55. Make Him Pay
FIFTY-FIVE
MAKE HIM PAY
Seven
E verything hurt. My throat was bruised, but that was the least of my worries.
I wiggled my fingers. Then the toes on one foot. The other leg was pinned, my knee throbbed violently.
I propped myself up on one arm, wincing and wiping at my face. My hand came away red.
A huge, cracked slab of concrete covered the bottom half of my body. I gripped it with one hand, pushing with every ounce of energy I had to spare. Which wasn’t much.
It didn’t budge.
Where was Two?
My chest seized. If she’d been crushed under that concrete …
It would save us having to put her down , the whisper told me.
I hated that I felt a small sense of relief at that.
The room shook again, and the concrete shifted, the crack splitting further, exposing jagged, sharp, twisted metal but freeing my trapped leg.
With a shriek of pain, I scrambled backward, away from the rubble. My palms bumped against something squishy, and I leaped away from it, heart in my throat.
Was it Two?
No … it was just one of the dead men.
Letting out a breath, I inspected my leg. My knee was swollen, and a deep gash split my shin down to my foot. It would heal, but I was running on fumes, and I didn’t know how long I had before I needed to fight again.
Or who I’d need to fight.
Where was Two?
A low groan came from the rubble, and a pale hand wiggled, catching my attention.
Adrenaline seared through me, energy thrumming.
Kill her … before she gets free , the whisper urged. Do it now!
I can’t …
I staggered to my feet, hissing at the intense pain in my bad leg. Limping over to the concrete, I jammed my shoulder against the slab and pushed. My muscles burned, but I planted my feet, gritted my teeth, and ignored the pain in my leg. I pushed until it tilted and then fell away. Exposing Two.
Her black hair was matted to her scalp, and blood coated her face. But my eyes fell to the twisted metal that protruded from her chest. She wasn’t moving.
“Two,” I moaned, my own pain ignored as I fell to the floor beside her, my hands fluttering pointlessly around the metal. It was attached to concrete stuck under her. I couldn’t remove it.
Kill her! Now! the whisper snarled.
NO!
Two’s eyes fluttered, then snapped open, unerringly already focused on me. I took a step backward at the malevolence in them.
KILL HER!
I ignored the whisper, stepping back again. Giving myself space, frantically weighing my options. There had to be a way to extricate myself … extricate us both from this.
There isn’t. We will die if you don’t end this.
Two’s face split in a horrifying grimace. Without taking her eyes from me, she bent her legs, pressing her feet flat to the floor beneath her. I watched, frozen, as her body contorted gruesomely, and with a sickening, sucking sound, she pulled herself off the metal post.
Blood gushed from the wound, but she didn’t seem to notice, turning and springing for me with agility that shouldn’t be possible with those injuries.
I threw myself sideways just in time, and Two sailed past me, landing with a horrid, squelching sound on the body of the dead man with half a head.
I’m going to have to kill her . Agony pierced my heart at the realization.
Yes , the whisper agreed, her mind-voice sad. Let me help you.
I gave myself over to the shift as Two lurched to her feet, flicking bits of brain off her hands.
Her eyes darkened when she looked up, finding us in our tiger form, a tail twitch the only tell that this was the last thing we wanted to do.
Her feral grin exposed bloody teeth.
She lunged for us. We leaped at her.
Her fist pounded into our chest, breaking ribs and knocking the wind from us. Our paws wrapped around her, claws digging into her back, holding her to us, even as pain darkened the edges of our vision.
She spat blood into our eyes, her fingers clawing into the fur at our throat. We blinked furiously, snapping at her, but she was so strong. She was able to hold us just far enough away that our teeth couldn’t reach her, even as our claws dug deeper into her back, grinding against bone.
While I’d been laying about my cell, plotting revenge and awaiting my daily servicing, she’d been honing her body, her power, her endurance … and losing herself completely.
