Chapter 14 Milo
Milo
Ipush the button to send the treadmill faster, I’ve already been running for half an hour, unable to silence the thoughts in my head. I hate exercise, but it does take the edge off, stopping my head from spiralling too far because I’m concentrating on not dying from my lungs being put to use.
My new interest in spending time in the compound’s gym, outside of the obligatory sessions, may also have something to do with the two people that are lifting weights in front of me.
Tacita and Wyatt’s animosity seems non-existent now they’ve slept together.
They’re laughing as they egg each other on with more and more ridiculous moves with the barbells they’re currently using on the mats in front of the machines.
It’s fascinating at how he’s won her over.
I’m so curious as to what went down in his room last night, but my imagination on that front can’t truly picture it, despite trying to. Several times.
Does that make me a pervert?
If it doesn’t, running on this machine so I can watch them now, and just be in their vicinity, might tip the scales.
Both are dripping in sweat, their clothes sticking to their skin, as they try to outperform the other on every move.
Some latent instinct, that’s laid dormant deep inside me, wants to go over there and touch them both in some way, to feel their hot and sweaty bodies press against mine.
They’re the first people to show me kindness in years and I want to bask in it. It’s pathetic really.
Their banter and chuckles echo around the gym only adding to my distraction.
I wish I could join them. But there’s no way I could compete with the insane amounts they’re lifting and so I stay put.
I’ve been with them all morning anyway; I shouldn’t overstep my welcome.
They’ve both been nothing but friendly towards me but I’m sure my time is limited before they move on like everybody else does.
Today has been strange all around. We’ve been kept to the schedule but have been escorted everywhere and kept separate from all the other contestants.
Each group isn’t allowed within ten feet of another, and the guards have been stricter than usual about conversation–insisting on silence in the classrooms when we’ve had to be in the same room as any others.
There was another murder last night. That piece of information wasn’t kept from spreading through the population of whatever you want to call this facility.
The guards are more on edge and clearly exhausted.
They warned us that we might be pulled out for individual questioning but so far today none of our group has been taken away.
“Fuck, you’re so freakishly strong.” Wyatt’s voice interrupts my thinking again as he spots Tacita lifting what has to be the weight of a small car above her head. She does it with such grace that it looks almost effortless to her.
“And that’s why I’m the best,” she taunts the man made of pure muscle. Holding the bar for a few more seconds she lowers it gently to the floor and steps back.
They trade places and Wyatt links his fingers in front of his chest before pushing his arms out in a stretch. It makes his biceps pop, not that I’m checking him out.
But then he raises those linked fingers above his head, stretching out his abs, causing the black vest he’s wearing to rise up, giving me a full look at the base of his six pack and two delicious lines either side of his hips that dip into the gym shorts that are slung low.
I cough, choking on the saliva I’ve just swallowed.
Closing my eyes, I pound my feet on the treadmill.
I’ve never had this issue before. I don’t find people attractive generally.
I don’t notice taunting curves and heat inducing muscles.
It’s just not how I’m wired. Coming here has been eye opening in more ways than I can fathom, and my brain feels all scrambled because of it.
Forcing my head to focus on my breathing so I don’t let the overwhelming feeling of being out of control creep into my bloodstream, I feel for the buttons on the machine and increase the speed even more.
The sprint works. I open my eyes after a minute or two and slow back down to a jog.
Deciding I’m done for the day, I slow it even more, cooling down my aching muscles.
Just as I’m stepping off the machine, Head Officer Zephyr walks in the gym and spots me immediately, the stern look on his face halting me like a deer in headlights.
“Nineteen, I need to talk to you.” His voice is one that sends my nervous system into overdrive. Even when he’s not speaking to me I feel my brain shutting down, my flight instinct kicking in, so now that he’s addressing me directly, I’m no more animated than a marble statue.
“What do you need him for?” Tacita is at my side in an instant. Releasing the breath I’d been holding, her body heat is an instant soother to the adrenaline flooding my veins.
