Second Epilogue
THE EXERCISE AUDITORIUM in the lower levels of the Vault was as gray and depressing as always. I trudged around the perimeter in slow circles—blending in with the other hundred and fifty or so omegas in my shift, while trying not to let on how terrible I was feeling today.
The guards were always watching. A dozen or so stood in a loose circle at the center of the echoing space, staring at us impassively with tasers and truncheons at the ready.
Another dozen looked down on us from the level above, armed with tranquilizer guns.
Acting in a way that attracted their attention rarely ended well for anyone involved.
Once upon a time, I’d appreciated the brightness of our orange jumpsuits is such a dull and cheerless place. Now, they just hurt my eyes. Orange stood out from the background. It made us easy to see. Easy to catch if we tried to run.
Not many people tried to run.
At least, not more than once. Where would we even go?
A hand brushed mine. I flinched hard, barely able to stop myself from jerking back and whirling around to see who had touched me.
Making a scene. Then I caught a whiff of crisp lemon and rosemary omega perfume.
It was soured by loneliness and confinement, but still as familiar as my own papaya and ginger.
Del.
My sister, Delilah; kidnapped at the same time as me and brought here from our home, to be poked and prodded and experimented on by the white-coated doctors who seemed to run this place.
I risked a sideways glance, keeping my head facing straight forward. Del’s curly, short-cropped brown-black hair and umber skin greeted me—a mirror of my own, even if she was several inches shorter and a couple years younger than me.
My jaw ached with the need to speak to her... to ask how she was doing and if they’d hurt her yet. But speaking during the exercise hour brought swift and certain punishment.
We walked side by side, both facing forward and not changing speed. Her hand brushed mine again, and this time, a wad of something was pressed into the loose cage of my fingers.
I didn’t look. Didn’t react. Just twisted and wriggled my arm, poking and shoving the wad as far up my orange sleeve as I could get it, since pockets weren’t a luxury we were allowed.
With a final brush of her pinky against my skin, Del increased her pace just enough to draw away from me, disappearing into the crowd. The soft bundle of mystery burned against my forearm, as though desperate curiosity could somehow generate its own heat.
I had no idea how much of the exercise hour was left. The muscles in my legs ached, but that didn’t mean much. Every other part of my body ached, too, after the last round of bone marrow injections the doctors had given me.
Eventually, we were herded back to our cells. I sent a covert glance toward the door of the cell just beyond mine, watching Del’s back as she disappeared inside. The heavy door clanged closed behind her.
“Move.” A hand shoved me between the shoulder blades, drawing a startled gasp from me as I stumbled forward, my own door slamming behind me. The noise echoed in my ears for a long moment before my heart rate slowed from its startled jump.
The narrow cot in the corner beckoned me like a lighthouse in stormy seas.
Lie down, it whispered. You’ll feel better if you sleep.
It probably had a point, but there were more important things to focus on right now. Instead of giving in to the lure of the one-inch-thick plastic mattress, I limped over to the wall separating my cell from my sister’s and slid down it to sit on the cold floor.
The wall was too thick to hear anything from the other side.
Or, more accurately, any sound loud enough to penetrate the insulated concrete would also bring guards running.
I still liked to sit here and pretend Del was doing the same on the other side.
I liked the idea that we could whisper secrets to each other, even if it was a fantasy.
Angling my body away from the camera mounted at ceiling height in the corner, I pulled the mystery wad out of my sleeve and examined it.
It was a bunched-up mass of toilet paper, but the white single-ply tissue was covered in squiggles of black and gray. I straightened it out and squinted, taking in the small, messy writing crammed onto the long strip.
Paper is paper, it said. Right? So, I managed to steal a sharpie, but I think it’s about to die. Anyway...
I settled in, still keeping the message hidden from the red eye of the camera gazing down at me.
It was typical Del—reminiscing about our childhood before we were taken, wishing we could escape. Writing things that would get her thrown in the Pit for a week if she got caught. Of course, the same thing would happen to me if I got caught reading what she’d written.
The ending felt different, though. Heavier... more immediate, somehow.
I heard some guards talking about their supply of omegas getting cut off, and how the people in charge were freaking out. What do you think it means?
By the last sentence, the sharpie had grown so faint that I could barely make out the words.
The lock on the door clanked, and I shot to my feet so fast that my muscles screamed in protest. Rushing over to the toilet, I tossed the note into the bowl and flushed—turning around just in time to look at least vaguely casual as two guards entered.
“Time for another session with Dr. Sakarov,” said the one on the right. “Get a move on, Boobs.”
I ignored the rude nickname, but I winced internally at the prospect of another session so soon. It had only been three days, and since yesterday, the nausea had been so bad I could barely keep water down.