“You’ll never kill me,” Two grated, spitting more blood in my face. “You and your fucking morals. Life is so much easier without them.”
We growled low, throwing ourselves to the side and rolling. Over and over, we tumbled. Her head hit a chunk of concrete, bouncing sickeningly, but her eyes stayed locked on ours, filled with a murderous gleam. We landed on top of her, our weight slowly crushing her. But she gritted her teeth and dug her fingers deeper into our throat, finding our trachea and squeezing.
Our growl was cut off suddenly, air whistling through a hole too small for us to get enough oxygen.
“You always did think you were more powerful than me, parading around in your big-cat form,” Two grated, pinching tighter. But her body was small, so much smaller than ours, and her words were breathless. She might have been pinching our airway closed, but we were crushing her lungs.
Neither of us would die like this. But one of us would pass out temporarily, and then it would be over.
Blackness crept into our vision, our front paws going numb under the weight of both of us. Another explosion rumbled …
Two’s fingers slipped off our trachea. We sucked in a deep, desperate breath. She’d blacked out.
Finish it, the whisper murmured.
We let out a ragged, tormented roar.
And bit down on her neck. Bit deep. Crunched through muscle and sinew and bone. Severed her head from her body.
There was no way back for her.
The shift retreated so fast that I saw stars. With a garbled moan, I rolled away, sucking in a breath. And another. And another.
Two would never breathe again.
Slowly, agonizingly, I stumbled to my feet, slipping in the mingled blood of everyone I had killed.
I swallowed, wincing and fingering the bruising on my throat. I didn’t want to look at what I’d done. But I forced myself to. Forced myself to look at her, mangled and broken, her face barely recognizable around the blood and torn flesh.
My friend … who’d been abused by this place in a far, far more horrific way than me.
I stood, smearing blood over my cheeks as I swept tears away.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you, Two,” I whispered hoarsely.
Now we kill Baxter , the whisper vowed.
I blinked, turning towards the wall of glass. For a moment, I’d forgotten about him.
The glass had shattered. Concrete and rubble piled everywhere.
Baxter was gone.
Jack!
Jack was gone, too!
Rage exploded in my gut, burning away my grief. Chasing back my fear for Jack. Dulling the pain of my injuries.
I sprinted for that room behind the glass. I ignored the sharp pricks of jagged glass in my bare feet as I launched myself through the shattered window and through the open door on the other side.
More destruction greeted me. Rubble piled to the ceiling, a mess of concrete and dust and jagged metal.
And Baxter, halfway up the pile, scrabbling frantically at it like he could move it with his bare hands.
“Coward!” I snarled, my voice raspy but furious enough that it carried, and he flinched. “You broke her, and you didn’t even have the decency to stay and witness her die for you!”
Baxter turned, scrabbling and slipping on the mountain of broken concrete. His features were so bloated they looked grotesque. “We’re all going to die in here, Seven!” he snapped.
“Wrong!” I snarled. “ You’re going to die in here.” I started climbing the rubble. “But first, you’re going to tell me where Jack is.”
Baxter’s eyes, puffy and bloodshot, widened. “Mercer took him out of here before … before this happened. He’s probably safe outside now. If you … if you agree to let me live, I’ll … I’ll make sure you and he are reunited.”
I sneered, even as my stomach dropped. Had he made it out? Or was he under all these tons of concrete and metal and glass and who knew what else?
“I’ll make sure you die in here, in this hell of your own creation. And then I’ll get out, and I’ll find him on my own. I will always find him.”
I planted a foot, pushed up, and kept climbing. The teetering pile shuddered. Baxter sucked in a shaky breath.
“Don’t! You’ll bring the whole thing down on both of us!” he pleaded. I ignored him.
“Fucking stupid freak, your body is broken! I can help you get out of here!”
I stepped again.
“Don’t come any closer … I’ll take you out!”
I looked up at him. In trembling hands, he held a long metal bar in front of him like a sword.
