"What is it?" Jasmine asked.
"Twelve," Kyra murmured, and then, with a surprising surge of strength, she twisted in Ell-rom's arms, and her eyes focused on Max. "Twelve—get the woman in cell twelve." The words tore out of her in a desperate rasp but in perfect, nearly accent-free English. "Take her."
"I will," Max promised.
Now that he knew there was another female prisoner, there was no way he was leaving her in this place, especially if she was in the same state as Kyra.
It complicated things, but his conscience wouldn't let him leave a woman behind.
Kyra's mouth opened again, but no sound emerged, and her eyes rolled, consciousness flickering out like a candle. She slumped, limp again in Ell-rom's arms.
"You will have to carry her to the helicopter," Max told Ell-rom.
"I'm well aware of that. She weighs very little."
Max wondered if she'd lost weight in captivity, and his anger rose at the way she'd been treated by the so-called doctor. He was looking forward to interrogating the bastard where he could return the favor a thousand times over.
The satisfying music of doors being swung open continued, and when Max turned to look at the next prisoner liberated, he was surprised when, a moment later, one of the Kra-ell who was helping them to expedite the process emerged with a half-conscious young woman in his arms. The captive sagged against Anton's hold.
Just like Kyra, the woman was wearing a thin shift that used to be white but had turned a dingy gray from overuse. She was pale,her skin covered in goosebumps from the cold, but he'd already given his sweater to Kyra, and he had nothing else he could offer the woman.
"Why is she so heavily drugged?" he asked no one in particular, but the Kra-ell must have thought that he was asking him and shrugged.
"How should I know?" Anton said. "What do you want me to do with her?"
Was this the woman in cell twelve that Kyra had asked him to take?
Max released a resigned breath. "We're taking her with us. Which cell number did you free this one from?" he asked, just to be sure.
"Six," Anton said.
Damn. So now they were taking three females with them. Kyra was coming back with them to the village or the keep, but they had no reason to take the other females all the way to California.
"You will have to carry her to the helicopter. We'll figure out the rest once we're airborne."
Anton's brows rose, but before he could answer, Yamanu emerged with another limp young woman in his arms.
Max sighed. "Please tell me that you got her from cell number twelve."
Yamanu frowned, looked back the way he came from, and then shook his head. "All the cells in that part of the corridor are single numbers."
Damn.
What had they been doing in this place? Trafficking?
That actually made perfect sense. It explained why the Doomers had bothered with this outpost in the middle of nowhere.
But why here?
"I think we should heed Jasmine's request. Kyra gained consciousness momentarily and emphatically had me promise that we would liberate the woman in cell number twelve as well, and I promised her I would. I think we should take all the females we find in these cells with us."
Yamanu nodded. "Of course. We can't leave them to fend for themselves." He looked down at the young woman in his arms. "They are so severely drugged that they are barely conscious. I've already told the pilots to be ready to pick us up from the courtyard."
Anton looked at the girl and shook his head. "What if we run out of space in the helicopters?"
Max wasn't going to leave any women behind. "We have enough room. These girls don't weigh much. In the meantime, put her down next to the wall." He turned to Yamanu. "We should also alert the pilots for the extra cargo."
Yamanu set the girl down next to the others and moved aside to contact the pilots.