Knowing there was no point in trying to resist. I walked out of the cell on shaking legs. The second guard—one I didn’t recognize—made no attempt to hide the way he stared at my chest as I passed.
“Why d’you call her Boobs?” he asked, as they fell in on either side of me. “They ain’t that big.”
The first guard grunted. “It’s her number. She’s Subject 8008.”
I could imagine the second guard’s heavy brow knitting as the silence stretched.
“I don’t get it,” he said eventually.
“That’s cuz you’re an idiot,” replied the first guard.
The walk to the labs felt nearly as long as the exercise hour. When we finally arrived, Dr. Sakarov was waiting, along with Dr. Hwan.
Both men were gray-haired and pudgy, smelling of soap, disinfectant, and beta-male sweat.
Dr. Sakarov was several inches taller than Dr. Hwan, with a shiny bald spot on the back of his head and a mask covering his sagging jowls.
All the doctors here were bad news, but being in Sakarov’s vicinity always gave me a special level of cringe.
It was something about the proprietary way he handled my body, as though he’d claimed ownership, with plans to move in and redecorate.
“Put her on the table,” he ordered the guards, with his raspy Russian accent.
The guards manhandled me onto the metal table and strapped my arms and legs down before retreating to the area just inside the doorway. I closed my eyes, hoping to go away inside my head before the needles came out. Sometimes that worked. Sometimes it didn’t.
Today, I thought about the things Del had written. Our childhood... our home in the windy desert of southern New Mexico, with mountains looming on the horizon, clad in shades of purple and orange.
It... sort of worked.
I was aware of my blood being drawn, but it felt distant. When the bigger needles came out, it was worse—but then, Dr. Hwan said, “This Vozzina case. Are you following it?”
“Obviously,” Dr. Sakarov replied in a dry tone, not stopping what he was doing to my arm.
“The sentencing came down today,” Dr. Hwan went on. “The organization isn’t going to recover from that. Our supply has already dried up.”
My eyes flew open, landing on the readout screen where green digital readouts against a black background tracked my heart rate and blood pressure. ‘8008’ flashed in the upper right corner, the numbers chunky and square. B-O-O-B.
I heard some guards talking about the supply of omegas getting cut off, Del had written. And how the people in charge were freaking out.
Dr. Sakarov grunted. “Don’t talk so openly in front of the subjects.”
I gritted my teeth as the needle withdrew, scraping against bone as it went.
Sakarov held up the vial of collected fluids, tilting his head as he regarded it. “Besides,” he said, removing the vial from the needle and placing it inside a machine set next to my metal gurney. “I have a feeling we won’t be needing any more test subjects.”
He turned back to me, looming over me with his thick glasses and masked face. A gloved hand stretched out, and he rubbed a thumb over my lower lip. The latex caught on my chapped skin, dragging at it. I froze, wanting desperately to jerk away from the touch.
Knowing there was no place to go.
His head moved sideways, regarding me the same way he’d regarded the vial of my blood and bone marrow a moment before. “You, my dear, are poised to make the members of this project very rich indeed.”
I tried to stiffen my lips, pursing them together to prevent his finger from moving them. A moment later, the thumb moved away.
“Take her back to her cell,” Sakarov ordered the guards. “I have what I need.”
My legs didn’t want to work properly as the guards unstrapped me and herded me back down the long, lonely corridors. I kept stumbling over my own feet, the hallway tilting sideways at unexpected moments.
When I finally sank down next to Del’s wall in my cell, the door shutting and the lock clanking behind me, I wanted nothing more than to see my sister’s face and wrap my arms around her. Instead, I pressed my forehead to the cold concrete.
I wasn’t as clever as Del. I didn’t have a stolen sharpie hidden in my cell, or a pencil, or anything else I could use to write. Even though I knew it was pointless, I rolled my head to the side until my ear was pressed to the wall, hoping to catch a hint of her presence.
Anything.
Was she sitting on the other side, separated from me by inches that might as well be miles?
My eyes began to burn as I drew in a shaky breath
“I don’t know how, but we’re going to get out of here, sis,” I whispered. “We’ll go someplace far away, with trees and mountains and a river, and it will just be us and a bunch of dogs and cats and chickens. Maybe horses, too. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
I paused. A tear spilled over, rolling down my cheek.
“Wouldn’t you?” My voice broke.
There was no reply.
Discover Ruby’s story in the next Ember Blaze novel, Knot Your Weapon.
Jez and Tony’s story is a spinoff of the Knot Playing Fair duology, complete and available now!
For another series set in this world, check out All for Knot.