Baker continues to be a constant whirlwind, so I take the brief opportunity to step away and head to the prison to check on our new guests. Slipping the heavy door open, the overwhelming smell of piss and blood immediately fills my nose, and I resist the strong urge to gag. I stride quickly past several occupied cells to reach the far end where they're being held. The group is split into two cells, huddled together in the dark and whispering quietly amongst themselves. They fall silent the moment I stop in front of the cell containing the man I captured. He steps into the dim light of the lone, flickering bulb in the hallway. He appears young, with shaggy black hair and piercing bright green eyes.
He studies me for a long, scrutinizing moment before crossing his arms defensively. "What do you want?" he asks, his voice rough.
I say nothing, instead turning my attention to the other man behind him. He's slightly older, more tanned, but with a similar appearance. Brothers. I slide my gaze back to the first man, who is still studying me intently. When he says nothing further, I remove my helmet and smirk at him. His frown deepens, his posture tensing. If we're leaving tonight, I can do one thing here without as much regret. Reaching into my pocket, I produce a small, delicate silver key and hold it out to him. He hesitates for a brief moment before gently taking it from my palm. I lift my finger to my lips, point to the ceiling, and then trail my finger down, hoping he picks up on the hint. I slip my helmet back on and turn to exit out the rear door as the front doors open, signaling the shift change before dinner.
A loud bell rings out as the door clicks shut. Soldiers begin flowing out of the buildings, making their way wordlessly toward the long building in the middle of the base for dinner. I follow suit, slipping between gaps of men as I make my way to our usual table in the corner of the room. Richards is among our group, whispering with the others. He wears a deep frown, while Baker continues to look disappointed. They argue like an old married couple. Though they've been working together for twenty years, it might as well be true, especially since there are only a handful of women on the base. The rest reside on the farm outside the walls, with their own separate quarters. I take my seat, leaning against the cold stone wall as they continue to argue heatedly about something being a bad idea. In less than an hour, they will be on the road, leaving Rein and me to figure out an exit strategy in case things go sideways. Dinner continues without interruption, and I groan quietly as the bell chimes again, dismissing dinner, and the soldiers silently shuffle out.
Rein squeezes my shoulder briefly as I make my way to Charlie's quarters for my nightly post. A real dick move, considering we haven't slept in two days. My deep hatred for him runs far deeper than just the inconvenience of his decisions. It's rooted in the fact that he stole me away as a child to train in his militia after watching his men butcher my parents and burn our village to the ground. Part of it, at least. Rein came from the same village, but he was older when they took him. He learned faster and adapted quicker. We are the only two children who survived Charlie's brutal training. Lives are just tools in his arsenal—not important and easily replaced. Taking a deep breath, I enter the quarters to find them empty. At least I'll have some brief peace before he arrives. I stand beside the door, staring at the stack of books in the far corner, reading their titles and wishing I could read them. Reading isn't allowed. The only reason I know how to read is because Baker made it part of our training once we graduated. Even then, it was done in secrecy.
The door creaks open, and Charlie flurries in, rambling to himself under his breath. He ignores my presence completely, going straight for the liquor stashed behind his desk. Unbuttoning the top of his shirt, he downs the first glass, only to immediately pour another. So, it'll be one of those nights. He flicks his eyes up to where I stand, and my skin crawls. He plucks another glass from the shelf, pours it, and motions for me to sit. My legs are stiff as I cross the space and sit in the chair. I don't remove my helmet or touch the glass. Charlie finishes his second glass, pouring another as he stands and moves around the desk to stop beside me. My back goes rigid as he removes my helmet and sets it on the desk. I resist the overwhelming urge to gag as he touches the braid holding my hair up, removing one of the pins and letting a strand tumble down my back. He removes the rest of the pins until all my hair is free. He brushes his fingers lightly over my cheek before suddenly gripping my chin and yanking my face toward his.
"Drink."
Rage bubbles up as I free a dagger and bury it into the desk an inch from the hand he's leaning on. His eyes flare with fury as he releases my face and grabs a handful of my hair to yank my head back further.
"Do as I command."
Growling, I grab the glass and down it in one gulp. Satisfied, he releases my hair and steps back around the desk. He twirls his drink. "A rabid thing, you are, Pierce."
I blink at him in annoyance. I would scream at him if the silver band around my neck didn't prevent me from making a single sound. A collar he gave me when I turned twelve, after I called him a cunt and tried to gut him. This, and a brutal whipping. He only tolerates me because I proved my value to him; otherwise, I'd be a pile of bones in the fire pit with the other bodies he deemed worthless. He studies my body with a calculating look, and I know exactly what's coming next. Usually, he's far drunker, and I'm able to knock him out without remembering a thing.
Charlie opens his mouth, and I leap over the desk, blade in hand. He moves faster than before, grabbing my wrist and slamming me against the bookshelf behind his stupid chair. He growls as I climb to my feet, his drink spilled all over the front of his shirt. I spin the blade in my hand and pounce again, slashing his arm as he takes the brunt of my weight, bending backward over the desk. He throws me back, and I suppress a wince as he raises his hand. I roll away, and he stumbles forward, crashing into the wall. He crumples to the floor, unconscious. I frown. He must have had more to drink than I thought. Sighing, I retrieve my blade and stow it away as the door creaks open. I step into the entrance of Charlie's bedroom, directly across from his office. With his body behind the desk, the room appears empty. The person slowly creeps forward, taking their time to check the bathroom near the main door before continuing. The stranger approaches the desk, and I see who it is. It's our male prisoner I slipped the key to. He has a small knife in his hand as he circles the desk toward Charlie's unconscious body. I step forward, and he whirls around. I glare at him. He glances between me and the body.
"Are you going to finish him off, or shall I?" he asks with a cocky smirk. I shake my head at him, pointing toward the door for him to leave.
He scoffs and turns back to Charlie. I lunge, catching his arm and yanking him back. He whirls, swinging the blade at me. I duck under his swing. He hesitates as I straighten, keeping my grip on his other arm. For a moment, we simply stare at each other—he, wanting to kill Charlie, and I, urging him to leave.
A bell rings rapidly outside, followed by yelling. The prison—they know he's gone. This is the next place they'll check. I tow the prisoner toward the rear door and throw it open, pulling us into the cool night just as the front door flies open. The stranger doesn't resist as I tow him along the wall behind the building to where Rein will be waiting. With the alarms going off, he'll know something is up, that I, in fact, did not listen and did something incredibly stupid.
As we approach the fallen section of the wall, Rein steps out with two heavy packs in hand. He looks at the man, unsurprised, as I release him and take the pack from Rein. Behind him are the other three prisoners. Rein glances at them. "Found them hiding near the vehicles," he says, raising a brow. "They said you let them out."
I shrug, stepping through the hole in the wall into the dark forest. The others follow wordlessly. We'll have to move quickly, or we'll be caught.