Stung. Part 18

I hear the tablets crunch in Bowen's mouth. The sound eases a bit of the tension wound tight in my belly. "Now we can go," I say. But I don't want to go on. Something doesn't feel right.

We all grasp hands again and continue through the slop. Holding Bowen's hand is like holding an ice cube. Arrin's is like fire. And every step we take, dread coils more tightly in my belly.

We haven't been walking five minutes when the stuff squelching around my feet becomes thin liquid again, the stench less powerful.

"See? I told you we were almost there! Almost inside the wall," Arrin says, not keeping her giddy voice down.

"When you said you knew a way into the wall through the tunnels, you also meant you know a way up to the top, right?" Tommy asks, voice suspicious. Maybe he can feel the same thing I'm feelinga"unease.

"Duh. Of course there's a way to the top. You just have to know where to go," Arrin answers.

We take three more steps through the pitch-blackness, when I jerk to a stop. Bowen walks into me again, and Arrin's hand slips out of mine. My heart is pounding, and despite the fact that the tunnels are already midnight black, I close my eyes, straining to hear.

"What now?" Tommy grumbles.

"I heard something ahead," I whisper. I reach forward for Arrin, but she's not within arm's reach. "Arrin?" She doesn't reply. We are stuck in darkness, trapped in silence. I hear a rustle from behind, and then a match flickers. Golden light hovers around Tommy's hand. And reflects against a dozen pairs of eyes.

One pair of eyes isn't as tall as the others. The short pair steps forwarda"Arrin, her mouth a hard linea"and points at me. "That's Fiona Tarsis. The Ten."

"Oh no," Bowen whispers. His hand begins trembling in mine.

Tommy curses, and I know without looking that he's got his rifle on his shoulder, aiming at the eyes.

"Put your weapon down, militia man." The voice comes from the shadows. "We've got you surrounded. If you hand over the Ten, we'll let you go. If you try to fight, we'll kill you before we take her. So we win no matter what. You just have to decide how badly you want to lose."

I look around and gasp. There are people behind us, in front of us, on either side of us, even hanging in the pipes overhead. And most of them hold something that shines just like their eyesa"weapons. Tommy grunts and tosses his gun to the side of the tunnel, out of the water.

"You too, Ten. Disarm. We are armed and we are many," the voice says.

I take the small gun from my waistband and slip the rifle off the backpack, and toss them to the side of the tunnel by Tommy's gun.

"You want to come with us now, Ten, or do you want your escort shot first?" The click-clack of a rifle being c.o.c.ked echoes through the tunnel.

Without a second thought, I drop Bowen's hand and take a step forward.

"No! Fo, wait," Bowen pleads, taking a step toward me.

"Bowen, they'll kill you if I don't go with them."

"That's right. She's got to come now," the man in the shadows says.

"Who are you?" Bowen asks, his voice so strong he sounds healed.

"No one important. Just let the girl come to me," Shadow Man says.

"Can I have thirty seconds to say good-bye?" Bowen asks.

There's a long silence. "I'm feeling sympathetic today. Just don't do anything stupid."

Tommy's match goes out, but another light flares overhead. The man hanging in the pipes hands a lantern to us.

Bowen opens his arms and I step into them. He rests his forehead on mine and a new knot of worry tugs tight inside of me. He's no longer colda"his forehead is flaming hot against mine and parchment dry. "I'm pretty sure these guys are the men who run the black market, which means you're going to the pits," he whispers, eyes staring into mine. "I'll come for you as soon as I can. I promise. Just a don't give up hope. And fight to stay alive if you have to. Fight!"

A rough hand grabs my wrist and yanks me away. I reach for Bowen and catch his outstretched hand, our fingers clasping before I'm pulled away from him. Bowen's face tightens.

"Get the Ten out of here, boys, and escort Bowen and his buddy to make sure they don't follow us," Shadow Man orders. Bowen and Tommy start sloshing through the muck, a group of armed men at their backs. When I can no longer hear their retreat, Arrin reappears.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" she asks, gnawing on the side of her thumb. She bites a piece of skin off and nibbles it with her front teeth.

