16. The Interrogation
We get to the main street in less than an hour. When we pass the spot where my car was, I look around, but it's nowhere to be seen.
"They took it," he says loudly, so I can hear him through the helmet.
"When?" I scream back, then remembering he can probably hear me just fine.
"This morning."
I'm confused. When did they have the time to actually tow my car away? Didn't half the town evacuate yesterday?
When we make it even closer to town, he suddenly stops, making me cling to him even more tightly than before.
"You gotta walk from here," he says, putting one foot on the ground. But he doesn't move. Why doesn't he move?
I can see him look down and I follow his gaze—my hands are wrapped around his waist, I'm still clinging to him. I hadn't even realized that I was doing it. I jerk my hands back so fast I nearly fall off the bike.
He takes off his helmet and gets off the bike. My legs are shaky and I nearly stumble, grabbing the seat for balance. He tilts his head, watching the whole display.
When I finally stand, I am unsure for a moment what to do next.
"OK, bye," I say before I start to walk.
I can already see the town underneath me.
It shouldn't take long to get there—maybe ten to fifteen minutes.
I try to think where I should even start looking for the files.
The control center is huge and I was only there for a few hours.
I don't even know where the bathroom is, let alone where they'd keep important files.
"Communicator," he yells after me as I start walking.
"What, Grumpywolfleader?" The nickname just pops out before I can stop it. Where did that even come from?
He makes a sound that's somewhere between a laugh and a snort. "Seriously?"
I don't reply to that. I'm making myself way too comfortable saying embarrassing shit to him.
"Don't get yourself hurt," he calls after me.
I give a thumbs up without turning around and start walking. I expect to hear motor noises of him hiding in the woods with the bike, but he doesn't move. Weird. Is he gonna wait for me here? Actually, we haven't really talked about where to meet later. I turn around. "Where are we gonna—"
He's gone. The bike sits alone on the side of the street. I look around. He's nowhere to be seen.
OK then, let's mysteriously find each other afterwards. Whatever.
When I get to the town it looks abandoned. There are cars parked along the street, but positioned weird. A few doors are standing open. There's a grocery bag spilled on the sidewalk with cans rolling around.
I keep walking, looking around. The silence feels wrong. Something about this is creeping me out. I stand still for a moment and then realize what my instincts are trying to tell me.
I feel watched.
I try to make my way to the control center as fast as possible. I feel unprotected out on the street, with nowhere to hide. I don't want to give that advantage to whoever is watching me.
When I reach the control center, I try the door. Locked. Shit, John never gave me the key.
I look around—no one in sight. The windows are bulletproof; breaking in through those is not happening. Also, let's be honest, I would probably not be strong enough to crash through the window anyway.
I'm standing there trying to figure out what to do when I hear footsteps creeping up behind me. What is h—
"—Don't move," a female voice says before I can turn. Something hard presses against my back, handcuffs, and I'm shoved forward into the glass. "I've got her. She came alone."
"I don't understand—"
"Shut up." She presses me harder against the window. "Don't you move, traitor."
The word hits me like a slap. "Traitor? What are you talking about?"
"Shut up."
Four black vehicles screech around the corner, engines loud in the empty street. I know those vehicles immediately—specialized forces. My stomach drops. How are they here already? We're in the middle of nowhere and the incident was just yesterday.
Miller must have planned ahead. Shit.
The woman behind me tightens her grip. "Target secured. She's alone like we thought."
"Copy that," comes a voice from one of the vehicles. "Bring her in for questioning."
"What's going on?" I try to ask, but she just pushes me harder against the glass.
"You know exactly what's going on," she says. "Question is whether you're gonna cooperate or make this harder on yourself."
Keys jingle as she unlocks the control center door. She doesn't give me time to look around, just shoves me forward in the hallway. Our footsteps echo off the walls as she marches me past the reception desk, down a corridor, and toward a stairwell I didn't even know existed.
"Move," she barks when I hesitate at the top of the stairs. She pushes me down and through a narrow hallway lined with doors that look more like cells than offices.
She opens one and shoves me inside.
Small, windowless, with concrete walls and a metal table bolted to the floor. She sits across from me, a file folder in her hands.
"So," she begins, opening the file. "You survived a night with the wolves."
"Yes."
"That's interesting. Do you know how many humans have done that in the past five years?"
I shake my head.
"Zero." She leans back in her chair. "Not one. Every human who's encountered this pack has either died or never been seen again."
"Well, I'm here."
"Yes, you are." She studies me like I'm a specimen under a microscope. "And that makes you either very lucky, very special, or very complicit."
"Complicit in what?"
"That's what we're going to find out." She flips through some pages. "Tell me exactly what happened from the moment you left the meeting yesterday."
I tell her everything—how the wolves took me after the meeting, how I spent the night in their territory, what they told me about wanting justice.
"And they just let you walk away?" she asks when I finish.
"Yes."
"Just like that?"
"They said they wanted to give diplomacy a chance."
She writes something down. "How generous of them."
"You know, we've been hearing a lot about you lately."
"What do you mean?"
"Dr. Miller's been asking questions. Seems he's concerned about your... attitude."
My blood goes cold. "What kind of questions?"
"The kind that make us wonder why you especially applied for this town."
I haven't. Miller assigned me to it.
She flips through her file. "New graduate, no field experience, no previous contact with wolf territories. Makes a person wonder why you wanted to be here..."
"I...," Shit, I don't even know how get out of this mess.
"Dr. Miller seems to think you might have been compromised before you even got here."
"Excuse me?" I lean forward. "Compromised how?"
"You made a deal with them." She stands up and starts pacing. "You helped them plan their attack."
"What attack?" I ask, still confused about how one person could spin so many lies.
"Don't play dumb. We know they're planning something. The only question is how deep you're in it."
"I'm not in anything!" Well, till yesterday I wasn't, so it's almost the truth right?
"Then explain to me how you survived when no one else has."
"I don't know! Maybe I got lucky!" That's the truth.
"Luck." She sits back down, closer to me this time. "Let me tell you what I think happened. I think you've been in contact with them for months. I think the shooting was planned to give them an excuse to escalate. I think you're their inside person."
"That's insane." At least from her perspective.
"Is it? A new Communicator request to be sent to the most dangerous territory in the region. She meets with the wolves and somehow walks away unharmed. She comes back with stories about accidents and misunderstandings." She leans even closer. "Sounds like a setup to me."
"You're wrong." I stare at her. "I've told you everything."
"No, you haven't. You're protecting them."
"I'm not protecting anyone."
"Okay, maybe you're just protecting yourself then."
We stare at each other. This goes on for what feels like hours. She leaves me alone for long stretches, then comes back with new questions, new angles. My head starts to pound. I'm thirsty and exhausted and confused. Where are the wolves now? They have to have noticed I am not coming back.
"Last chance," she says, grabbing my arm roughly. "Tell me what you're planning."
Before I can answer, John walks in.
"Knew you weren't cut out for this job from the beginning," he says, looking at me with disgust. "Should have sent a real Communicator."
Before I can tell John to please go fuck himself, the lights go out and we're standing in complete darkness.
For a second everything is still, and then I just start to run, moving on pure instinct. My shoulder hits a door frame and I stumble through it into what feels like a hallway.
I hear shouting, footsteps running in different directions. Someone's calling for backup. The emergency lighting kicks in, casting weird red shadows everywhere. Behind me, flashlight beams are cutting through the darkness.
"Where is she?" I hear her scream.
"She was right here!" John says.
"Check the exits!"