19. Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Nineteen
Hector
The guard’s clothes smell like death, but I force myself to breathe through it.
Rough fabric clings to my damp skin, still sticky with dried blood and brain matter. Getting the outfit on had been a hassle with the missing foot, but it fits well enough, surprisingly. Almost like the fates are smiling down at this moment.
“You're going to die,” Jonas mutters, one hand clutched to his mangled, bloody eye socket. Nyx watches from a rusted pipe above, keeping the asshole in her sights.
Ignoring him, I finish zipping my coat up and cinch the belt around my waist, adjusting the collar until it hides most of Charon’s bite marks.
Part of me wishes I didn't have to hide them.
If this were another world, another time, I'd wear his brands proudly, claiming him as much as he's claimed me. Maybe someday.
I don’t have my cane, and hopping around on one leg isn't exactly ideal, so I improvise. Jonas gapes when I rip one of the belts off a dead soldier and start strapping his rifle to my leg under my pants.
It’s not perfect. The barrel digs into my thigh and the handle doesn't fit well in the shoe I've tied to it. Uneven weight makes every step a lurch, but it works and keeps me upright. I can walk. Right now, that’s all I need. I just hope I don't shoot myself.
Jonas shifts with a hiss of pain as he tries to get away. I grab his pistol from the holster at my hip and fire at his feet, causing us both to flinch when the bullet ricochets off the concrete and pierces some dirty metal cylinder near a machine.
“There's fucking gas in there, are you insane?!” he bellows, stepping toward a valve, but I cock the gun for another shot like I’ve seen the soldiers do. Jonas halts at the sound, tossing me a look over his shoulder.
“You’re going to help me find my sister,” I command, stepping closer with the gun aimed at his face. “And then you’re going to get us out of here with enough food for three people.”
“They’ll kill you before you get past the first checkpoint,” he snarls, his remaining eye burning with hatred.
“Then I guess you’d better make sure they don't.” Grabbing a mask off one of the corpses, I pull it on to cover my face. “Walk, boss . Or I’ll let the bird go for your other eye.”
Nyx lets out a delighted croak from above, obviously on board with that plan .
“Find Charon,” I tell her as I loop my arm with Jonas, pressing the gun to his rib cage. “Tell him I killed them all.”
She squawks once before launching into the air with a snap of wings, her silhouette vanishing through a broken window.
Jonas scoffs, his face now completely unrecognizable. “You and that freak are dead as soon as the Judge finds out about this. Worse than dead. I can't wait to watch you get ripped apart in the pit.”
I jab the gun into his side roughly, pushing him toward a rusted metal door. “At least you'll be watching with only one eye. I can die peacefully knowing that. Move.”
“Ain't nothing peaceful about dying in the pit,” he sneers, the door groaning on rusted hinges when he pulls it open. “Think you could survive a horde of biters alone? Doubtful. They'll tear your limbs off while you're still alive and eat them in front of you. That's my favorite part.”
“You're fucking sick,” I hiss, blinking at those weird flickering ceiling lights as we step out into a narrow, windowless hallway.
Jonas just laughs wickedly. “Go against the Judge and face the consequences. Just ask your freakshow boat operator.”
The hallway stretches endlessly, steel doors on either side marked with peeling numbers and yellowed signs I can’t read. The deeper we go, the more wrong it feels, like the walls themselves are screaming. “What did Charon do?”
“Fuck if I know. That was before my time, but rumor has it the Ferryman knows a secret he ain’t supposed to.”
I grip the handgun tighter, pulse thudding in my ears. “A secret? ”
Jonas shrugs lazily. “The Judge doesn't like imbalance. You cross the line, you pay the price.”
“And Charon paid?
He swings his gaze to mine. “You ever wonder why the freak can't talk?”
My stomach twists into a knot. “He’s mute.”
“Is he?” Jonas grins, something evil gleaming in his remaining eye.
Suddenly, the silence Charon carries makes me sick, thinking that someone might have done that to him as punishment.
I jab the pistol into Jonas's side to keep him moving, filing that information away for later. “My sister, take me to her. She enlisted about ten years ago and I never saw her again. She's called Lena.”
Jonas tilts his head, brows jumping high. “That bitch is dead.”
“Don’t you fucking say that!” With a growl, I slam the gun into his temple, causing him to collapse against the wall. “She's here, I know it. Take me to her. Out of this building, wherever you people live. I'll find her.”
He just stares at me briefly, blood dripping down his cheek. “Where we live ? What do you think this place is, exactly? Is there a pretty little neighborhood in your mind with houses and gardens like the olden days?”
“What the fuck are you talking about? This is a prison .”
A lopsided sneer twists his mutilated face, making my stomach turn. “Used to be, back before the world went to Hell. Mega-max for the worst of the worst. Think all of your darkest nightmares come to life. Then the rain began to fall. ”
It’s my turn to stare, swallowing hard. “What does that mean?”
Jonas pushes away from the wall and steps forward until the gun rests flat against his chest. “Stories say the prison held for six weeks…but when the food ran low and the inmates got hungry, what do you think kept them alive?”
"You expect me to believe the guards just let something like that happen?”
He’s trying to rattle me, to get inside my head. But there’s something in his eye that makes this feel less like a taunt and more like a confession.
“No one lets anything happen here. You either adapt, or you end up on the menu.”