"Are you so hungry you're eating yourself, Fec?" answers Shadow Man.

Arrin spits and glares into the shadows. "Where's my reward? You promised me sixteen ounces if I brought her in." Her stomach grumbles.

The man laughs, and Arrin pulls a knife from her shorts, growling, poised to kill. The man laughs harder.

"You'll get paid, don't worry. But do you really think you deserve honey? For selling Fecs on the black market?" He glances at the tattoo on her hand. "And what happened to that Three you promised earlier this week?"

"That was Fiona's fault. She got him killed in the camp," Arrin growls.

Dumbfounded, I stare at Arrin. "You were going to sell your own brother to these people?" I ask.

Arrin rolls her eyes. "I don't have a brother. And where's my honey? Pay me now so I can get out of here and trade the honey for some real food."

"The only payment you'll be getting is the same fate as the Ten," Shadow Man says. I swear I can hear a smile in his voice, though his face is still hidden by darkness.

Arrin gasps. "But who will get you Fecs for the pits? And what if the governor hears about this? He's trying to get her back inside the wall."

"Who do you think asked me to put the Ten in the pits in the first place?" Shadow Man says with a laugh. "He said use any means possible to find her. I wonder if he knew I'd use the Fec that supplies mea"and hima"with other Fecs. You're going to the pit."

Arrin's knife trembles and falls to the ground at her feet. "The p-p-pit?" she stutters. "But I get Fecs for the governor to bleed! If he finds out you put me in the pits, he'll kill you."

"That's where you're wrong," Shadow Man says with enthusiasm. The reason the governor hasn't yet shut us down is that he is too concerned with collecting the dead bodies we provide. He won't even know you're there until it's too late. Wonder what he'll think when he opens the body bag with you in it. Best bit of irony I've heard since the day I learned the elite children of the country were all going to turn to beasts." The man chuckles.

Arrin screams and tries to run, but the man in the pipes swings down like an ape and lands on her. Two more men step into the circle of light and take Tommy's and my rifles. Others move out of the dark. They are clean, neat men, with brushed hair, wearing clean, faded clothing. They look like the type of men who used to take their kids to the park on warm afternoons or wash their cars on Sat.u.r.day mornings. Until you see the guns in their hands, and their shifting eyes.

Two men stop beside me. One pulls my arms forward and fits cuffs to them. "Are you familiar with electromagnetic cuffs?" he asks. He has brown hair, parted on the side and combed into place.

I nod.

"Good. I'd hate to kill you prematurely."

The cuffs hum and pull together. Arrin, pinned to the floor, is cuffed, too. As I'm shoved past her, she glares up at me, brown sludge caking her face.

"This is all your fault." She hisses. "If they put me in the pit with you, I'll tear your throat out with my bare hands."

I stare straight ahead and walk.

Chapter 31.

Overhead, a circle of dim light appears, and I squeeze my eyes shut against the blinding shock.

"You want me to uncuff them, or are we going to hoist them up?" asks the man jabbing his gun against my spine, the man who has been guiding me through the tunnels, with his hair combed neatly to the side.

"A Level Ten? And that Fec? No way are we going to uncuff either of them. Hoist for sure. But bag their heads first," another man answersa"Shadow Man. I've memorized his voice.

A thick, scratchy hood is pulled over my head, and the light is gone. Behind me, Arrin starts to scream and spit. Someone grunts and curses. The air crackles and the cuffs on my forearms grow warm. Arrin's scream turns to a whimper and then silence.

"You shocked the Fec?" someone asks.

"Yeah. Little b.u.g.g.e.r bit me," Shadow Man says. "I'm probably going to get some Fec disease."

Men chuckle like they're discussing a naughty dog. The sound makes me too hot, makes me want to jump on them and scratch their eyes out. Just like I tried with my mom. Maybe I am going to turn after all.

