Page 40 of Tainted Gifts
Then I see why. I get sick - a dark, sinking feeling taking over. This is so, so much worse than I realized.
"Emergents," one older full blood whispers, treating the word as if it's blasphemous, and I go pale under the dim glow of the one-light room.
Jase is beside me, along with Kellan in that instant. Kellan looks at me, worrying what is about to happen.
"What's an emergent?" another asks, breaking the spell of silence that has descended upon all of us who know the answer.
They'll kill them. They'll kill all of them.
Jase's hand returns to mine, lacing our fingers together. My headache disappears, but the sickness in my stomach strikes all the harder.
My fearful inner comment is ignored as Jase turns toward the men. "Anyone who doesn't have the rank of a captain or higher, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to step outside and join the ones guarding the entrance."
Please don't let them kill them.
He looks at me, pulling me a little closer to him as the others disperse.
"Go topside. I'll come find you when we're done."
I nod, feeling sick all the same, and then I see another set of children - another ten -on the far side of the cell, blocked off by the segregating bars. They too have a secret, one I've never seen for myself, but it carries the same death sentence.
Their eyes are mixed - one pale blue, one cosmic blue. This is so tragic.
Jase, they're half hybrid and half full blood. They'll kill them too. Please don't let them.
His face goes pale as he stares at the children hugging each other, terrified for their lives. He doesn't say anything, and warm hands rip me away as Kellan steers me toward the outside.
"We'll figure this out," he whispers, keeping his voice too low to be heard by anyone else.
Simone steps out of the shadows, halting the men I never saw drawing their guns, when she brings them to their knees. They cry tears of blood, agony in their voices as they beg for mercy.
Kellan pulls me to him when I try to rush in. They'll kill her for this. What is she doing?
"Under the Civil Law of the United, I have the right to subdue any man willing to kill a child of undetermined lineage without first calling a committee meeting for a vote. As the daughter of Clay Jude, I have the ability to kill every one of you if you so much as think about touching one of them."
"You bitch," one scoffs. "You have no right."
"She does," Jase says, coming back from whatever trance he was stuck in. "That's enough, Dr. Jude. I've got this."
She releases her hold on them. Her threat proves to be a bluff when her eyes roll back in her head and she passes out from the overexertion of her gift. Kellan catches her before she slaps the ground, and he cradles her in his arms.
We can't go now. I have to hear this. I have to know what's going to happen.
I lean back, finding a dark crevice to hide in as I listen for the voices around the corner. Kellan walks by, carrying Simone through the hallway, assuming I've already gone ahead.
"Simone Jude was out of line, Commander. You should-"
"Don't you dare tell me what I should do, General. You should remember who out ranks who here. Raise your gun at these children again, and you'll be serving lunch in the mess halls instead of leading brigades. As of right now, I'm calling these children recovered prisoners of war. Until the council meets, they are to be treated no differently.
"That's the law. Simone Jude is an officer of the United, and therefore she did what she had to in order to uphold the law. You men were not given the order to shoot, nor were you instructed to draw your weapons on a defenseless child. As a result, all of you who did so will be judged by the council as well.
"The children will come back with me. We'll take an RV, and we'll deal with this matter. The rest of you will stay here. Our original mission is being put on hold. You'll move the vehicles several miles away and camouflage them. Then you'll set up an ambush. It's very likely these men will return. I'm sick of them being ahead of us. It's our turn to get ahead.
"Those of you who didn't draw your weapon will run the show until I return. Once I've sorted out this situation, the council can deal with those of you who have disgraced the United with your callous actions here today."
With that, he's done, and I slink back farther in my crack. I listen to the shuffle of footsteps, and then I see the trembling, silent children holding back their whimpers as they pass in front of me.
My heart breaks, feeling the agony as though it's my own. The months and months of torture they've endured hits me as if I'm living it myself. I've always felt too empathetic, and right now it's painful. I usually can't cipher whose feelings I'm feeling, but this is obvious, and with so many of them sharing the same tormenting memories, I'm almost crying out from the pain running off them.
