible pattern. Could it beat any faster? It tries.
The road under us falls apart fast, shifting from gravel to broken asphalt.
Each crack pops the convoy and wrings a groan out of the men in unison as we lurch from our seats.
Even the vehicle complains. We bounce for hours—no one speaking, just the steady breath of bodies and the dusty taste of silence—until Elias raps twice on the partition and rolls the convoy to an unsteady stop.
I peer out the window, jaw dropping at the utter expanse of the perimeter. From my position, the sky is no longer visible—nor the top of the wall.
This is…significantly larger than I’d thought.
Shedding scales of concrete run from the base up, and even surrounded by luscious trees of the forest, it’s utterly intimidating.
There’s a short hum of voices from the front before a long, screeching groan permeates the air. I wince from the force beating against my eardrums.
“Shit, that’s fucking loud,” Killian bellows, earning a backhand from Calder.
“And yelling is supposed to make it better, how?” I chuckle at that.
Before long, the convoy pitches forward. Are we driving into the wall? Oh, no, no, no. It’s all I can do to keep my mouth shut as we pass a group of gun-wielding Enforcers before darkness surrounds us completely. I’m going to vomit.
Deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth.
My father’s words will not assist me here.
I’m stuck in a tiny space, where the only light is the dimmest haze offered from the front of the vehicle.
What I’m able to see of the walls is even worse—they’re nearly touching the vehicle on both sides.
What if it collapses and we are stuck in here until we die of suffocation or dehydration?
I’m no stranger to being confined to small margins, but at least there I knew someone would open the hatch door, even if it was an Enforcer.
Now I’m stuck in here with an entire team of them.
One in, two out. Three in, four out.
I count and count as my ears grow fuzzy, my eyes aching from how hard they’re scrunched closed. Time passes slow. The only thing I focus on are the number of breaths I take in line with the number of rotations from our tires. As long as the tires are moving, we’re not stuck.
I’m nearing three hundred when the sound barrier spreads and my eyes spring open to the light of day once more. Given how that took forever, I’m quite curious how long it took to build this damn perimeter. I don’t recall any mention of that...
Regardless, I do not want to do that again. I can manage life out here just fine, no need to go back to the training center when this is over.
“This is as far as engines go,” Elias yells as we finally, blessedly come to a stop. “On foot from here.”
Warm air caresses my lashes as I step out of the convoy.
It smells like damp bark; wet soil instead of metal and bleach.
We spill into a clearing, ensuring every person and pack is accounted for before trudging behind our leaders through blistering heat.
How much sweat can my undergarments soak up before it’s considered a biohazard?
I’m certain I passed that line hours ago.
Half our group is about to drop from exhaustion when Arayik barks, “We’ll camp here.”
There’s a collective sigh.
Quiet murmurs filter through my head as I pull my assigned tent from my pack and lay it out in front of me. After some staring, Calder appears, handing me a pole, pointing with his chin. “Push the collar until it clicks.”
I do. “Thank you.” It’s a genuine remark—stars know I would not have figured that out on my own. I watch him erect his tent, confused by how easy it seems.
It’s not long before we stand near a low fire and chew rations that glue to teeth.
It’s not the best, but jerky is good protein and will last our entire trip.
As will the crackers, though those are far dryer.
My tongue quickly learns the art of consuming these with as little water as possible, knowing we need to drink it sparingly.
“Just over a day’s march.” Arayik pushes into our group, creating a space for himself. “Terrain will pick fights. Weather too, so rest up, we set off at first light.”
“Watches,” Kellen announces as the Commander retreats to his tent. “Rhyne and Till first. Forven, Vion second. Hasten, Crowell third. Ashford, Eston fourth.”
Fourth watch is the black before blue. Not ideal—I’d rather have first, but it’s better than second or third.
I stash my gear by the tent flap before finding a place away from camp to pee.
I hadn’t considered how I would during the day when the other men just stand to relieve themselves… I’d soil my clothes if I try that.
A thought comes to me as I crouch behind a small bush: could I repurpose a piece of bark to work how a penis would? As long as the material wasn’t necrotic, I see no reason why it wouldn’t. Plus, it has to be more sanitary than baring myself to the ground like this. Clean and cunning all in one.
I’ll search for a usable piece tomorrow when there’s light.
