Chapter Sixteen
The group of five weren’t far from their dormitory when the Kaizen halted them, a pair of her red-dressed lieutenants at her flanks.
Next to the Kaizen stood a girl, her dark eyes so wide that they were almost perfect circles.
Her frizzy blond hair enveloped her head like a halo, and the numbers one-seven-eight were imprinted on the left shoulder of her jumpsuit.
Gemma cocked her head. What in the blazes is going on?
The Kaizen pointed at Gemma. “You. One-three-four. Come with me.”
It felt as if all the blood left Gemma’s body.
Leadership couldn’t have suspected her yet. Blending in was what she did best in Perileos; most people didn’t even know she existed. It was the entire reason Reymond had recruited her for the Dissent.
Yet, the Kaizen wouldn’t have called her out if there wasn’t a motive.
Gemma fingered her poison ring. She couldn’t go back to Perileos. It was either fulfill her mission or die.
But she also couldn’t say no to the Kaizen.
Gemma couldn’t find the courage to look at her teammates as she stepped away from them, a knot forming in her chest.
“Follow me,” the Kaizen said. Her lieutenants waited until the girls obeyed before taking up the rear.
Gemma and one-seven-eight stayed on the Kaizen’s heels, but barely. The captain’s feistiness matched the ginger hair on her head; her speed was unparalleled.
Gemma couldn’t keep track of the twists and turns they took. They even rode a couple lifts to an area that was nothing but red stone. Condensation dripped from the ceiling, and lights were strung along the walls, as if they had entered one of the mines in Perileos.
“In here,” the Kaizen said as she slid open a metal door. Her lieutenants took up positions on either side.
Gemma’s stomach sank to her feet, her body turning cold. Thick wooden beams adorned the ceiling, from which rusted chains dangled like the withered fingers of the damned. A multitude of instruments of pain were arrayed around the room, highlighting how cruel the Kaizen had become.
A torture chamber—there was no other word for it.
The Kaizen knew about her. Somehow, she knew.
Nadine, forgive me. Gemma stifled the tears that filled her eyes. No matter how much the Kaizen hurt her, she wouldn’t let the captain see her cry.
In the center of the room was a metal table, on which were undoubtedly dried blood stains. One metal chair sat on the side closest to them, and two were on the opposite.
The Kaizen pointed to the pair of chairs. “Sit.”
Gemma fell into one of them, her knees weak. A lump the size of her fist settled in her throat, bile burning below it. The Kaizen sat across from them with a look in her eyes that promised death.
“I don’t understand,” one-seven-eight said. “Why are we here?”
The Kaizen’s steely eyes bounced between them. “One of you two is a Dissent agent.”
Gemma’s heart stopped.
The captain sat back in her seat. “Normally, I’d shoot both of you, but I’m in the mood for a game. So, I’m going to figure out which of you it is.”
“Wait, what?” one-seven-eight shrieked, her voice cracking.
The Kaizen ignored her outburst. “You both grew up in Sector 45, correct?”
They nodded, unable to utter a word.
“Reymond—you know, the guy from all those wanted posters—was seen leaving that sector the night you all left the city. Now, you two are the only ones from there who participated in the Trials this year. Which means, one of you is a Dissent operative. So, I’ll give you ‘til the count of ten to tell me which of you it is, or I’ll kill both of you. ”
No.
“I’m not a traitor. You have to believe me!” one-seven-eight pleaded, wrapping her arms around her body.
“Ten,” the Kaizen began.
“Please, neither of us are part of the Dissent,” Gemma lied, her nails digging into the flesh where she gripped her thighs.
She would not give in. Not yet. She knew it was wrong and that she was risking one-seven-eight’s life, but if she could convince the Kaizen they were both innocent, neither of them would die, and she could complete her mission.
“Nine.”
One-seven-eight wailed, the sound piercing Gemma’s bones.
Gemma sat forward, her legs trembling. “Captain, you have to believe me. We aren’t with the Dissent. We want to go to Oranos and get off of Reva.”
“Eight.” She swore the corner of the Kaizen’s mouth twitched up.
Gemma’s brain scrambled, trying to find a reason to stall her. “This Reymond guy . . .He could’ve been there seeing anyone. Who told you it was a contestant?”
“Seven.”
Both Gemma and one-seven-eight jumped when the door to the torture chamber flew open. Rami stepped inside, and Gemma dug her fingernails further into her thighs.
Of course he’d come to watch us die.
“May I speak to you a moment?” he asked the Kaizen, his eyes casting a concerned glare at the gun in her hands.
The Kaizen released the heaviest sign Gemma had ever heard. “Fine. But make it quick.”
Rami and the Kaizen left the room together, slamming the door behind them.
Hope burrowed its way into Gemma’s heart. She could get out of this. All they needed was a plan.
One-seven-eight cried into her hands. Gemma firmly grabbed her shoulders. “What’s your name?”
