Page 120 of Sawyer

“The doc likes to play the news for us.” She sighs. “It’s disturbing. He wants us to know what’s happening outside of this facility but not be a part of the world.”

“How long have you been here?” I sip more of my juice. The sugar hits me and gives me a little bit of energy.

“I don’t know,” she answers honestly. “I like to talk to the new girls though.”

Including me, there are only eleven of us, and I count again. The others picked up their small talk, and a few glance our way but keep to themselves for the most part.

“I’m the new girl.” What happens when there are new girls?

“Yes, and I know what you really want to know.” She avoids my gaze, looking around before sighing heavily. “If you can stomach it, try to eat the toast. The food doesn’t suck.”

I look at my plate of toast, bacon, and fluffy eggs. “What am I preparing for?”

“There are eleven of us,” she says instead. “Five omegas, including me.” That answers that question. “And six gammas, including you. I think we are the last.”

“What do you mean by that?” I’m hesitant to open my silverware packet, but I do. Something tells me she’s right, and I’ll need my energy.

“This is the third floor I’ve been on.” She opens the packet for me when I struggle to get it open. “I don’t know how many there are, but they are all the same. The doc’s goal is always the same.”

“Goal?” I take a hesitant bite of my toast, finding it surprisingly perfect, which only annoys me.

“You may as well know because he won’t tell you.” She picks at the end of my bacon. “He’s trying to force a heating cycle on gammas.”

“That…” I pause with a bite of eggs halfway to my mouth. “That’s impossible.”

“One would think,” she mutters, but I can tell she believes the impossible is possible. “He used to cut the girls up and study their organs.”

I drop my fork, feeling nauseous all over again, especially when I recall the gammas we found and their scars.

She sets a hand on my shoulder. “You should eat.”

“Right.” I grab my fork again but end up just moving my eggs around.

“We are similar, you and I, and the doc believes that by keeping us together, we will magically be the same.”

“You don’t believe that, but you believe he can induce a heat cycle in a gamma?” I blink at her, not sure what she actually believes.

“Gammas don’t have the organ that produces slick. Not exactly.” She grabs my hand and force-feeds me. “However, they have something that lubricates the vaginal canal.”

“You talk like a scientist.” I’m starting to wonder if this woman is okay.

“That’s because she’s been here the longest.” A woman with olive skin slumps into a chair beside us. “And she’s a little fucking crazy.”

I eye this new woman, who has light hazel eyes and dark hair like me. Her unblemished olive skin still has a healthy hue to it, labeling her as a newer prisoner. She has a fierce aura to her that I instantly love, and I’m pretty sure she’s a gamma, but I can’t be positive.

“I’m not crazy. I’ve just accepted my circumstances,” the blonde replies. Clearly, she’s been drinking the Kool-Aid.

“Right,” the new woman drawls, and I wish they’d tell me their names, but it feels like that’s something they keep to themselves. “She isn’t telling you that they will try to pair you with an alpha and see what happens while pumping pheromones into your room, and yeah, we do believe that the doc can induce a heat cycle because he has.”

“What?” My face falls. “There’s no way.” A small sliver of hope threatens to weasel its way into my heart.

“Again, he won’t tell you, so that shit is up to us to fill in the blanks.” Her tone is brutal, unforgiving, and no-nonsense. “Gammas are a deviation of omegas, just as deltas are a deviation of alphas.”

“What?” I can hear my blood rushing in my ears again. What they are implying is not possible.

“We are omegas,” the dark-haired woman says, leading me to believe she is a gamma. “All of us gammas are omegas. We’re just missing a few evolutionary developments.”

“You’re implying gammas are just what?” I squeak. “Developmentally delayed?”

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