A rough cord is looped across my chest, under my arms, and behind my back. "Walk forward two steps, Tarsis." The voice is so close it makes me jump. I take two blind steps forward. "Now, don't flail. You'll fall and crack your head open if you do," the voice warnsa"the voice of my guide.

The cord bites into my armpits, chafing my skin through my shirt, and my feet leave the ground. I spin in a slow, lazy circle and try to catch my breath through the thick wool hood as I ascend toward the hidden circle of light. Hands are on me, pulling me to the side, and through the hood, pinp.r.i.c.ks of light shine. My feet touch hard ground, and the cord grows slack beneath my armpits.

I'm herded over a floor that thumps hollowly beneath my feet. Small human sounds reach my earsa"panting, whimpering, coughing, a snarl.

"Where am I?" I ask, my voice m.u.f.fled by wool.

"You'll see soon enough," my guide says. His gun jabs my back, keeping me moving blindly forward.

The floor turns from smooth and hollow to grainy beneath my shoesa"cement. A smell penetrates through my thick wool hood, and my mouth starts to water. Onions. And b.u.t.ter. I'm starving. A loud rumble comes from my stomach, and I wonder how I can even think of food at a time like this.

"Duck your head," the voice says.

I duck, and hands push me from behind, hard. I topple forward, my feet tangling together. The floor crashes into my face, and one of my cuffed hands pops under the impact of my body. Fire shoots up my wrist, and I writhe against unexpected pain.

"Careful with her! We don't want her bruised. She's going in the pit in the morning, and oh what a show it will be!" a deep voice saysa"Shadow Man.

"In the morning? Why so fast?" my guide replies.

"Governor's orders. He said if we acquired the Ten, put her in ASAP. Something about this kid scares him. And since we caught that other Ten yesterdaya"two Tens in one match. Together. Can you imagine the food that'll be trading hands? We'll be loosening our belts!"

"But the males aren't as aggressive toward the females," my guide says.

"This one will be, trust me," Shadow Man says with a chuckle. "He's injured and so psychotic, he killed three men on his way here. He attacks anything that moves, not to mention a" Feet shuffle away and their voices fade.

Something clicks, and then my cuffs lose their charge, and I am free to move my arms. I try to push myself up but gasp and fall back onto my face. I don't dare move. Not with pain burning from my pinky finger to my elbow and making me want to vomit.

Using my elbow, I manage to roll onto my side. Even that makes my hand hurt. With my uninjured hand, I pull the hood from my head. Metal bars surround me on three sides. On the fourth side is a smooth metal wall, and overhead looms a low metal ceiling.

Someone sucks in a deep breath. I look toward the sound and yelp. Forgetting the pain in my hand I scramble to my feet and crack my head on the low ceiling before falling back into a crouch. And then I see the bars separating us and sigh.

A girl, probably my age, squats in the cage beside mine. She looks human enough, except she has her narrow face pressed against the bars of my cage, her dilated eyes are devouring me, and drool drips from her chin.

She reaches one of her sinewy-strong arms through the slotted bars and swipes at me with jagged yellow nails of all different lengths. I freeze as air swishes against my face. When her reach falls short, she hisses and tries again, jamming her body against the bars to get her hand as close to me as possible. Her nail teases my hair and I whimper.

Never taking my eyes from her, I inch my way to the other side of the cage and press my shoulder blades against the bars. The female howls and slams herself against the bars separating us, making my cage rattle.

Behind me something stirs and groans. I look over my shoulder and stop breathing, stop moving.

In the cage on my other side is another beast, curled up in fetal position with his back to me. He is a broad-shouldered male, his skin covered with scabs and bruises and half-moon teeth marks. He whimpers and jolts, his hands and feet paddling the air like a dog dreaming about running. I scoot to the middle of my cage and sit with my back pressed against the metal wall. If I sit in the cage's exact center, neither beast will be able to reach me. Hopefully.

Stiff and rigid as granite, face forward, I breath shallow wisps of air that hardly make my rib cage move. The female beast lurches for me, her hand mere inches from my shoulder. After a few minutes she gives up.

