Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
Gigi
Everything feels too familiar. Too real.
How have they managed to drag me back here?
I know the answer, of course. Greg’s bloody, lifeless body flashes across my vision like a painful nightmare.
I drop my chin to my chest, sidestepping those passing me in uniform, prepared for whatever Richard has in store for us today. The leather armour moulded to my skin is constricting, like a noose wrapped tightly round my neck.
Sunlight from the stained-glass windows in the hallway shines warmth onto my skin.
It’s comforting, yet I feel anything but.
I hurry past the cafeteria, where laughter slips through the open doorway, and towards the iron door looming in front of me.
My fingers curl tighter at my side with each step, nails biting into my palms.
A body steps into my path, tall and immovable, blocking my exit. Refusing defeat, I continue forwards until I’m a few steps away. Any closer and I’ll be sending my knee into Hudson’s crotch.
“Going somewhere?”
Aggravation sweeping through me, I buck my chin. “Move.”
“Gigi …”
“Hudson,” I mimic. “Let me through.”
His jaw twitches. “Can’t.”
“You can. You just won’t.”
His eyes flicker over my face before that mask quickly returns.
“I need to see him. Please,” I say with quiet emphasis. “Greg’s funeral could be any day. I don’t want to miss it. I can’t miss it. Just let me out for a few hours.”
“I can’t let you do that.” Voice dropping low, he whispers, “Richard has me under strict instruction to not let you leave.”
“And you’re still yet to tell me why.”
He shifts the same way in my eager attempt to pass by his side.
I drop my head with a defeated, “Fuck.”
This can’t be happening.
A heavy weight closes in on my chest. I tiredly rub my face, sweeping my fingertips through my hair in a desperate attempt to pull myself together.
“Fine.” I lift my chin. “Then when?”
Hudson’s face morphs into a grimace, but he remains silent. My hands start to twitch at my sides involuntarily, making it a struggle to even look at him without the urge to send my fist into his jaw.
I will get out of here. Maybe not right now, but I will.
You’ll get to him, I promise myself, surprising myself with my own confession.
“Recruits,” someone booms overheard. “Everyone is to meet at the training grounds. The exercise will begin in ten minutes.”
I look towards the overheard speakers, which crackle with the projected voice. “Well, that’s new.”
“Richard took it upon himself to have an upgrade after your little stunt.”
A smirk tilts my mouth at the memory. I’m yet to see the extent of the damage, though there doesn’t seem to be much, having now spent weeks confined in the place I once called home.
I’m nothing more than a prisoner here, limited to closed quarters and escorted from one building to the next.
They’re keeping a watchful eye on me out of fear I might set something ablaze.
I muse over the idea, wondering how easily I can access a can of petrol …
“Don’t even think about it.”
Hudson steers us the other direction, slight urgency in his step as he leads us away from the door. The hallways are less busy since Richard’s order to meet at the training grounds. In a final attempt, I turn back towards the door. Hudson grabs my arm quickly, forcing me back to his side.
My jaw tenses. “Fine … Fine.”
Plan B: Stay quiet. Don’t cause trouble. Follow along peacefully. And when they least expect it, work out a way to get the fuck out of here and stop the trafficking too.
It’s that simple.
“I’m sorry, okay?” Hudson’s voice slices through my thoughts. “I didn’t know Richard would hurt you the way he did. I have to listen to him. He’ll destroy everything I have.”
“He killed Greg.”
Something painful lingers in the undertone of his voice. “I’m sorry, Gigi—”
“Save it.” I cut him short. “I get it. No need to explain yourself.”
I can feel the weight of his stare, as though he’s on the cusp of trying to explain himself again.
Instead, silence surrounds us until he pushes open the heavy doors leading to the “training grounds”.
What used to be bustling gardens of blooming flowers is now all concrete and steel walls.
The roof is clear, giving way to open sky and grey clouds.
Richard really took “upgrade” to a new extreme.
“I’ll just be over there.” Hudson gestures forwards. “Don’t run off.”
As if the mechanics heard his warning, the door we exited seals closed with an echoing groan.
The grounds, bare and with an apocalyptic feel, are populated with recruits, all prepped in that familiar dark gear.
Through the crowd, my eyes zero in on a skittish figure, shoulders hunched like he’s afraid of his own shadow.
There’s a familiarity about him, but I know no one in the Circle acts quite like that.
As if feeling the weight of my gaze, his pale, sunken face turns to me over his shoulder. Gaze hollow, he pins me to the spot with an empty stare.
Andy.
Oh my God.
I fight the urge to bring my shaking hand to my mouth to conceal my gasp, but it slips out easily. Tiredness that was once limited to red-rimmed eyes now drowns him. There’s a fear in the way he holds himself, but his movements are slow, mechanical, as he turns back to B.
What … what’s happened to him?
Fear for the man I once knew chills me to the bone, holding me still. I force my eyes away, though my body screams at me to turn back towards him. I make a mental note to try to approach him when this “exercise” is over.
Laughter bounces off the walls, but my attention is drawn to the far corner, where Hudson lounges against a plastic table alongside Richard, Jamie trailing close behind him.