“Never you mind, Ninety-Eight. Nineteen come with me,” he beckons as he turns back to the entrance.
I don’t even attempt to move but Tacita’s hand comes around my arm.
Wyatt is watching on silently as well. He’s stepped over the weights so there is nothing obstructing his path to us but he does stay over on the mats.
I shake my head even though Officer Zephyr is no longer looking at me.
He wrenches open the door as if to let me through ahead of him, only he realises I am still standing several meters away.
“Nineteen, don’t make me ask again,” he snaps.
“Where are you taking him?” Tacita asks. “And don’t tell me it’s none of my business, I’m asking because he can’t do it himself.”
“Unless you can read his thoughts, Ninety-Eight, or have been hired as his interpreter then you don’t get to speak for him.”
“The point is he can’t speak,” she counters. “And he doesn’t have his notepad in here.”
“Come on, sir,” Wyatt joins in, snapping my gaze to him. “She’s only looking out for him.”
Officer Zephyr takes a deep breath before slowly releasing it.
I wonder if he’s counting to ten to calm himself.
When he looks back to me my breathing falters, his irises have turned completely amber, the pupils vertical slits.
“Nineteen, will you please come with me? We are simply asking every contestant a few questions, in private, so you can tell us anything you might otherwise feel uncomfortable discussing.”
My hand comes to my throat, my own way of saying I can’t talk. It's a reflex whenever people talk to me and I can’t explain that my voice simply doesn’t work.
“You can use a notepad to write your answers.” His voice is softer but the tension in his hand still on the door doesn’t ease the fear zipping through my limbs at the thought of being alone with him.
I find myself nodding though. I look to my side to see Tacita scanning my face. I pat her hand which is still on my arm before she releases it and I follow the Head Officer away from the gym.
We head upstairs to the second floor. He leads me to an empty classroom and gestures for me to sit, whilst he digs around for some paper and a pen.
Pulling out a chair, I try my best to look relaxed. He comes over, putting the supplies on the table between us, and leans back on the table in the next row.
“I just need to ask you about last night. Where were you after dark?” The question seems innocent enough.
In my room. I write before showing him the page.
“What were you doing?” The question comes out like he’s asked it a hundred times already, which maybe he has? Has he been the only one interviewing us all day? Even though he’s not said it, I know this is about the murder that occurred last night.
I read for a few hours and then I slept.
He runs a hand over the scruff on his chin before he asks the next question. “What about your roommate? Where was she?”
Uh-oh. Do I tell him she wasn’t in our room all night? Do I admit that she was hooking up with Wyatt? What if she expects me to cover for her and I don’t, or what if I tell the truth and then she lies? We will both look guilty, or at least put ourselves on the suspect list.
Deciding to go with the truth, part of it anyway, I scribble, She went out for a while.
Officer Zephyr sits a little straighter at my answer. “Do you know what she was doing?”
I swallow as I turn the notepad back so I can write on it. She was with Wyatt.
His brows knit and lines appear across his forehead as he reads my answer. I’ve only written four words but it takes him several seconds longer than what I would think he should need to read it.
A low grumble vibrates across the space between us, almost so deep it vibrates through the floor. “Thank you, Nineteen. That is all. I’ll escort you back to the gym.”
Confused by the fact that this question session seems to be ending as quickly as it started, I'm left scrambling after Officer Zephyr as he stands and pushes between the tables, heading towards the door.
I have to almost jog to keep up with his broad frame and long strides as we descend the stairs again to the workout hall on the ground floor.
I try to call after him but my throat simply won’t allow it.
Did I say something wrong? I don’t know why learning that Tacita was with Wyatt last night would cause this reaction.
I’m completely at a loss. I wish I was able to warn her though because the excited fury emanating from the Head Guard right now is truly terrifying.
He storms back into the gym, pummelling the doors open with his fists. They nearly hit me as I trail in behind him with the way they rebound off the walls and try to slam closed on their automatic hinges.
“Ninety-Eight, you’re coming with me!” Officer Zephyr bellows into the space, causing all noise to cease immediately. It's impressive considering the gym is one of the loudest spaces with all the equipment.