“That doesn't make any sense!” Grabbing his collar, I shove him forward. “Why would you need to do that when you have all the rations? Isn’t that why we mine for silver?”
Jonas chuckles darkly. “Sure, that’s the official line, but the Judge doesn't give a fuck about ration tokens.”
“Then why ?”
“I ain't telling you shit, rotter. Just trust me when I say the sister you knew is long fucking gone.”
My finger twitches on the trigger. I seriously consider filling this lying asshole’s body full of bullets, but then we turn the corner. A sharp snap of electricity buzzes overhead, followed by the low, guttural growl of something…canine.
I freeze instantly.
At the end of the hall, two guards stand beside a thick gate, and between them, three dogs on chains. Big, muscular things, all mottled fur and foamy jowls. Their ears perk at the sight of us. One lets out a low snarl that vibrates in my ribs.
“Keep walking,” Jonas mutters. “Act like you belong.”
“But I don’t,” I hiss, suddenly aware of how bad I'm hobbling on the rifle strapped to my leg. “They’ll smell it.”
“Not if you stop sweating like a guilty fuck.”
The guards nod as we approach, their eyes dragging across our clothes, and one of them raises a brow.
“Holy shit, Jonesy, what happened to your face?”
The growling intensifies, claws scraping against concrete.
Jonas grimaces as he gingerly touches his cheek. “The freak's bird attacked me. Took an eye out, too. We're on our way to medical.”
“Fuck, I hate that thing. Don't even know why the Judge still lets it live.”
“Yeah, well, you know how it goes. Eye for an eye and all that shit.”
The biggest dog lunges against its leash, teeth snapping just inches from my hip, and my whole body locks up in fear.
“Got yourself a squirmy one there,” the first guard notes dryly, not even moving to help.
Jonas laughs wickedly. “He’s scared of dogs, aren’t you, grunt ?”
I say nothing, just nod beneath my mask and keep as far from the beasts as possible.
The guards exchange a look before waving us through. “They catch a whiff of rot, they’ll rip right through the chain. Keep him clean.”
“Always,” he says, yanking me forward by the arm .
Once we’re around the corner and out of sight, I finally exhale on wobbling legs.
“You’re a shit actor,” Jonas chuckles.
“Shut up. Wherever it is you hold people, take me there. Now.”
“Sure, sweetheart. It's just beyond this next wing.”
I narrow my gaze, dragging him to a stop before we reach the corner. “Why are you helping me?”
He blinks, his one good eye gleaming. “You’ve got a gun to my ribs and I'm half blind. This ain’t help, rotter, it's survival.”
“Could’ve turned me in already,” I answer, pointing the gun at his forehead. “Could’ve screamed for backup. Why haven’t you?”
That grin returns, unsettling as it morphs his ruined face. “Maybe I like you. Maybe I want to see how far you’ll actually go before you break. Thought it’d be fun to watch.”
My grip tightens. “I haven’t broken yet.”
Could have. So many times in my life, I could have given up, ended it all, put myself out of this misery.
“And that’s what makes you interesting,” he murmurs before turning down the corridor. “The tougher they are, the louder they scream.”
I follow almost mindlessly, reeling slightly from his words. The hallway turns sharply, ending at a sealed door with thick locks and reinforced bars. Jonas punches in a code without me needing to ask, and the mechanism disengages.
“You’re not gonna like what you find in here, rotter,” he mutters, glancing at me sideways.
“Open it.”
The metal groans loudly, almost like this place is warning me not to go any further. But I have to, for Lena. So I step through the door with my gun still trained on Jonas, trembling from head to toe.
The smell hits me first—blood, rot, and sweat.
Screams echo off the walls, followed by wet snarls and the crack of bone.
A large space opens into what used to be a courtyard of some sort, long since gutted and repurposed into a scene straight out of Hell.
What remains of the tables have been melted down, welded into a massive cage in the middle of the floor.
Nine levels of cells line the walls above, stacked like an audience overlooking the pit.
A few heads peek through the bars, watching. Waiting.
And in the center of it all, two figures are locked in a brutal fight under the burning sky.
One is entirely gone, his skin peeling with infection.
The other is…still human. Barely. She's missing an eye, wielding a rusted pipe at the biter with all her strength.
The swing misses, sending her off balance, and the biter takes advantage by lunging for her shoulder.
The crowd watching from their cells cheer, almost like they want the girl to die.
Body heat warms my back as Jonas steps in close, his humorless chuckle brushing over my ear.
“Welcome to Zone T. Entertainment for the masses. You win, you get to survive another day. But if you lose…” He shrugs, gesturing to a shredded corpse hanging from a hook near the far wall. “Well. Waste not, want not. Everything gets repurposed.”
The acid rising in my throat finally spills over, and I bend to vomit onto the ground, barely feeling Jonas press his stiff cock into my ass.
“You do this to rotters?” I choke, vision blurring .
He groans when another scream rips through the air, hands tightening on my hips. “Potential soldiers, too. Everyone serves their time in the pit.”
My heart pounds in my ears as the woman shrieks for help, her arm completely separated from her body. The soldiers just laugh, a few of them with their cocks out, making my stomach roil again in horror.
Somewhere in this circle of Hell could be my sister. Somewhere in those cells, maybe one of the guards patrolling above.
I don’t know anything anymore, but I do know this:
The inferno awaits, and I’m walking straight into the flames.