“Moriah,” she whispered, barely audible.
“Okay, Moriah, here’s what we’re gonna do. When the Kaizen comes back and starts counting, we’re going to tell her we’re both part of the Dissent.”
“What?” Moriah yelped, her eyes opened wide.
Gemma held up her hands. “But then we’ll argue with each other to distract her, try to convince her that we’re attempting to save the other’s life. That’ll annoy her, right?” Moriah nodded. “So, that’s when we jump. We’ll attack her, steal her gun, and run.”
Moriah sniffled, her lower lip quivering. “Run where?”
Gemma shook her head. “No idea. But any where’s better than dying here by her hands, right?”
Moriah hesitated, considering, and Gemma’s palms started sweating.
If she and Moriah succeeded, Gemma would go back to Perileos and into hiding with the Dissent, where she and Reymond would come up with a new plan to kill Rami.
Winning the Trials was the easiest way, but it couldn’t be the only way. They’d figure something out.
But first, Gemma needed to get free.
Just after Moriah nodded, the door slid open, and the Kaizen returned.
Gemma’s heart raced. She squeezed her thighs to keep her hands from shaking. Stars, help us.
“Now, where were we? On number six, I think,” the Kaizen said once she’d taken her seat.
Gemma waited for Moriah to speak. She wouldn’t say anything until she knew Moriah was fully on board. Gemma couldn’t jeopardize everything she’d worked so hard for by admitting when she could attempt another angle.
“Five,” the Kaizen started.
Still nothing.
“Four.”
Gemma’s heartbeat echoed in her ears.
“Three—”
“Fine!” Moriah shouted. “It’s me. I’m the operative.”
Gemma’s pulse increased. This is it. “No, it’s me. I’m the operative,” she blurted.
“No, it’s me.” Moriah eyed Gemma, pleading.
Gemma turned to the Kaizen, trying to maintain balance between convincing and fibbing. “She’s lying. It’s me.”
“No, it’s me!” Moriah said.
The Kaizen raised her gun calmly. “Okay, that’s enough. I’m shooting you both.”
Gemma gave Moriah a terse nod, and they sprung out of their seats, the Kaizen’s eyes widening as she realized the girls had played her.
But Gemma’s trousers snagged on her chair while Moriah flew across the table with a roar.
No, no, no. Moriah couldn’t do this alone.
Gemma watched in horror as Moriah slammed into the Kaizen, knocking them both to the ground. Gemma wrestled with her trousers’ leg, catching her palm on a piece of metal as she freed the fabric. She leapt up and sprinted around the table—
Boom!
A large, gaping hole appeared in Moriah’s back as her insides sailed into the air.
Gemma froze, unable to breathe. Blood trailed from Moriah’s body down the Kaizen’s sides, pooling into a glossy red puddle on the ground beneath them.
The Kaizen’s lieutenants rushed in with their guns trained on Gemma. “On your knees! Hands behind your head!”
The Kaizen shoved Moriah’s dead body off her and rose to her feet, sneering at Gemma with such frantic fury that Gemma’s bladder almost gave out.
Tears fell from Gemma’s eyes as she obeyed, dropping to the ground and interlocking her fingers behind her skull.
This is my fault—this is all my fault.
“What the fuck was that?” the Kaizen roared. “I will tear out your insides, you stupid little prick.”
Gemma shook her head. She should tell her the truth, that she was the operative, that she’d gotten Moriah killed. That it was her idea to attack. That they should kill her right now because she was a horrible, vile, wicked person who deserved to die.
But she couldn’t. Nadine would be so angry with her if she did. Nadine would tell her that she had done what she needed to survive. Nadine would’ve done the same if she’d been in Gemma’s shoes.
“It was her,” Gemma lied, every word tasting like bile. “Moriah . . . She was with the Dissent. When you stepped out of the room, she came up with a plan to attack you and steal your gun and run.” Her jaw trembled. “I was so scared that I agreed . . . I didn’t—I didn’t know what else . . .”
The Kaizen clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes. “Get her out of here,” she told her lieutenants. “I don’t want to see her fucking face anymore.”
One of the lieutenants in red grabbed Gemma by the arm and dragged her from the room.
Gemma’s legs moved of their own accord, the world spinning around her until her soul felt separated from her body.
Somehow, she ended up in her locker room.
On autopilot, Gemma undressed and got in the shower. She stood under the stream, staring at the wall as the image of Moriah’s decimated body burned into her mind.
A sharp sting in her hand turned into a dull ache. Gemma watched as bloodstained water trickled down her fingertips and onto the floor. She’d gotten the large gash in her palm when she’d ripped her trousers’ leg from the chair.
Moriah lunging for the Kaizen, alone, flashed through Gemma’s mind.
Her knees buckled.
That innocent girl died brutally because of her vindictive plan.
Gemma threw up in the drain and sobbed until her throat was raw, her arms wrapped tightly around her stomach.