Pandoras like Levi’s ram, G-6.
Most of the animals have lash marks across their faces and torsos. Even the bear has a large wound across his midsection that appears infected. Seeing the laceration, I remember the creature had similar injuries when Titus was traveling with us. At the time, I assumed it was from the fight with our Pandoras. But now I’m certain it’s Titus’s doing, that he’s abusing his own Pandora. Though the bear makes me extremely nervous, I can’t help but feel a pang of sorrow.
Madox, thank God, appears to be in perfect condition. Surprisingly, he isn’t fighting against the rope. It’s like he knows not to upset Titus. It seems all the Pandoras think the same thing.
Don’t startle the psycho.
I decide to take this as my own personal motto.
“Isn’t my collection awesome?” Titus presses his nose to my cheek. “And now I’ve added one more to my display.” I think he’s implying Madox, but when he runs his hand over the back of my neck, I realize he actually means me. “Good thing my prized possession comes with the best Pandora on the market.”
Letting me go, he points toward the top of the tree. “See what else I picked up?” I glance up and spot RX-13 among the branches, a rope wrapped around her leg. “That Harper bitch sure doesn’t need it anymore.”
My head wants to snap around to look at him, see if he’s telling the truth, but I try not to move instead. He’s trying to get a rise out of me, but he won’t get it. I know they didn’t kill Harper. They couldn’t have.
Right?
Titus walks to his guys and kicks them each in the ribs until they wake. They don’t even complain. They just pull themselves out of the sand and look to Titus for direction. “These are the Triggers,” he says. “But I told you that already, didn’t I?” He nods to himself. “But did I tell you that we’ve been following you since the desert race started? I told my guys, I said, Stick with me, ’cause I know a girl and her fox who can win this thing for us. And when they do, we’ll all share the Cure.”
“You can’t do that,” I say. “The Cure is to save one life.”
“Who says? A voice from a little contraption?” He scratches his head with the tip of his knife, mussing his slicked-back blond hair. “When I win, I’ll make sure my guys are taken care of.”
Though I know he’s dangerous, I can’t help but wonder if he’s right. Can the Cure be shared? Can the rules be changed? Looking into Titus’s dark brown eyes, I know that even if they can, he isn’t going to help these people.
“Tella, listen. I know you may be pissed now, but you’ll come to realize I’m your best bet of winning part of the Cure. You’ll learn to like me. Hell, you might even learn to love me.”
“If you think that’s true,” I snarl, “then you’re even dumber than I thought.”
Titus nods toward Madox. “Dumb like a fox.”
His guys — the Triggers — laugh like this is the funniest thing they’ve ever heard. Except the huge one, the one who sleeps like a terrified child. He smiles, but never quite laughs. I wonder if I could find sympathy with this guy. If he might help me escape. But I quickly dismiss the idea. Anyone who sides with Titus is someone I can never trust.
“Thirsty?” Titus asks, holding up two canteens. I assume one is mine. For a moment, I consider refusing his offer. I don’t want to take anything from him. But I know if I want to survive this day, this heat, then I have to be smart. I nod. He hands me a bottle and says, “We didn’t know what the hell we were going to do about water. Good thing you guys had a Pandora who could create it, or whatever it is that elephant does.” His narrow nose wrinkles. “Though I’m not sure I enjoyed drinking after you. Pretty disgusting, actually.”
“How will you find water now?” I ask, after I drink from my nearly empty canteen.
Titus smiles. His teeth seem too big for his mouth, but they’re alarmingly straight and bright white and not altogether unpleasant to look at. “I guess we’ll have to find base camp quickly.” He reaches for my canteen, and I shove it in his hand. Behind us, the guys start untying the Pandoras. I hear an animal grunt, and I whip around. One of the guys — who has a severe case of acne — is kicking a stag in the legs.
“Stop it,” I yell, but the guy continues his abuse. Turning to Titus, I say, “Stop him or I’ll kill you. I swear to God, I’ll kill you.”
“Oh, I’m shaking.” Titus mimics being afraid as I imagine stabbing him in the pectoral. He looks at the guy hurting the Pandora and says, “All right, stop beating on that thing already. We have company. Manners, people.”
When Acne Face cuts Madox lose, I run toward him and lift the fox into my arms. Madox presses against me and I whisper in his ear, “I won’t let them hurt you.”
“How touching.” Titus pulls two canteen straps over his head. “Now let’s keep moving. We head toward those rocks. That’s where you guys were going, right?”
I want to mislead him, but another part of me wants only to rejoin my Contenders. To be with Guy again. Knowing Titus will probably head north anyway, I decide to pretend I’m easily breakable and tell him the truth. “Yeah, we thought maybe base camp was beyond those formations.”
“Splendid,” he says. “Let’s skedaddle.”
The guys form a line behind their leader, but Titus insists I walk next to him. As if we are equals. As if we are friends. As if. I squeeze Madox so tight, he yelps and I have to let him down. Several times as we walk, I glance at Levi’s Pandora. The ram has cuts along his muzzle and one of his kneecaps seems to be breaking through the skin. Even worse than the sight of him is the groaning sound the animal makes as he walks. Tears burn my eyes when I realize the creature won’t make it much farther. It makes me hate Titus so much, it’s almost scary. He may not have laid a hand on any creature besides his own, but these guys listen to him, and he obviously allowed this to happen.
As we continue through the worst hours of the day, I question why Titus is chancing traveling while the sun is up. Guy assumed most Contenders would move during the night, but Titus seems determined to get to base camp. Watching him unscrew his canteen and take a pull, I suddenly understand there’s a reason beyond winning the five-year cure: We’re running out of water.
The stolen Pandoras surrounding us look beaten into submission, but I’m still curious as to why they don’t try and escape. It almost seems like once their Contenders were out of sight, they lost track of what their purpose was. Like they’ve turned into zombie animals or something. Watching Madox trudge through the sand, tongue hanging from his mouth as he pants, I pledge to never let that happen to him.
“Enjoying the weather?” Titus asks. Even covered in sweat and filth, he’s not unattractive. His wrestler build, deep-set eyes, and wheat-colored hair make him my best friend Hannah’s exact type. But it doesn’t take X-ray vision to see that his insides brim with wickedness.
“It’s great,” I say evenly. If I can play nice and make it to tonight, then perhaps I can escape while they sleep. Even if they take shifts like we do, I’ll have a better chance of fleeing when it’s one-on-one. “What exactly is your plan when we get to base camp?” I ask, trying to appear social. “You know my friends will make it there. And there’s no way they’ll let you hold on to me.”