Chapter Twenty-Eight
Indie
I stared at the man behind the bars. He sat on a cot, slumped in the corner, glaring at me. King and Mimic argued behind me. I heard the noise, but the words were lost to me as I tried with everything I had to remember any type of classes I may have taken.
After Magyk rescued us, we spent weeks together traveling across the country, saying goodbye to each other. Every girl we dropped off triggered memories of our time together. Things we loved about each girl and things we didn’t.
There was no hatred of anyone. Alice could be difficult at times, but she was my friend. My sister. I still remember the day Magyk left us.
“Are you girls ready?” Magyk asked, looking over her shoulder at us as she sat behind the wheel of the large van she drove.
“I’m not sure we’ll ever be ready,” I confessed as I climbed out.
We all had new names, new histories. We couldn’t go home. Not yet. Going home meant we’d be found. I could never be Kate Porter again.
“I’m ready to be someone else,” Alice said, a smile spreading across her face.
She was more optimistic than the rest of us.
It was annoying at times. Alice was sarcastic and a borderline bully, but she stuck up for the younger, smaller girls.
Tried to help them acclimate to what we were expected to do.
“What about you?” I asked Jenny. She shrugged without answering.
“You girls will be placed together. Sisters who can’t be separated.” Magyk handed me a folder. “It’s all there. Everything you need.”
I opened the folder, flipping through the birth certificates and school records. I wondered who Magyk knew that was able to get this information on such short notice. Seeing as it was all lies.
“I can read,” I blurted out.
A hush settled over the men as they all turned to stare at me. “What?” Mimic asked, coming to stand in front of me.
“I can read. I can do math.”
He tilted his head, confusion showing on his face. I smiled at that. He was cute when he was confused.
“I never went to school. I was taken from the mall. I was with my mother; we were school shopping because I was about to start kindergarten. I have no memory of being taught how to read or how to add and subtract.”
I spun around to look at King. He nodded, understanding where I was going. “It’s true.”
“It is,” I agreed. “But we need to know everything.” I turned around, looking at Sting. That was his road name. I didn’t care what his real name was. It didn’t matter because he wouldn’t have a grave. There would be no headstone for his family to mourn at. “Unlock the door.”
Jingles moved forward, producing a key that he slipped into the lock. Opening the door wide, he allowed me to enter. Sting’s eyes bulged out as I moved around the small area.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked King, his eyes trailing my every step. Gunner stood by the bars, his gun trained on Sting.
“Who’s gonna say the phrase?” Blade asked.
“I am,” Mimic declared at the same time King said, “Jack.”
This must have been something they discussed while we were still upstairs.
Gunner and Mimic both argued their points, but my focus was on Sting.
The way he watched me led me to believe he knew exactly what was about to happen.
My father must have told them about me. About what I could do, if the fear emanating from the prisoner was any indication.
There was a commotion outside the cell that drew my focus for a brief moment. Sting used that to his advantage and struck. Shoving me into the cinderblock wall.
My head bounced off the concrete, and I closed my eyes, willing the stars to dissipate. Sting didn’t hesitate; he pulled his hand back as the words that woke my subconscious rang out around the room.
“Reckoning Hour.”
My eyes snapped open, and I smiled. Everything came back in an instant. I was no longer Indigo Cambridge. I was once again Kate Porter.
My foot connected with his balls before he could throw another punch, and Sting fell to his knees. I looked at the men who groaned on the other side of the cell.
My eyes focused on Jack, the man who had triggered my subconscious. I waited for my instructions. I wouldn’t attack other than to protect myself, not until I was given the signal. He needed to say the words.
Jack stared back, his head tilting to one side and then the other. What was he waiting for? Sting rolled around on the floor, groaning and crying, and I wanted to kick his teeth in so he would stop. But I couldn’t move.
I stood, the wall at my back, feet spread apart, hands locked behind me. And I waited. I didn’t speak. We weren’t allowed. Our job was to take orders.
“Why is she just standing there?” Gunner asked.
Sting finally got to his knees. He struggled to stand, but seeing me frozen in my spot, he advanced. Once he was close enough to reach, I quickly spun a roundhouse kick to his head, returning him to the floor.
“Kate, will you show me what you’ve learned?”
I smiled at Jack. His smile was comforting. His words were sincere. He wanted me to perform for him. But he wasn’t like the others. He didn’t demand; he didn’t threaten. He asked.
I nodded once, my eyes looking for my prey. I grabbed his hair, pulling his head back.
Where should I start?
If I start head to toe, he won’t see anything I do. Which has its benefits. Without his sight, his other senses will be heightened, meaning he will feel it more.
But this isn’t about him.
This is about Jack. Jack wants to see what I can do, which means I have to keep him alive long enough to get through all my options. I’m not sure that’s possible, but I am always up for a challenge.
