Page 34 of A Light in the Darkness
“Go!” He tells us.
We don’t have to be told twice.
I seize Kaia by the wrist and pull her with me, through the door that automatically opened when Kent did the override, and toward the staircase. She doesn’t try to pull out of my grip or slow down, running with me, our footfalls in step as we thunder down the stairs into the empty foyer. I see the knife in her free hand, and idly think about how dangerous it is to run down steps with such a jagged knife in her hand. It’s a stupid thought, a random moment of clarity in the chaos of my heart pounding, sweat rolling down my back, and my chest feeling like it may implode.
The grates on either side of the foyer have been opened, and I can hear a tangle of noise coming from both sides. It encompasses us as we run straight into it, a thousand different sounds of confusion and excitement and cries so plentiful that they converge into one thing so loud it makes my ears ring.
And then, as they run at us, the high-pitched whine gets so loud it bursts into silence. It’s like when you watch a bomb explode in a movie, and then an unsettling quiet sweeps in. But I can’t be bothered to think about how unnerving it is, because I’m not feeling much of anything as we watch the scene unfold, running against the traffic.
The first few women don’t even spare us a glance, sprinting straight for the front door that has been left wide open, letting the low afternoon sun filter into the center of the room to illuminate the dust motes drifting through the air.
Just like my ears couldn’t distinguish their noises, my eyes can’t pick any identifying features about them. I just know that there are a few of them, and they run out without hesitation, not bothering to glance at Kaia or me.
One woman turns to look behind her as she runs, and with my eyes focused on the dozens of heads behind her, I don’t see her until she rams square into my chest. The force knocks her backwards, and her eyes round with shock, but she moves quickly around me, and I obviously don’t stop her.
It’s Kaia who brings me back to myself, wrenching her hand free of mine. Some doors stand completely open, and others sit just a little ajar, the locks clearly disengaged, but the inhabitants less trusting of the circumstances. I don’t hear what Kaia says—I still feel like a bomb exploded at my feet—but I see her point at me, and I meet the eyes of the woman in the cell. They’re electric blue, brilliant and wild against her dark skin, and just like that, she shocks me into action.
“Everyone out!” I say quickly, using my arm to motion toward the door. There’s a sudden scurry as people hurry to comply with my demand, the guard’s uniform making them believe it would be wise to follow my orders.
More doors open, and women stream out of them, some without sparing me a glance and others without ever taking their eyes off me, like I may attack once their backs are to me. I don’t spare them any further attention, moving to the back of the hall, ushering more people out of cells, calmly and firmly telling everyone to get out.
When I reach the end of the hall and turn back, it seems like I’ve walked a mile. The air feels thick and the light from the other side seems so far. I can’t see Kaia anymore between the sea of bodies frantically moving, running into one another, some embracing, others pushing their way to the front.
I feel faint, remembering my first time visiting cells like these. There are so many more here than there ever were back then, but the setup is similar, the disdain is identical. Bare cells with dirty mattresses haunt me, reminding me of the feel of being slumped on one of them, feeling her move up and down on me, leaving my cock covered in her blood and my cum.
I try to move back to the exit, but my feet feel as heavy as the air, and I stumble. At the last minute, I grab hold of the bars of a cell, keeping me from going down, and stare at the ground, trying to breathe. It isn’t the memory itself that hurts. I was drugged, and even though I hadn’t wanted Genevieve, I’d thought in the moment that I was with the woman I loved. But everything that comes after that?
That fucking hurts.
Davos telling me my father had raped her before she did the same to me, telling me that we breed our soldiers, Genevieve showing up at my doorstep, her telling me she was pregnant, and then telling me…
I struggle to breathe through my lungs that feel like they’ve been crushed into powder dust, and glance up to see movement in the cell opposite me. It’s a flash of silver hair as the occupant tries to hide, tucking it into her knees and letting it curtain over her face.
Having someone else to focus on dulls the pain the way it always does, and I drag myself up, pulling fresh air into my lungs. “You have to leave.” I say, rapping my knuckles on the bars to try and grab the girl’s attention. She doesn’t move so much as an inch—she’s gone on the defensive like a turtle that crawled inside its shell.
Except, she’s still vulnerable.
“I won’t hurt you.” I say, speaking louder. “But you have to get out. Now!”
She still doesn’t react, and the hall is clearing out before us, the sound receding with the tide of bodies. We’re running out of time until we get discovered, and I can’t have a plane full of escapees and my crew waiting for me to convince this girl to come. I know better than to use force, but I have to at least get closer to her so that she has no choice but to listen to me.
I enter the cell slowly, cautiously, with my hands raised to show her I haven’t come to harm her. But even when I step right in front of her, she doesn’t look up to see me, and she gives no indicationthat she knows I’m here, so I drop down to her height and reach an arm out, placing a gentle hand on hers. Unsurprisingly, she stiffens.
“We have to go!” I tell her, my voice losing any bit of the calm façade I may have had before. Or rather, my detachment is starting to wane as the urgency of the situation increases.
We’re definitely blowing past our timeline here. It feels as though I’ve been in this building for ages. I wonder if time works differently here for everyone. If I feel like the last hour has been a week, how must these prisoners feel?
When I’m only ignored again, I sweep the hair out of her face, trying to find the woman’s eyes so that I can appeal to her. Except, when I find them, I realize she’s not a woman.
Her round face is thin from lack of care rather than growing out of her youth, and her wide eyes are full of tears and terror, both of which brim over, leaving paths on her dirty cheeks.
She’s a girl, far too young to be in a place like this. Not that anyone should be in a place like this, the least of which is a damn child. Nausea curls in my stomach and anger lights in my veins, but my mouth twitches into something like a smile. “It’s okay,” I tell her softly, her fear quelling my panic. “But we have to go.”
She only stares at me as she silently cries, her silver hair sticking to her pale face. I glance up, looking for any sign of Kaia, but when I don’t find her, I decide I’m going to have to go off the script here. “It’s okay,” I say again, moving to grab her around the waist.
Her bones are frail and sharp under her skin—I feel every inch of them as I pull her into me. She doesn’t fight against me, for all of her fear, refusing to uncoil even as I lift her into my arms and tuck her against my chest. Her whole body trembles against me, her sharp shins biting into my arm as I wrap one around her and use the other to support her back. She’s lighter than any human should be, I think, but my grip on her is awkward… even more so when I begin to run, tucking her tighter against me.
I don’t slow down to take in any of what is unfolding around me. I don’t look for the faces I recognize, don’t bother trying todistinguish friend from foe. My entire focus is on the girl in my arms and getting her to safety.
