Touch (Denazen #1)(49)

“Afternoon, Yancy. I’m taking Deznee here on a tour of the cells. We won’t be long.”

Yancy nodded and unlocked the door. I could feel his eyes on me as we passed. When I looked back, he caught my eye for a second and then looked away. Maybe not everyone at Denazen took as much pride in their work as Dad.

We entered the room—though it wasn’t actually a room, more like a wide, unbelievably long hallway. Lining both sides were glass enclosures.

Cages, actually.

We started down the row, stopping at the first occupied one. “This is 101,” he said, knocking the glass twice. It reminded me of the casual way he used to tap the fish bowl in the living room.

The girl inside was younger than me—thirteen maybe. Fourteen tops. Large green eyes, glazed and lifeless, stared ahead. Her thin lips parted slightly, and at the right-hand corner, a small trail of pinkish liquid leaked down her chin. She sat on a cot in the corner with her hands folded neatly in her lap. On the floor by her feet was a weathered looking blanket and headless blue teddy bear. She wore a pair of ratty, stained sweat pants and a nondescript, oversized white T-shirt.

“Why is she up here?” It took all my focus, but I managed to control the rage in my voice. Kale had been here his entire life. Was this his life at that age?

“101 has been with us for a few years. Her mother was killed in an accident, leaving her alone and penniless. We found her and took her in. About a week ago, she snapped and attacked a doctor here.”

“How did that little thing attack anyone?” Unless the kid was sporting a mouthful of needle-like teeth and poisonous spit, I didn’t see it. She couldn’t weigh more than eighty pounds soaking wet with two bricks in her hand.

“101 has the ability to stop your heart. That little thing killed three people before we were able to sedate her.” He pulled down the chart hanging next to the door.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did she do it? She must’ve had a reason.” I knew I was hopping on thin ice, but couldn’t help it. Something had to make that poor girl snap. Maybe she’d spent an hour with Mercy…

“Nothing made her do it. Sixes snap sometimes. It happens.”

I should’ve kept my mouth closed, but couldn’t. “Do they? Is that what’s gonna happen to me? Am I going to end up in one of these cages with a number instead of a name, Dad? The next time I flip you off or come home buzzed from a party?”

He turned away from 101—I wondered what her name had been—and shot me a superior grin. “As long as you keep yourself out of trouble, you have nothing to worry about.” He held my gaze for a minute—which felt like an hour—before moving on.

At the next cage he said, “Here we have 119. He’s what we call a charmer.”

I guessed he didn’t mean ladies man. “Charmer?”

“There are many different variations of his ability on record, dating back as far as the early eighteen hundreds.” There was a hint of fascination in Dad’s voice. “His caress can make a victim fall under his control. We believe his kind are the inspiration behind stories of Incubi.”

I watched him through the dirty glass. The man on the other side had a handsome face with an expression similar to 101’s. He wore a pair of the same light gray sweat pants and simple white shirt. His brown eyes, though not quite as vacant as the young girl’s, stared straight ahead, unseeing. “So why’s he up here?”

“119’s situation is a bit different from 101’s. He’s only been with us several weeks, all of which have been spent here, on level nine. We brought him in after the local police three towns over picked him up. They found him running a brothel.”

“So he was a pimp? That’s a big deal to Denazen?”

“It is when your girls are virtual zombies. They suspected him of kidnapping and drugging the girls.”

“But it wasn’t drugs, it was his gift.”

“Correct.”

We moved past several empty cages and came to the next occupant.

“We picked 121 up about a week ago. I believe she went to your school?”

I looked through the glass, horrified to see my fellow senior-to-be classmate and sometimes rival, Kat Hans, wearing the same dead stare as the others—broken and blank. Her auburn hair, normally kept so meticulously styled, hung limp, and her previously perfect complexion was dull and gray. We’d had our differences, but seeing her like that made me furious. Since third grade Kat had talked of becoming a vet. I was betting that dream died the moment Denazen laid eyes on her.

“That’s Kat Hans! She went missing last week.”

“She’s been here with us.” He turned away from Kat, disgusted. “Kat has been working with us for quite some time. Her father, Dean Hans, is one of our record keepers on level five.” Dad tapped the side of his head. “He has a photographic memory.” Dad glanced back at Kat. “His daughter’s gift is a bit like 119’s, only less dangerous and highly controllable. She can temporarily paralyze you with the touch of her fingers if she chooses.”

“And lemme guess, she tried to paralyze someone she shouldn’t have?”

Dad shook his head. “Not quite. You see, we allowed 121 to work with us because of her age and connections. As you know, Dax Fleet, the man who ransomed you, is among those trying to hamper Denazen and ruin all the good we do. We thought to use 121 to infiltrate and tear them down from the inside out. However, as it turned out, she was a spy for them—not us.”