I quickly opted to strip the man of his clothes and hand them to Jack through the bars. Jack smiled at me, and I nodded again.
The man lay at my feet as I circled around him.
Fingers or toes?
When he pushed his hands to the floor trying to lift himself, the answer was obvious. Fingers first. I grabbed the index finger on his left hand and twisted. The small crack couldn’t be heard over the man’s screams, but I felt it.
I moved to the next and continued on until I worked my way through every finger until the last. The small finger on his right hand. I held it between my own and looked over my shoulder at Jack, expecting praise. He didn’t disappoint. His smile was wide as he nodded.
I wrenched the finger, tearing the skin at the webbing.
Blood spurted over my hands as I dropped the man’s hand to the ground.
Picking up the other hand, I lifted his arm, and with his elbow resting on my thigh, I bent it back.
The cracking of his bones echoed around the room amid the groans of the men outside the cell.
Fingers: check
Arm: check
The man lay on his back, his naked body dotted with sweat. I circled him again, thinking about where to strike next. I wanted to rip his dick off. Only we weren’t allowed to touch it. I frowned, jumping back when the yellow liquid sputtered from the offending member.
I looked back at Jack, willing him to give me permission. He shook his head but said, “Not yet.”
“What the fuck are you doing, Jack?”
Jack ignored the man and lifted his chin at me, telling me to continue. I grabbed the man’s foot, holding his leg upright. With a quick twist, his ankle gave way, hanging loosely.
The man’s body lay crumpled at my feet. His appendages lying in unnatural positions.
“Is that all you can do?” Jack asked. When I shook my head, he asked, “What do you need?”
My brows furrowed. He asked me a question, but I wasn’t allowed to speak. “Do you need a weapon?” I quickly nodded. But again, dropped my eyes when he asked, “What kind?”
This was a trick. A ploy designed to trap me. I’d learned my lesson though. I would never open my mouth. Speaking meant punishment, and I was the punisher.
“How about a knife?”
My head snapped up, and I smiled. Nodding my head vigorously, I moved to the bars. With my hands at my sides, I waited for my tool.
“Blade, give her your knife.”
“What? Why?”
“Give her the fucking knife, asshole. I want to see what she does with it.”
“You’re enjoying this a little too much.”
Blade held the knife between the bars, and as soon as my fingers touched the hilt, he snatched his hand back as if I might cut it off.
We were only allowed to practice on our victims. Any deviation from our lessons garnered severe punishment. I held the blade, twirling it between my fingers, before tossing it from one hand to the other, then turning back to my prize.
I quickly got to work, meticulously removing the fingers I had broken and tossing them into a pile by the bars. The toes quickly followed.
I worked my way in, severing arteries, disconnecting tissue and tendons until his arms and legs were added to my offering in pieces, severed at each joint.
Next were his eyes. The man was dead now. There was no point in waiting. The tongue was next. I glared at his penis. The one thing I wasn’t allowed to remove.
Looking up at Jack, I pleaded with my eyes. It was worth the punishment if I could only convince him to let me take him completely apart.
“That’s enough, Kate.”
My shoulders slumped in defeat. He wouldn’t let me. The men never did. I dropped the knife and stepped back.
“Say the fucking words, Jack.”
“Not yet, Mimic.”
“Why the fuck not?”
Jack turned away from me. He lowered his voice. Whatever he was about to say, he didn’t want me to hear it, but I took a tentative step closer. Then another until I heard his words.
“We don’t know what she’ll remember when we deactivate her. If there is a chance she won’t remember this, then I don’t want her waking up covered in fucking blood.”
“Fine, then I’ll take her to get cleaned up.”
I stepped back until I hit the wall.
“No, I’ll take her to the washroom, and she can shower there.”
“No fucking way, Jack.”
“Mimic, enough. Jack isn’t going in with her. All he has to do is give her instructions. When she’s done, he’ll bring her upstairs and deactivate her.”
Mimic looked at me through the bars; his eyes were sad. He gripped the bars, his knuckles turning white from the force.
“I love you,” he whispered. “I know you’re in there, and I fucking love you.”
I didn’t respond; I couldn’t. I wasn’t allowed, but I heard him.
I’m here, Mimic!
It’s still me!
“Kate.” I pulled my eyes from Mimic’s back as he walked out of the room with the others until only Jack and I remained. Aside from the dead man in pieces on the floor.
He unlocked the cell and held the door open. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”
I stepped through the door and stayed behind Jack as he led me to a room with a shower.
“There is clothing on that bench. Take a shower and come out dressed when you are clean. Leave the bloody clothes on the floor.”
Jack backed out of the room, the door closing behind him. I had no other choice but to follow his instructions. Like I always did. This was who I was. Who they made me to be.