Page 64 of Freedom Fighters
She sat up. The chair where the guard had been sitting was empty. “The guard is outside?”
“Both of them. There are more coming, though.” Garrett caught her arm. “Whatever happens, promise me that if a break opens you’ll take it. No matter what.”
“Maybe,” she said, hedging. Nothing would enticeher to make a break if she couldn’t bring Garrett with her. “You should run if you get the chance, too.”
Garrett stared at her, his lips parting as if he was about to protest. Then he sighed. “Now I know why you won’t consider it. It’s inconceivable.” He gave her a grim smile. “So, both in or both out. No other way.”
“That sounds good to me.”
The door opened. Carmen leaned against Garrett,trying to look ill and pathetic, as five Insurrectos marched into the room. An officer followed them. He had white hair, although his face didn’t match the hair. His eyes were black and soulless. “Get them on their feet.” His voice was emotionless.
They were hauled to their feet. Garrett worked his stiff shoulder, wincing. Carmen cried out as a guard tried to yank her up by her injured arm.
The officer said, “Hurt her at your peril, gentlemen.”
The guard’s eyes got big. He licked his lips, nervous. He helped her up with the gentleness of a man with his first date.
Carmen reached out for Garrett and he helped her stand, his arm around her waist. It wasn’t difficult to look shaky, for her shoulder throbbed painfully and her head was light.
However, the longer she stood, the clearerher thoughts became.
They were marched down a corridor lined with normal-looking office doors, into an empty reception area. There was a desk in the corner for a receptionist. That told Carmen where they were—the Garrido silver mine onLas Piedras Grandes. They must have been brought here on the train they hadn’t been able to stop.
They were pushed through the front door into a still, muggynight. Floodlights bathed featureless dirt. They were pulled apart and told to stand.
A guard thrust a big piece of card stock into Carmen’s hands, as another did the same with Garrett. “Hold it up, against you,” the guard told her.
She looked down at the card. There were letters on it.
Before she could read it, he lifted the card and thrust it hard against her chest, making her wince. “Likethat,” he snapped. “Now hold it there, whore.”
They stood holding the cards for what felt like hours. They weren’t given an explanation. Carmen knew they were both being waved at the Loyalists. Was Nick out there somewhere, hidden but watching?
The idea gave her hope. She and Nick hadn’t always got along, yet his reputation asel leopardo rojowas deserved. He had resources and connections andthe will to match. If Nick was nearby, or any of his trusted Loyalists, then the break she and Garrett were looking for might come sooner than either of them expected.
Nothing happened, except the night grew warmer, not cooler. The air was thick and stifling. There was no hint of a breeze and the Big Rock was usually one of the windiest places in Vistaria.
After what Carmen thought around anhour had passed, they were led back inside. Carmen made a great show of stumbling and reeling, as if she was at the last of her strength. The officer the Insurrectos called Ibarra made his comment about having the medic check her once more, telling her the Insurrectos were buying her act.
They were pushed back into the storage room once more. Garrett wasn’t cuffed this time and the guard stayedoutside the door. Garrett moved around the room, looking in the cartons and prying up the lids on the metal boxes. Most of the metal boxes were locked and the cartons were full of paper records.
Carmen caught his arm as he moved closer to where she was sitting on the folding chair. “Garrett, I think a break is coming.” She spoke softly.
Garrett tilted his head to look at her. “You don’t havea crystal ball in that top. I’d have noticed.”
She tugged at his hand. “Hunker down. I don’t want to speak too loudly.”
He lowered himself down so he was looking her in the eye. Then she realized that he was studying her with professional disinterest. “I’m fine,” she said impatiently.
“You’re white. Is there much pain?”
“A little,” she lied. Her arm felt like a forty pound anvil. The bulletwound burned.
“I watched the medic,” Garrett said. “He did a good job, considering the circumstances. Infection is a real possibility, though.”
“I have killed anything that ever tried to infect me. I don’t get sick,” Carmen told him. “Listen, Garrett. I think a storm is coming.”
He blinked. “A storm.”