Jamie’s hands are in his front pockets as he sweeps his gaze over an array of weaponry spread out across the rectangular surface.
He towers over Richard by several inches, his dark hair gelled and styled away from his face.
I narrow my gaze as if it will help me to see, watching as his mouth turns up at the corners in a calculated grin.
“What’s he doing here?”
I whip round, my heart in my throat, and find Poppy standing so close she might as well be resting her head on my shoulder. Her expression is tight, eyes lowered in a scowl as she looks in the direction of the three men.
She resumes her judgemental glare, making no effort to be subtle.
“Can I help you?” I ask.
She rolls her eyes, taking a step closer, the ring shining bright on her finger as she crosses her arms tightly over her chest. She lifts her chin as if she’s inhaling. I subconsciously dig my feet into the ground, halting my reflex to retreat.
“Whatever’s on your mind, just say it.”
“Fine.” Her eyes wander over me once more. “I thought you’d smell like him.”
My brows draw inwards. “What are you on about?”
“I thought you’d smell like Jamie,” she clarifies. “I assumed you were spending a lot of time with him.”
A laugh almost tumbles out of me. What does she take me for? I don’t spend any time with him, and I don’t want to.
Jamie’s distance is perhaps the most terrifying part of it all.
Considering he made such a grand entrance, he’s kept to himself for the most part, glued to Richard’s side and looking over with the occasional glance.
The silence is torture, like he’s part of a secret scheme I’m none the wiser to.
Although nothing can be worse than the card death has dealt me recently.
The thought has my heart slamming against my ribs.
“I’m not your enemy. Richard deserves to pay for what he’s done.” The vulnerable girls I’m yet to find come to the forefront of my mind, but for all I know, Poppy is oblivious to his cruel truths. “He killed one of my friends …”
I stop myself to pass a steadying breath through my lips.
Poppy pins me with that same watchful glare. The speakers screech as the mic comes into focus, making half the courtyard slam their hands over their ears, me included.
Unfazed, Poppy watches closely as the noise subsides, and I lower my palms. I truly believe she won’t say anything until she speaks low, so quietly I don’t even think she intends for me to hear.
“He’s been worried about you.”
Confusion washes over me. “Who are you talking about?”
“Troops,” Richard’s voice booms overhead, short and clipped. “Gather up. We need you all to take a weapon and a target. Each of you will need to stick one to your chests. Both are lined up on the table. Clock’s ticking.”
I’m barely able to pass her a final glance before the crowd start their pursuit towards the equipment.
The set-up is some kind of joke, Richard’s new courtyard appearing as a cruel bunker repurposed for play.
I pick up a blinking neon target and Velcro it to my chest as if I’m a kid at a birthday party, not an initiate.
Then I grab the matte plastic gun, drilling my focus into the barrel to ensure this isn’t an assassination attempt.
Nope. Just a children’s toy.
I peer up as Richard holds the mic to his mouth. Jamie stands idle at his side, hands behind his back, watching over us all as if we’re pawns in his game.
“What’s all this?” B steps up alongside me, taking a target and pinning it to his chest. “Laser tag?”
“Can’t be,” someone says by his side. “Richard doesn’t do fun.”
No, he doesn’t. That’s for damn sure.
“What are the rules?” another asks, passing the toy gun between their hands. “Do we shoot each other?”
There’s no time to answer with Richard’s voice wailing through the speakers again like nails scraping down a chalkboard.
“Welcome to today’s exercise.” He pauses, waiting for the commotion of voices to die down.
“It seems we need to go over some basic training since people’s loyalties have drifted.
Being a recruit of the Circle is a privilege and not something we take for granted.
Some of you have lost focus, and we need to change that. ”
“That would be my fault,” I whisper, catching Poppy’s sidelong glare. She returns her gaze forwards without another word.
“The rules are simple …”
A groan rumbles beneath our feet, followed by the vibration of rubble.
A woman’s shriek, alongside muttered confusion, is followed by crates and dark walls slowly rising from the floor, some tall, some high, but all seemingly harmless for the most part.
This doesn’t scream “team-building exercise”, nor is it simply an “upgrade” for the Circle headquarters.
The massive arena – if you can even call it that anymore – starts to pulse with flickering red lights and streams of artificial fog.
“If your vests light up, you’re out. Being out means you immediately forfeit your position within the game.”
Murmurs echo round us, but no one dares to pipe up.
“Any questions?”
Quiet sweeps over the courtyard, and behind the mic, Richard smiles wickedly. “Didn’t think so. Now go find your positions.”
The group slowly disperses, seeking shelter behind the walls and dark corners. I stay back, moving towards one of the far shelters, in a prime position to keep an eye on the other recruits. Though seemingly risk-free, I’ll still take my chances with hanging back.
The commotion starts to lessen, and the closer to the starting point, the further my pulse rises. I inhale a deep breath, trying to centre my focus on where a few people have crouched behind a boulder.
I jolt, feeling the presence of someone leaning in close behind me. Their breath fans the back of my neck, causing my shoulders to stiffen. Jamie’s voice turns low and intimate, like we’re sharing a secret.
“Try not to die,” he whispers, and the lights cut out.