Page 3

DAMON

T he stars never move.

Every night, they hang in the same pattern, scattered like shards of glass in the black sky above the tiny, barred skylight window in the empty cell next to mine.

I can’t see much from my cot, only a sliver of the world beyond this cell, but the stars never change.

They don’t care about the rotters clawing at the walls, the stink of blood and decay, or the weight of hopelessness and failure pressing down on my chest until I can’t breathe. They merely are.

Eternal.

Untouchable.

I tap the ring on my index finger against the cot’s metal frame. The sharp sound cuts through the silence, making it a little less daunting. The rhythmic clink is the only thing that distracts me from the moans of the rotters shuffling around outside these walls.

“Knock it off,” Benji mutters from two cells down. There’s an empty cell between us to keep us separated. I can’t see him, but I can make out the frustration laced in his voice. “Some of us are trying to sleep. ”

“Then sleep,” I reply, my tone flat. I don’t stop.

Clink.

Clink.

Clink.

“Hard to do when you’re over there playing the world’s saddest drum solo,” he shoots back. “Don’t tell me you’re giving up again. It’s depressing.”

I don’t answer. Benji always talks like he has something left to fight for. Maybe he thinks he does. I used to think I did too, but that was before. Before we learned, in excruciating detail, that there’s no way out. Every attempt ends the same: with pain, humiliation, and tighter restraints.

The hardest truth I’ve had to accept is the fact that I got us into this mess, and I’ll never be able to get us out of it.

The tapping stops when I clench my fist, and the ring bites into my skin. Benji sighs. “Cole, tell him he’s being dramatic.”

Cole grunts from across the hall. It’s the only response he ever gives, but it’s enough. Typical.

Silence stretches between us. It’s thick and heavy and I hope it will swallow the conversation.

Then the sound of a key scraping in the lock at the far end of the hall snaps me back to reality.

My body tenses and my instincts kick in.

It’s never good when they come at night.

The dregs like to take their time in the dark when no one else is watching.

Benji is their favorite, because he’s the only one of us who still has hope to break, so I’ve gotten pretty good at making myself the target, instead.

The door groans open, and the sound of heavy boots echoes off the walls. I brace myself, ready to take whatever they dish out. Better me than Benji or Cole.

But the footsteps don’t stop at my cell. Instead, there’s a commotion. A muffled struggle. The scuff of boots against concrete. Then? —

A woman’s strained voice breaks through the silence. “Get off me! Let me go.”

My cot creaks beneath me when I sit up. There hasn’t been another prisoner in here since they locked us up months ago.

The dregs laugh when they shove her into the empty cell between mine and Benji’s.

The barred door slams shut with a metallic clang, and their footsteps fade back down the hall.

There’s the telltale click of the lock, followed by silence.

There’s nothing but the woman’s heavy breathing and the scratching of the rotters outside.

Then, the sound of metal rattling. The woman shakes the bars, testing them. A sharp exhale. The scrape of fabric against stone. The slow, heavy breathing of someone trying not to break.

The moonlight from the barred window behind her barely reaches where she sits, but I can make out her dark outline, with her fingers still curled around the bars.

The dirty sole of her single boot catches the faint glow where I can see how scuffed and over-worn they are.

She’s been out there for a long time. She’s a fighter.

It’s a shame she ended up in a place like this that grinds people down until they’re nothing but broken ghosts of who they used to be.

When it becomes clear she’s not getting anywhere, she lets out a shaky breath and slumps against the door. A sniffle escapes her, followed by a soft curse.

I should stay quiet. Keep my head down, like always. Yet, there’s something about her, about the way she’s already unraveling, that makes my chest tighten.

“There’s no way out.” My voice bounces off the stone walls, surprising even me. “Not unless they let you out.”

She freezes. Then she raises her head and turns toward my voice. Her breath catches when she speaks. “Who’s there? ”

“Name’s Damon.” The name sounds foreign on my tongue, like I haven’t spoken it in years when it’s only been months. “And no, I’m not a hallucination.”

She’s silent for a long moment. I can almost hear the wheels turning in her head. Then she finally speaks again, and her voice is like a sad melody. “How long have you been here, Damon?”

“A while.”

She lets out a hard breath and her voice wavers. “I’m going to die in here.”

The raw honesty in her tone makes me pause. I slide off the cot and crouch in front of the bars that separate our cells, and rest my elbows on my knees. “Not if you don’t give up.”

