“I don’t…I don’t understand.”
Dr. Cylon motioned for someone, and they immediately brought a chair and placed it next to mine. She lowered herself into it gracefully. “Have you ever heard the story of the goddess Sekhmet, Miss Valentine?”
I shook my head slowly. “I don’t think so.”
“I am not surprised. I know that they tend to focus on the Greek mythologies in most American schools. The goddess Sekhmet is an Egyptian goddess, protector and warrior for the pharaohs. She was also a goddess of healing, very powerful. In fact, her name is derived, often times, as meaning ‘one with power.’ She was fierce, often depicted as a lioness. She’s a good likeness for the cause, wouldn’t you say?”
I was even more confused than I had been before her explanation, though it did explain the weird half-cat/half-woman that was all over the room. “I don’t understand,” I repeated. “What cause?”
She stood up abruptly. “I’ll show you.” She leaned over me and pressed her fingertips to the cool strips of metal that were encasing my wrists. She paused before unlocking them. “I must warn you, Miss Valentine, that if you try anything, there are several people in this room alone that would be on you in an instant. I would not bother to try.”
I nodded quickly. I hadn’t even thought of fighting. Was there a reason to fight? I couldn’t even think straight. There was a pounding in my head, and I still felt like I was stuffed with cotton. And I was thirsty, incredibly thirsty. I was unstrapped in an instant, and I sat up, rubbing my fingers over the sore spots of my wrists. I had no idea where I was. I had no idea what Sekhmet Facilities were or what their cause was. I had no idea…
“Ash!” I blurted out abruptly. “Where’s Ash?”
“Your companion is perfectly safe. He is in another wing of the facility,” Dr. Cylon answered vaguely, leading me through the room and out the door. We walked down a long, blinding white hallway, and I shivered. It was freezing. I realized that I was no longer wearing my own clothes. I was instead in an outfit not too different from those that nurses wore in hospitals, in plain shades of gray and brown. I had a bulky gray tunic that fit snug across my chest, and baggy brown pants. They were thin but comfortable, and yet I still felt slightly like a prison inmate.
“I want to see him,” I demanded, though my voice sounded weak even to my own ears.
“All in good time, Miss Valentine.”
I pressed my palms tight against my eyes. “Stop calling me that. My name is Zoey.”
“If that’s what you prefer,” Dr. Cylon said agreeably. We had reached a door, at the end of the hallway. She pressed her fingertip to the pad, and it blinked green. She reached for the doorknob and ushered me inside.
Just inside the door was a pair of Awakened.
I rushed backward and my back smacked into the door. My hand reached for the handle, and I turned, but it wouldn’t budge. It was locked, and I had no way of getting out. I reached for my gun, but of course, I didn’t have it. It was probably still in the Jeep, lost in the middle of Colorado.
“Relax; they cannot harm you,” Dr. Cylon said, standing very close to them. She pointed to the ground, and I noticed what I had missed before. The two Awakened were chained, their ankles attached to a chain that was hooked to the ground. They had no more than a foot or two of room to move.
“Why…why are they here?” I asked, shaking. I didn’t move from the door. The two Awakened were staring at me intently, salivating over the sight of me. I waited for them to say something, anything, but they didn’t. All I could hear was the harshness of their breathing.
“You wanted to see the cause, did you not?” the doctor asked, one perfect eyebrow raised in confusion.
“I…well, yes, but…” I sputtered. I turned away from the Awakened and met her eyes. They were a deep, dark brown, nearly black, and framed by the thickest eyelashes I had ever seen.
She gestured toward the Awakened. “This is the cause. This is my cause.”
I BLINKED A FEW TIMES at her, looking between her and the docile Awakened. I kept waiting for them to speak or attack. They were so calm; I had never seen them so calm. “I don’t know what you mean. The Awakened are your cause.”
An amused smile crossed her lips. “Ah, yes, the Awakened. That is what the civilians have taken to calling my creations. I admit it is better than calling them by their proper name: SK-521. Much more of a mouthful, I suppose.”
“Your creations?” I asked horrified. “You created them?”
“Well, of course I did,” she said, looking over at the creatures adoringly. “They have been a central part of the plan, of my cause.”