Avenged (Altered #2)(18)

As they loaded into the chopper, Nick’s eyes held hers, intense amidst the activity around them. His message was obviously for her. Texted Blue and Seth, too. They’ll come for us. He kept repeating the words, as if he wasn’t sure she was listening. Or as if he was trying to reassure himself.

She shook her head at him and looked away.

They hadn’t come before, and they wouldn’t come now. But she wasn’t going to ruin this for him. It had been bad enough when her own hopes died. She’d let him hold on to his for awhile longer.

If they were going to escape, they’d need to find their own way out.

When they landed back at the complex, Dr. Fields and his orderly greeted them on the tarmac. As the changed soldiers ushered her and Nick off the helicopter, holding their hands behind their backs, they stopped in front of Fields.

“Kitty, Kitty.” Dr. Fields shook his head, as if he was disappointed in her. “You should know better.” Then he waved a hand at the orderly next to them. Without a word, the man lifted his gun and shot both her and Nick, in quick succession.

As the tranquilizer took effect, she tried to catch one last glimpse of the sky. The sun was coming up, and it had been months since she’d seen it. But her eyes closed of their own volition, leaving her again in the darkness.





Chapter Six


Nick surfaced from the blackness slowly.

He was on a bed, but it smelled musty, like it hadn’t been aired out in years. Or ever. There was no sheet.

As his eyes came open, he found Kitty crouched over him, staring at him.

“Thank the Lord.” Her shoulders slackened, and she fell backward onto her bottom, closing her eyes. “You were breathing so slowly.”

He rubbed his head as he sat up, trying to shake the last vestiges of fog. “I guess I was sleeping. Where are we? What happened?”

“Give it a second. It’ll come back to you. That’s how it always is with the tranks.”

He glanced around the room, taking in the basement chic of it. Concrete-block walls, concrete floor with a drain in the center, as if whoever cleaned here did it like they would a fast food restaurant: with bleach and a hose. There were two cots, the one he was laying on and another like it on the other side of the room. There was a makeshift bathroom in the corner, with a small sink, a rudimentary toilet, and a pipe jutting from the ceiling. In the center of the room, a light bulb hung from an electrical wire. There was only a pull-string to turn it on or off.

The room had one window, about the size of a ship’s porthole. Maybe smaller.

It was a cell.

That’s right. Goldstone. The cave. The other changed soldiers.

“How long was I out?” How long had she sat there watching over him was what he wanted to ask. She’d seemed upset. He tried not to like that very much. She hadn’t wanted him to die. Because she was a good person. Not because she liked him.

He needed to get a grip.

“I’ve only been awake for a few minutes. Ten maybe.” She shrugged. “Time is fuzzy in places like this.”

He could imagine.

“This isn’t the room you were in, though.” He glanced around them. “This isn’t like any of the rooms at the complex.”

“No.” She lifted the front of her hair and pushed it away from her face. “They must have moved us while we were unconscious.” She knelt then got to her feet, stretching her back. “Where were we before?”

“South Dakota.”

“Oh. Well, I doubt we’re there anymore.” Her brow scrunched up. “Funny. I’ve never been to South Dakota before.”

That’s what she latched onto? He searched the room, frantic. “Are there cameras in here?”

“Dunno.” She studied the room as well. “Usually the cameras were propped in the corner. Both in the last complex and the first. I don’t see any, though.”

He didn’t, either. The entire structure was cement block. There was a steel door in the corner, and the only power seemed to be going to the hanging light. If there were cameras, they’d have to be battery powered. “You think there’s a microphone?”

“I don’t see any. I doubt they’d waste small, inconspicuous cameras or microphones on us.”

He went to the walls, running his hands over them. No cracks, no openings. Nothing.

“I think we’re alone,” she offered as he continued to survey the place.

He could barely hear around his heartbeat.

Captive. He was a prisoner. He let the utter devastation of it wash over him.

Martins would have no idea where they were. Again. It might be months before they were found.

He’d failed.

His head dropped into his shoulders, and he gritted his teeth. How the hell was he going to get them out of here? This room was locked down. They had a better chance of surviving an atomic bomb in here than of ever getting out on their own.

Damn it.

“Are you okay?” Kitty’s voice cut into his silent diatribe.

“As if you don’t know.” He lifted his head on a bark of self-derisive laughter. “You, the only person who doesn’t have to ask that question, can hear my self-criticism firsthand.” He tapped the side of his head. His failure was bad enough. Sharing it with her was the whipped cream on this shit sundae.