A humorless laugh escapes her. “Says the guy who sounds like he already has.”

Benji snorts from his cell on the other side of hers. “She’s got you there, Damon.”

“Shut up, Benji,” I growl out, but my lips twitch despite myself. I can’t help the flicker of amusement I have when she lifts her head into the moonlight, and I can see the ghost of a smile when the corner of her mouth lifts. Leave it to Benji to make the saddest girl in the world smile.

Then the moonlight catches the faintest curve of her cheek, and it’s enough for me to wonder what she looks like in the light. My gaze locks in on her mouth when she speaks. “How many of you are there?”

“Including you? Four.” Benji answers first.

She leans her head back against the bars, and I can no longer see her mouth. “I’ll get out,” she whispers. Then, more firmly, “All of us will.”

Benji perks up. “Now that’s the attitude we need.”

I let her words sit for a moment. Her determination sparks something I haven’t felt in a long time. Maybe she’s passed us up as the crazy ones here. Or maybe she’s exactly what we need after all. Her mere presence is already shaking the darkness from my soul.

She shifts again, her movements restless.

The faint scrape of her boots against the floor echoes in the silence.

I can’t see her clearly in the dim light.

All I can see is the faint outline of her sitting near the door, but she’s scooted closer to me now, resting her head against the bars behind her.

She’s maybe only a foot away from me now.

I break the silence. “What’s your story? What’s so important that you’re willing to fight these bastards to get back to it?”

Her head turns to look at me, but I know neither of us can see the other. It’s pitch black in this block, save for the stream of moonlight illuminating part of her cell. “Isn’t freedom enough?”

“Freedom.” I run my tongue along my bottom lip in thought. “That’s an interesting concept. What’s waiting for you outside these walls?”

I lean forward, eager for her answer. For me, the only ones I care about are the two guys in here with me. There’s nothing waiting for me out there.

She hesitates, and I can hear the tension in her breath. “I have friends…”

“I see.”

“My best friend, Emily, she needs something. Medication. So I went out to find it. When I did—” Her voice cracks, and she clears her throat before continuing.

“When I did, they came out of nowhere. A group of dregs. They ambushed me while I was stuffing it inside my pack. I tried to fight them off, even stabbed one, so he’s struggling to walk now.

” She lets out a small chuckle that almost makes me smile.

“There were too many of them. I only managed to…well, I think I cut off the dick of one of them before they shoved me in the car. ”

Benji lets out a low whistle. “Damn, lady. You don’t do anything halfway, do you?”

Her soft laugh surprises me. “Guess not.”

For the first time in the months since I was shoved into this hellscape, a ghost of a smile tugs at my lips. The movement is so unfamiliar that it feels foreign, and I even think I can feel my lips crack. I can’t take my eyes off the shadowed woman a foot away from me. “Bold move.”

“Yeah, I’m full of bold and bad ideas.” Now there’s a bitter edge to her tone. “They took everything. My pack, my knife, my…all of it.”

Her hesitation at the end tells me she’s leaving something out. That’s fine. She doesn’t know us. If she’s lucky, she won’t get the chance to.

There’s something different about her. Not that I’ve met many decent people since the world went to shit. But her…there’s something. I don’t know what it is, but it latches onto me until I find myself drifting closer to the bars that separate us.

Benji, of course, ruins the moment. “So what’s your name, mystery girl?”

She sighs. “Zoey.”

I let the name roll around in my head, wanting to taste it on my tongue, but also not wanting to weird her out. Zoey .

“Nice to meet you, Zoey,” Benji says with exaggerated politeness. “I’m Benji. Not Benjamin. That grumpy bastard on the other side of you is Damon. Across from you, brooding in the shadows but listening to every word, is Cole.”

Zoey turns her head to peer through the bars at Cole, who’s swallowed by the shadows. The only thing visible in the darkness is his eyes that seem to glow in the dark. The green orbs watch her, unblinking, unwavering.

“Cole doesn’t talk much,” I add. “Don’t take it personally. ”

“I’ll try not to.” She turns around again and leans back against the bars. “Why are you guys here?”

I hesitate, unsure how much to tell her. The truth isn’t pretty, but then, what is these days? “We crossed the wrong people. Got ourselves into a mess we couldn’t get out of.”

Her voice softens. “You’ve given up?”

I bristle at the implication. “It’s not that simple.”