I nod to Calder and Malcom when I return, practically falling into my tent. My hands lift to remove my mask out of habit, pausing at the laughter outside. The chances of someone walking in here while I’m unconscious is probable—I guess I’ll be living inside this thing for the coming days.
Every bone in my body sinks into the bed roll, praising me for finally giving them a break from the pain. Sleep claims me quick.
A rough shake of my shoulder wakes me what feels like minutes later. “Up. Fourth watch,” Pax says.
That was the least restful sleep I’ve ever gotten. Waking once an hour to strange noises, then to a kink in my neck, does not make for an ideal night of sleep.
Outside, the air bites. Icy dew laces the grass and the stars sit low and bright in the sky, like they’re fascinated by our team and wanted a closer look.
Pax waits at the designated perimeter. “North and east are yours,” he says, nodding to my left. “I’ll take south and west. Check-in every fifteen.”
“Understood.” He prefers instructions to small conversation. Works for me.
I pace my arc as the camp breathes deeply behind me.
The forest in the distance carries small sounds—little flaps of wings, branches shifting, something with four legs and a furry tail deciding we’re not worth its curiosity.
My power releases, and I know immediately that’s what was keeping me from proper sleep.
I’d built a surplus on stress and anxiety over the last day or two and haven’t given it an outlet, and it’s an immense relief to just let it flow where the emotions hovering idly are thin with sleep.
The mask warms as I breathe and count the steps between stones.
Something shifts ahead—a deliberate movement. A shape peels from the trees and shuffles forward. A man.
My hand lands on my weapon, because that should be an Enforcer’s first instinct. As should alerting the others.
And yet, my throat tightens. If I call out, he’s dead. If I don’t, maybe we are. I hold one breath too long.
There’s an alarmed shout behind me—Pax alerting the team. The camp snaps awake with the agility of a rubber band; tents open and spit men who grip their own weapons. The figure by the trees runs. The Commander launches by me, already racing for him and the trees swallow them both after a moment.
Branches crack. A heavy thud followed by a series of grunts, with which I cannot decide if it’s terrible of me that I hope the other man gives Arayik what he deserves.
“Eston.” Elias’ voice is at my shoulder. “Report.”
“Single male, alone. He had no visible weapon, nor any obvious intention to approach our camp. Looked like he was just surveying.” His words twist something dangerous inside me.
“Ashford saw him first,” Pax adds like a fucking idiot.
Elias faces me, brow raised. “And why were you not the one to alert us, Ashford?” Thick sludge drags around the lump in my throat, nearly choking me.
“I—” I, what? Was going to let the man walk away? Was only planning to notify you if the man approached? I have to offer something truthful, he’ll know otherwise… “I didn’t realize it was a man at first.”
My squad leader gazes between my eyes for several moments before the Commander stomps back toward our group.
He returns bruised, with a split lip, and it’s impossible to hide the smirk.
He should have gotten far worse than that.
He hauls the unconscious man over his shoulder, making for the center of our camp to unceremoniously drop him between all of us.
It’s light enough that the scruff along his chin is visible, as are the even worse bruises Arayik gave him.
I shiver at the long, angry scar running from one side of his throat to the other. His clothes don’t fare much better.
“Bind him,” Arayik commands, cracking his neck as his arms cross. Gage and Nash grab for spare rope and secure the man’s hands at his back. “We’ll ask our questions when he wakes.”
Relief sways and curdles—he’s alive, at least. For now.
I whirl back to my post and pace my section, securing distance from the others while it’s still my watch.
By the time the sky lifts to a pale seam, I’ve worn a path.
Something disturbing dawns on me; a revelation I don’t like: this is no longer a charade to me.
This isn’t just about surviving until I figure out the smallest ways to help.
I’ve seen what it’s like on the inside of these men’s heads—I’ve lived it. Small victories here and there will mean nothing in the grand scheme, because they will never change. They will always win because that’s how they set the system up.
If the people out here could find a way to defy the Syndicate, escape the facilities, and live outside the perimeter, then there’s a crack in the system running deep enough to worry our esteemed leaders. That’s why they formed this Enforcer team, is it not?
They’re afraid. They want these people neutralized before they can do actual damage.
I need to find that crack. Pry it open and pray to the stars it’s made out of glass instead of water.