Silence reigns as everyone stops to look at the hurricane that’s just exploded into the room, and a few glance at me behind him, which has me shrinking back towards the doors.
I shouldn’t have told him the truth. I should’ve told him she was with me all night. I thought the truth would safeguard her, Wyatt is her alibi, it’s not like he can’t corroborate the story. I wasn’t expecting this reaction, and still don’t understand it.
Tacita and Wyatt are still together, although they’ve put the weights away and look to be just sitting on the mats.
She doesn’t bother to stand as she turns to face us.
Her deep chocolate-coloured eyes connect with mine and her face tilts, silently checking if I’m okay.
I give a small nod–physically I’m fine, I just hope she forgives me for accidentally unleashing whatever she’s about to get from Officer Zephyr.
“Care to ask that again, in a nicer tone this time?” She moves her gaze back to the infuriated guard as she answers. She has way more confidence than I do, her response isn’t even sarcastic or demanding, she keeps her voice level, commanding respect.
Officer Zephyr strides over to them, she and Wyatt stand but Tacita keeps her limbs loose. Wyatt, I notice, narrows his gaze and places his hands on his hips to widen his already broad posture.
“I don’t like repeating myself, Ninety-Eight, and I was perfectly clear,” Officer Zephyr growls down at her, his height meaning he is leaning over her.
“And I don’t listen to rude assholes.” There’s a collective holding of breath in the room and a few sniggers. We might be criminals but we all know Zephyr has a short fuse and he’s a powerful motherfucker.
“Hands out in front of you.” Zephyr ignores her comment. I almost feel the angry heat rolling off his body even though I’ve stayed in my position near the door.
“What?” Tacita responds.
The Head Officer slips a pair of hand-cuffs out of one of the pockets on his uniform trousers. They’re like the hand-cuffs I’ve seen plenty of, have been in many times and yet they glint an almost rose gold under the strip lighting overhead.
“Nah-ah, you’re not putting me in those. You didn’t use them on Milo to take him for whatever questions you need to ask.”
“Nineteen wasn’t a suspect in flagranting the rules and killing two contestants outside of the game time.
Hands together.” I watch as the other officers in the room move.
Some step to keep the rest of the group from moving closer to the confrontation, others move like they’re preparing to provide backup to Zephyr should the situation escalate further.
Tacita’s eyes fly back to me, they’re wide and a shocked expression breaks her calm facade. “What did he ask you?”
My heart beats rapidly as I look around in desperation for something to write with. Of course there’s nothing. I try to speak again but all that comes out of my mouth is my panting breaths. I try to remember the few signs she’s taught me for something useful.
“Doesn’t matter,” Officer Zephyr cuts in. “Stop delaying, put your hands out. Now, Ninety-Eight.”
“She couldn’t have done it. She was with me last night,” Wyatt finally speaks and thankfully, it corroborates my story.
“All night?”
I can’t see Zephyr’s face but by the way Wyatt swallows I can imagine the threatening daggers he must be getting.
Wyatt looks down to his right, where Tacita is standing before straightening up once more.
“Yes.”
I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Zamboss,” Officer Zephyr calls over one of the guards that’s been escorting us all day. “Please escort Thirty-Nine to the cells. I’ll deal with him later when he’s had a chance to think about lying to me.”
No, no, no. This can’t be happening. How did me telling the truth escalate into the two people that seem to give a damn about me in this place getting essentially arrested? My pulse is now its own entity, the beat fluttering in my ears as I try to think of some way I can fix this.
Zamboss isn’t as muscular as Wyatt but he quickly overpowers him, getting another pair of those cuffs onto his wrists.
At the same time, Zephyr moves on Tacita.
To my shock, she doesn’t physically fight Zephyr, although she does shoot several threats his way, getting close enough to say something that I can’t hear.
It makes him pause but only momentarily.
Before I can process any further, Wyatt and Tacita are being shoved out the doors and taken to who knows where. And it’s all my fault.