Slowly, with the pa.s.sage of time, I notice the throbbing pain in my hand again. Without moving my head, I look at it and whimper. At the sound of my voice, the female beast snarls and rams her body against the bars separating her cage from mine. She does it a second time, making the bars shudder. I scoot an inch toward the male beast on my left and close my eyes, cradling my swollen, deformed pinky to my chest, trying to ignore the panting coming from the female beast.

Minutes or hours pa.s.s. I don't know which. But my finger has doubled in size and turned purple, and the female beast has drooled a pool of saliva into my cage. And I smell food.

From the corner of my eye I see the beast to my left stir. He stretches his long, lean body and sits, staring out the front of his cage. Feet thump on the ground and something squeaks. For the first time I take a good look around, moving my eyes without turning my head. The room is long and narrow and lined with cagesa"like an animal sheltera"and most cages are occupied. But instead of holding stray dogs and cats, they hold beasts and Fecs. The cage across from me houses a slack, bony form with short, chopped hair, wearing my old shorts. Arrin.

A man pushing a cart with a squeaky wheel walks slowly in front of the cages, pausing before each to slide a plate under the two-inch gap beneath the door before dumping its contents onto the cage floor. When he gets to Arrin's cage, she doesn't move. Even when the man slides a pile of slop into her cage and dumps it onto the floor by her head.

One by one, he feeds all the caged things on the opposite side of the room and then starts on my side. He slowly makes his way toward me and pauses at the cage beside minea"the female beast's cage. Cautiously, he slides a plate under the cage, dumps the contents onto the floor, and then yanks the plate back lightning fast. The female beast sniffs but doesn't move from her position, staring at me like I'm dinner.

He comes to my cage and pauses, peering at me through the bars. Then he slides the plate under, dumping a heap of greasy meat and mostly onions on the grease-stained floor. He doesn't move on to the next cage but watches me like he did the female beast. And then he fills the plate again and adds a second helping to my first.

"You eat up," he whispers with a wink. My lower lip trembles, and my eyes fill with tears. This man is showing me compa.s.sion. I try to smile at him, but then he says, "I bet honey on you. Don't make me regret it!" My smile turns to a frown.

He stands and pushes the squeaky cart to the male beside me, and I look into the cage. The male beast isn't paying attention to his dinner. His face is pressed against the bars as if he's finally noticed someone is in the cage beside him. I meet his unblinking eyesa"eyes I have known my entire lifea"and gasp.

The memory of pain burns down my back, fire beneath my skin, and Bowen's words come back to me.

"You have scars from here to here." He trailed his fingers down my entire back. "They look like they're from fingernails."

The walls were white tile, and light glared from them.

A man with thick white hair put his face in front of mine and looked right into my eyes. "You're only going to feel a little p.r.i.c.k, and then everything will fade. You'll be at peace." He wore a white doctor's coat with a name tag clipped to ita"Doctor Page.

I lay on my stomach. Thick leather straps held my naked body against a cold metal table. Straps that ground into my ankles, the backs of my knees, my bare hips, my lower back, my shoulders, even across my head. Jonah was in the room, too, right in my line of sight. Sedated, naked, and strapped to a stainless-steel table just like mine. Drool dripped from his slack mouth and pooled beneath his cheek.

"I don't want this!" I yelled. The metal clung to my sweaty cheek, making it hard to talk. The strap on my forehead made it impossible to see what was going on behind me, but I could hear people moving arounda"the doctor and someone else.

"You may not want this, but your mother does. She is your legal guardian. Her decision outweighs your wants. She's doing it in the hopes that you'll survive long enough for us to find a cure," Dr. Page said from behind me. "It's what's best, Fiona." He walked around to where I could see him again, tilted his head to the side, and peered right into my face. A shadow of doubt flashed in his gray eyes, filling my entire body with panic. "You're much too sweet to give up on."

I snarled and lunged for him, making my table-bed lurch, yet I hardly moved beneath the leather straps. The doctor jumped away from me and frowned.

"Jonah," I cried. "Help me!" But he didn't stir. Didn't even close his mouth.