“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” She shrieks in agonizing pain. The sizzle of her skin and smell of the burning flesh reaches even me. Her head flips back, the tendons tight, as her mouth opens to scream again.
The sound of her shrill vocals snaps Mac from his bloodied stupor, and the next part happens so fast I barely catch the blur of movement. Mac breaks free and uses his remaining hand to pull a dagger from his boot. He lunges forward and throws it straight into her heart with a sickening thump. Instantly, her chin flops to her chest.
“Oh my God!” escapes from my mouth.
Wilson shakes his head, aims his pistol, and blows Mac away. Bits of brain and blood spatter those closest to the stage and they frantically try to brush it off. I bend over and heave at the sickening sight.
“What a pity,” Wilson says. “I wanted to torture him a tad longer.”
The people around us stand with grim faces. I feel their hatred, anger, and despair. The message is clear—the guards still own the Hole and no one, not even their own, is free from their judgment.
I look at Cole, but he shakes his head as if saying don’t speak. I wonder if he knew the guard who was executed, but there’s no chance to ask him as he pulls me along while shoving through the crowd, dispersing with heavy feet. I feel hopeless.
Cole leads me around the back of the hospital and past the stares of several groups of distraught guards. The eyes I want to avoid most are Wilson’s, but he glares right at me. His uniform is slick with the blood of his victims—a picture of Satan himself.
“ID card and access code,” the guard says at the post. Cole hands over his ID.
“Access code 0406.”
“I need to see hers as well.” The guard motions to me.
After checking the paperwork, he turns, eyes me with a hungry smile, and winks. “You may proceed.”
I wonder what the paper says, but there’ll be time to ask later.
We enter a garage filled with tanks and other military vehicles. No graffiti lines the walls, no broken glass littering the cement floor. It’s the cleanest place in the Hole. The incandescent lights of the training center brighten the garage, making it seem almost livable in comparison to everywhere else. Halfway in, I stop to throw up between two parked vehicles. I can’t purge my mind of the images of the executions, and my stomach won’t settle.
“Pull it together. We don’t have time for this.”
“I’m trying,” I say, trying to catch my breath. But then I heave again, making a loud, retching noise.
Ugh, stop bringing attention to yourself.
“Is that it? Geez.”
“You could try being sensitive, you know.” I stand and wipe my face with my collar, trying to make myself presentable.
“You saw what happens to those who’re sensitive. Now come on.”
“But that’s different,” I mumble back.
He jerks me aside. “Are you trying to get yourself killed? Me? Just shut up and move.” He stands so close I can see the veins in his eyes.
“I didn’t mean—”
“Is there a situation here?” A guard interrupts us.
Cole steps back and salutes. “No, sir.”
“It sounds like your sinner has quite a mouth on her. Do you need me to set her straight?” His icy stare is unreadable, but his hand moves to the baton strapped at his side.
“No, that won’t be necessary. I have it under control, sir,” Cole says.
The tall guard glares at me with cold, blue eyes and steps forward until he stands in front of me. He twists his head toward Cole. “I know she’s your first female prisoner, so I’m making this clear now… Weakness is not acceptable.” Then he touches a lock of my hair, fiddling with it between his fingers. “She’s delicious though, isn’t she? Lust. How tempting. You should really watch that mouth of yours, darlin’, or we’ll find a better use for it.” He hisses in my ear like a snake.
I pull my head away from him and step backward into Cole. His chest tightens the second I touch him, so I freeze.
“At ease.” The guard spins, but shouts as he walks away, “Oh, Cole… don’t forget we’re watching you as well!”
For a moment, I’m frozen and Cole’s face turns various shades of red. I can’t tell if he’s furious with me or with the guard, but he’s definitely angry. Zeus whines at his side, startling me. With the intensity of the morning’s events, I forgot he was even with us.
“Let’s get out of here. And don’t speak,” Cole says.
Fear overrules my humiliation. My fingers tremble and my heart flutters anxiously. I stay close behind him as we enter the training center. The last thing I want to do is enter a building teeming with more guards, but I have no other choice.
The training center looks like an indoor dome. Different stations take up sections of the massive room. On the walls, I glimpse an arsenal of weapons comprised of numerous makes and models of guns and knives of all sizes and even unsuspecting weapons such as sticks and batons. Everything gleams in the light as if polished daily. I don’t have a name for most of the things I see, but I know they’re all lethal in the hands of a guard. At one particular station, men line in a row, shooting at a moving target. The noise is deafening without ear protection and I cringe at the echo of each discharge. Another group suit up in all of their combat gear to perform a simulated attack. Some turn to watch us, while others focus on the task at hand.
“Keep your head down and walk,” Cole says to me. Zeus growls at the man nearest to us, so the man turns around and goes in another direction. The elevator door closes after we step in and Cole swipes his badge.
In the relative safety of the elevator, I can’t hold it in any longer. “I can’t believe he killed her. Why would he kill her? If he loved her—”
“Because he loved her.” Cole cuts me off. Without any invitation, he keeps talking. “Everyone’s known about Mac and Claire for a while. Mac’s been a friend of mine since we joined the guards. I have no doubt he did it because he loved her. He knew they’d torture her just to break him. And they’d do it in front of him.” Cole pauses and closes his eyes for a moment. “He killed her out of love. The very love that most of us will never feel because we aren’t allowed.”
“Wow. How did I not see that?” I ask.
“Because you don’t know what it feels like to be in love.”
“And you do?”
“I’m not having this conversation with you.”
“What was up with Zeus back there?”
Zeus cocks his head when I mention his name. Cole leans against the wall and puts his hands on top of his head.
“That’s him being protective of you, I guess. Not sure why he didn’t rip off the guy’s head in the garage, but he didn’t.”
“He can do that?”
“Have you not seen his teeth?”
“Okay, stupid question.” I look down at Zeus as he presses his wet nose into my thigh. I place both of my hands around his head and kiss him between his ears. “Thank you.”
Nothing more is said. One, because I’m trying to block out what I just witnessed, and two, because I want to forget about the “him being in love” question. The elevator heaves to a stop. Getting off at the eighth floor is harder today than yesterday, but I put my shoulders back and walk toward the desk, attempting to mentally compose myself.
Cole signs me in. “I’ll be back at seven,” he says in a brusque manner.
“Yes, sir.” The trauma of the morning has me itching to go back to my dirty room and lie on my mattress.
Without any further instructions, Cole reenters the elevator with Zeus. Rage is written on his face as he punches the buttons. His eyes narrow to slits and his posture stiffens as if ready for a fight. I make eye contact with him just as the door closes with a squeal. If anyone accused him of rage, he’d have a hard time proving them wrong.