“Coward,” I cursed him again. “Without your minions, you’re nothing but a terrified, blustering fool.”
I climbed another step.
He swung his makeshift sword. It sang through the air.
I caught the end of it, my fingers stinging … skin tearing off them.
I spun, yanking it with all my strength.
Baxter went sailing past me, landing with a sickening thud on the floor at the base of the rubble. His skin split in several places, blood weeping out.
Jack’s blood. I could smell it … mixed with the sour, grotty scent of Baxter.
Make him pay! the whisper demanded.
Oh, I plan to.
I shuffled down the rubble hill, my bloodied, ragged fingers still gripping the metal bar.
Baxter rolled onto his back, coughing blood all over his filthy uniform. He blinked up at me.
“You—”
I slammed the metal down on his shin. His bones shattered, and he screeched out his pain.
“No more words from you,” I warned, lifting the bar once more. “You will listen. That” —I gestured to his shattered lower leg— “was for Twelve. For the way she screamed when you kept Nineteen away from her.”
“It was just—”
I lifted the bar, bringing it down point first on the foot of his uninjured leg. He howled as the metal impaled his foot, bones smashing, blood oozing. I ripped the bar out again, enjoying the way he writhed at the pain.
“That was for Nineteen. For the bullet he took in his stomach when all he wanted was to get back to his Joined.”
Baxter tried to scramble backward, his eyes bloody and petrified. I swung the bar, and it hit true, right between his legs. His ruddy face went bone white, the breath gusting from him soundlessly.
“That hurt, didn’t it?” I asked. “That was for their baby, who died before it had a chance to live because of you and your vile experiments.”
I pressed one foot to his thigh, holding him still. His eyes darted to mine, cloudy with pain now.
“Don’t you dare faint on me, Baxter. You will hear every word I have to say to you.”
His hoarse whimper was enough.
I used my other foot to lift the bottom of his shirt, exposing his stomach. The end of the bar was sharp but not sharp enough to make this clean.
Perfect , the whisper thought viciously.
I pressed it to one hip, dragging it across his abdomen. Pressing down.
A groan ripped from him as his innards spilled through the split skin and muscle.
“That,” I snarled, “was for Agent Grace Petersen … who helped us escape, and had to claw her own stomach open to make it look believable. I wonder if you knew you had Shifters on your own staff. Seems like quite the oversight.”
Blood frothed from Baxter’s lips, his head shaking from side to side.
“P…please,” he breathed.
“Did you ever stop your torture of any of us when we pleaded?” I demanded. “Did you ever see us as living beings? Or just a weapon that unfortunately could think for itself?”
I stepped past his steaming intestines, planting the tip of the bar to the center of his chest. Dragging it just enough to cut … to bleed, as I carved a number on his torso.
“That is for Two. For the feisty, cheeky girl she was before you turned her into a monster. For everything she could have been if you hadn’t broken her. For driving me to kill her, to save her from the fate you forced upon her.”
I leaned closer, scooping concrete dust off the floor and rubbing it into the number. “Now you’ll die branded with her number, too.”
Bloody tears streamed down Baxter’s face, his lips trembling soundlessly.
“I’m almost done with you, I promise,” I whispered, straightening. Then, slamming the length down against his mouth. Shattering teeth, and splitting lips, and breaking his jaw.
He gagged on his teeth, unable to even spit them out.
“That was for Jack! My Jack, who you tried to force into raping me. My Jack, who should never have been in this place. My Jack, who is the bravest man I’ve ever known. Who willingly walked back in here to give me a chance to do everything I’m doing to you now.”
Baxter’s eyes fluttered.
Finish him, before he blacks out and misses his own finale! the monster cried.
I leaned down, slapping his cheek, gripping his ruined jaw. His eyes met mine, completely devoid of hope.
Exactly the way he’d wanted us to be.
“And this is all for me, you piece of shit,” I muttered.