Chapter 17
SOMETHING’S WRONG
A scream shatters the dark.
I tear free from my half-sedated haze, breath caught in my throat, skin clammy against the sheets. For a moment, I think it’s another nightmare, but the sound comes again. Higher, sharper, too real to be imagined.
I almost trip as I stumble out of bed, clambering to the glass window on my door.
Mister M sent the sedation an hour early, but it must be after midnight by now.
No one should be up. At the very least, no one should be screaming.
I press my face to the panel, letting my breath fog the glass.
I can barely see the hallway beyond our pod from here, but it looks empty.
Something rattles the wall. I crane my head to the left to look down the row of doors that connect to our rooms. My breath hitches when a dark silhouette of chaos comes into view.
Avery.
It’s Avery.
Two enforcers in black coats drag her out of her room, one on each arm, pulling so hard her body jerks between them like a rag doll.
She’s thrashing wildly, bare feet kicking at nothing, face streaked with tears and fury.
The glass muffles most of her words, but I catch fragments.
She’s screaming that she didn’t mean to.
Begging for Mister M. Demanding to know what’s going to happen to her.
My heart slams against my ribs. They wrestle her through the common room.
She flails, landing a solid kick before a syringe plunges deep into the crook of her arm.
The effects wash over her instantly. She goes slack, body falling limp as they lift her between them and disappear into the shadows of the training wing.
I can’t move. I can’t breathe.
Where are they taking her?
My knees threaten to give. My body locks against the glass as I clutch my head in my shaking hands. It doesn’t make sense. Nothing here ever does. But Avery’s perfect. Smart. Talented. Nothing like the girl out there fighting like an animal.
I raise an unsteady hand and knock against the wall that connects Juniper’s room to mine. Nothing. I don’t need to knock on the other wall; I can hear Brielle’s rhythmic snoring from here. My thoughts are skidding out of control. They say sedation keeps us safe, keeps us calm.
But she was loud. Frantic. Definitely not sedated.
And I can’t stop thinking that there’s no way anyone could sleep through this, no matter what drugs they give us.
The common room sits empty now, eerily serene in the dim blue light.
But the image won’t leave me. Avery’s wide eyes, her sobs, her voice breaking on his name.
His name.
Does Mister M know?
If he doesn’t, he’ll know soon enough. I know they’ve been arguing, but there’s no way he would’ve wanted this. Would he?
I don’t know how long I stay rooted in place.
Long enough for my lower back to throb. Long enough that I don’t care to move when the sound of bootfalls grows closer.
Colt makes his rounds like all is well. Shoulders loose, pace easy.
But when he sees me at the glass, he slows.
He cracks the door open, looking me up and down.
“Maysie,” he says under his breath, gaze flicking over his shoulder. “You aren’t supposed to be up."
"Avery—she..." I try to describe what I saw, then stop dead. Because I have no idea what that was.
His gaze doesn’t falter. He shakes his head, gesturing at the bed. "It’s not safe to be standing there. You’ve got to lie down. Please.”
“I just…Avery—”
“I know.” His words are clipped, tone thick with emotions I don’t dare name. His eyes hold mine, steadying me. “I know. But you need to trust me on this. Get back in bed.”
“She didn’t do anything wrong. She was perfectly fine a week ago. And this morning. And—”
“Please, Mays.” He slips the door open and grabs my arm. His eyes are so pale in the dim light that I can barely make out the warm hues of brown in his irises.
“Does Mister M know?” I whisper, hoping I don’t already know the answer.
“I don’t know,” he admits quickly, eyes flicking behind him again. “But shift changes are happening any minute. They can’t see you up.” His eyes are fixed on the hall. “Bed, now.”
“She didn’t do anything wrong—”
“I know,” he says, too quick to be a lie. “Trust me. I know.”
The cuff warms against my wrist, light flashing as I slip from the target heart rate.
“Just trust me,” he repeats, softer. “Please.”
I stumble back, legs hitting the back of the bedframe with a dull thunk. Colt lingers in the door for a moment, gaze downcast.
“If anyone asks tomorrow.” His throat bobs. “You didn’t see that.”
I open my mouth to beg him for answers. To tell him that I did, in fact, see that.
But he’s already gone, bootfalls fading down the hall.
My back meets the bed as I collapse down, utterly drained from whatever just transpired.
I tug at the covers, trying to remember the relaxation techniques that Doctor Noxen taught me. Empty the mind, steady the soul.
But my mind is chock-full, and my soul is anything but steady.
I can’t make sense of it. She was perfect, and it wasn’t enough. Avery did everything she was supposed to, and more. Before today’s incident, I was half-convinced she was a robot built by Mister M to make the rest of us feel bad.
But it wasn’t enough.
A slew of terrifying thoughts floods my head, but one sticks out, sharp and wrong. A jagged edge of fear. It rattles against my skull, making my eyes blur. The room shifts in and out of focus as I wriggle under the blanket, palms slick with sweat because I don’t get it.
If obedience isn’t enough, if it can’t save us, then what can?