Page 52
Story: Whispers of the Dead
“There was a hallway. Narrow, with doors on both sides. It had to lead somewhere useful. I think the kitchen was right past it. If I would have turned sooner…” Her voice is distant, like she’s there and not here.
I shake my head and lean against the bars that separate my cells. I rest my forehead against the cool metal and listen to her rambles. “That hall doesn’t lead anywhere. It’s a dead end.”
Zoey’s hand freezes mid-doodle. Her brows furrow when she lifts her head to look at me. “How do you know that?”
Shit.
I knew this question was coming. It was only a matter of time. Doesn’t mean I was ever going to be ready for it. I hesitate and scratch the back of my neck to buy some time. The weight of her gaze pins me down. “I may have helpedsecure this place,” I admit, keeping my tone as light as possible. “A little.”
Her sharp blue eyes narrow. “Secure it? What does that even mean?”
“It means I know the layout.”
She tilts her head and watches me with increasing suspicion. “How?”
I sigh and give in, but only as much as I need to. “The three of us, me, Cole, and Damon, we were passing through. Stayed here about a week. Did some work in exchange for food, shelter, and supplies they were supposed to give us when we left. Clearly they don’t keep their promises here.”
She leans forward, sensing there’s more. “And?”
I shrug and try to keep my voice casual, like it’s no big deal. “And then we saw how they operated. Well, the original group that was here wasn’t so bad. Until someone else came in, took over, and drove the good ones away. Eugene is one of them, of course,” I rush to add on at the end. “The invaders, I mean. He was never one of the decent ones who had morals and shit.”
Zoey straightens. She’s facing me full on now. “Who?”
I hesitate. That’s a loaded question, and not one I’m ready to answer yet. My chest tightens and I feel the old memories scratching at the back of my skull as the truth tries to claw its way out. She should know, but I’m terrified of how she might react.
So, I lie. I just fucking lie. Not entirely, but omitting enough of the truth to make me feel guilty. “We didn’t like the way things were run. We disagreed with some of their…practices.”
Her lips press into a thin line. “Disagreed how?”
I hesitate again.
“Were you a dreg?”
I let out a short laugh, though there’s no humor in it. “No, golden girl. I’ve never been a dreg, and I never will be.I like my humanity too much. Even though it gets me into trouble sometimes.” I shake my head and let out a heavy exhale. “We confronted them. Told them they were wrong in some of their practices. They didn’t like that, so they didn’t let us leave.”
Zoey stares into the darkness of my cell. Her expression is unreadable. “That’s it?”
No. That’s not it. Not even fucking close.
The truth burns at the back of my throat. If I tell her about Nathan and what I did, about the chain of events that led him straight to her colony, then I’ll have to live with her knowing, and I don’t know if I can handle that. It’ll change the way she looks at me. There’s only one thing to do. “Yeah, that’s it.”
She doesn’t look convinced. Instead of pushing for more, she leans back against the cold stone wall. Exhaustion etched into every line of her face. When she whispers her next words, her voice is barely audible. “I can’t stay here.”
This sudden change in her puts me on high alert and I move to the corner of my cell. It’s the closest I can get to her, even though it doesn’t do a damn thing to help. “Zoey, talk to me.”
Her eyes search the dark, but they lack their usual spark.
We haven’t had food or water in a little while, but this? This is something more.
“What’s going on, golden girl?”
She swallows, then drops a bombshell I don’t expect. “I need to get out. Maybe…maybe I should eat and drink the food and water. Let them drug me.” Her voice cracks, and she hesitates. “At least then I might get out of this cell again. I could have a second chance to do better.”
Her words hit me like a sledgehammer to the ribs, and I grip the bars. “Make yourself vulnerable again? You’ve seen and experienced what these guys are capable of.”
“Benji, what if…”
“What if this time you don’t come back to us?” My jaw tightens at the thought. “What if this time you don’t get lucky and get away?” She opens her mouth to speak, but I cut her off before she can argue. “What about that guy, Avery? There’s something not right about him.”
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