Page 45 of Captured Immune

As I follow Katie, I count how many agents we pass. Twelve. Some in the fitness center. Some heading into the pool room. One janitor mopping the floors. One security guard patrolling.

I can’t see an exit route from here. Especially not when we’re on the first floor, and the only exit to the surface is on floor six. At least, that’s the only exit I know of. As a kid, I heard rumors of secret passageways in and out of Shadow Ridge, but I never found them. I’m sure Victor knows them all, but I doubt he’ll share that precious information with me.

Katie leads us through a set of double doors and into an auditorium. In the battle box is Victor with two young women. One has long red curls and is wearing black leather pants. The other has short blueish-black hair and is chewing on some gum. Both women have eager energy shooting at me.What the hell are they so eager about?

“Look at that!” Victor says. “He’s here already. I guess we can go straight into the second part of tonight’s plan. Join us in the box, kid.”

Something tells me I don’t want to. Something also tells me I don’t have a choice.

“Ordinary, are you gonna come up willingly this time, or will I have to ask Craig to assist again?”

Craig must be the name of Victor’s security guard, because he’s about to lift Arella when she throws a hand up.

“Don’t touch me. I’ll do it myself.”

I trail her up the stairs and through the ropes, resisting the urge to ask if she’s okay. Meanwhile, Katie and Craig take seats on the sidelines.

“What’s going on?” Sparks flicker between my fingertips—a reflex I’ve developed from being in the battle box so often before. Also, I’m not liking the smug way those two women are looking at me.

Victor ignores my question as he nods at the Asian woman. “Go ahead, Pixie.”

The woman puckers her lips. Before I can produce a single flame, an agonizing high-pitched sound shoots into my ears. I slam my palms against the sides of my head. It does nothing to block the pain. It hurts like hell. There are no other words to describe it. Just hell.

I drop to my knees. “Stop! Stop!”

It doesn’t stop. If anything, it gets louder and stings more. In the corner of my eye, I see Pixie glance at Victor. He nods, then she stops blowing. The pain subsides, leaving a ringing in my ears.

“Goddammit!” I shout. At least, IthinkI shouted. I can barely hear myself. “What the fuck was that?”

Victor acts like he didn’t hear me. He turns to Arella. “Use your immunity to shield him from Pixie’s gift.”

Arella draws her eyebrows together. “I... I don’t know how to do that.”

“Try.”

Out of nowhere, tiny invisible pitchforks attack my ears again. This time, it’s louder and more excruciating. I wouldn’t be surprised if my eardrums were bleeding. No matter how hard I press my palms to my ears, the agony stays the same.

Arella yells something. I can’t hear what though. Her mouth looks like she’s screaming “Stop! Stop!” The terrorized expression on her face makes me want to hold her and tell her I’ll protect her, but I can’t get off my knees long enough to get to her.

When Pixie closes her mouth, the sound stops. More importantly, so does the piercing pain. I fall onto my hands, gasping for air as the ringing returns.

“Fuckin’ warn a guy!” My shouting sounds muffled.

Arella rushes to my side, dropping to her knees, with her hands cupping my face. Her touch feels like drinking an ice-cold bottle of Healing Water—therapeutic and refreshing.

Her lips move, but I can’t make out the words.Is she asking me something?She yells at Victor, but I can’t hear that either. They shout at each other for a moment before the ringing fades and my hearing slowly returns.

“We’ll stop once you do what you’re told,” Victor says.

“I told you already! I don’t know how!” Arella turns back to me with tears pooling in her eyes. “Trey, please tell me you’re okay.”

I offer her a weak grunt as I get to my feet. Arella holds me steady as I use her shoulder to keep me upright.

I scowl at the pathetic excuse for the only relative I have left. “Whatever you’re trying to get her to do, it won’t work.”

“It will,” Victor says. “She just needs the right motivation.”

“No!” I slash my hand through the air. “You’re treating her immunity as if it’s a gift like ours. Like it’s something she can use and control. For all we know, it’s not possible for her to control it at all, let alone project it.”

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