The running is good—it soothes my panic, calming me down. Oxygen fills my lungs. Then, whipping around a corner, I hit a wall at full force.
It’s not a wall, though. A wall doesn’t reek of sweat and filth. A wall doesn’t hold on to your arms so you can’t escape.
And a wall doesn’t talk.
“I didn’t think I would see you again this soon, cupcake.”
Chapter Eight
Tank wraps me up like a straightjacket, his massive arms squeezing what little breath I have out of my already struggling lungs. Is this the end? Will he kill me right now, or after some other horror that I can’t even imagine?
Remember your training. I can almost hear Kay’s voice telling me what to do.
I go limp so Tank thinks I’ve given up. He loosens his grip just enough for me to turn slightly sideways, raise my leg, and stomp the top of his foot. He didn’t expect it and jerks back in shock, leaving my right arm free. I turn and thrust my hand upward, my palm connecting with his nose.
“Ahhh.” He lets out a wounded animal’s wail, clutches his face, and staggers back against the wall. “You little bitch!” Blood pours from his nose; the little that is visible of his face is contorted with pain and rage.
By the time he drops his hands to look for me, I have my gun out, trained on him. Earlier I was bluffing when I pulled my gun. But now my fear controls me, and I know that I can take his life, even if I don’t want to. In this moment my desire to live trumps all.
I feel a hand on my shoulder. I grab it and duck down and back, twisting it, slamming whoever it is against the wall and then snapping the gun back on Tank before he’s taken more than a step toward me.
“Back!” I scream.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” It’s Jacks, his voice muffled by the wall I have him pinned against.
Then I see Pete just down the corridor, mouth gaping, his shotgun aimed at me.
“Drop the gun!” I yell, my voice high-pitched and strained.
Tank moans and clutches his face again. “I think she broke my nose.”
Pete’s face shows his uncertainty. I can see he’s not used to making decisions.
I keep my voice low and even. “Shoot me, and my gun will go off and kill Tank. Plus, that’s a shotgun you’re holding. From there, the pattern will take out both me and this guy.” I pop my shoulder into Jacks’s back. I can’t see his face, but I can hear his jagged breathing.
“You’d end up alone in here with three bodies. Unless you miss, and I kill you.”
“Pete,” Jacks says, “put down the gun and get Tank out of here. Then go back to your post.” Pete hesitates, and looks from him to Tank. “Now.”
Pete sets the shotgun at his feet and grabs a fistful of Tank’s sleeve. The two of them shuffle into the darkness, Tank glaring back at me over his shoulder.
“Okay,” Jacks says calmly once they’re gone. “Now can you let me go?”
“No.”
“Look, it’s just you and me here. I understand you’re scared. Someone must have really screwed you over. . . .” I stare at the back of his head and wonder why he doesn’t struggle. He’s strong, but he doesn’t even try to break my hold.
“I’m not scared.” My shaking voice betrays my lie. “I just don’t know if I should trust anyone, really . . . especially not doctors.”
“All right. I get it. Doctors can be dicks. Believe me, I know.” He tries to adjust his position, but I tighten my grip on his arm. “Okay, okay. Listen, I’m not a doctor, I’m a tattoo artist. I just help Doc out.”
“I don’t understand what a doctor would want with a tattoo artist. That doesn’t really make sense.”
“Hey, I’m in a lot of pain here. Kind of hard to make my case . . .”
I keep his arm pinned. “I’m looking for someone,” I say. “It’s important. If I get in, will you help me find him?”
“Release the death grip and I’ll think about it.”
I can’t hold him forever. “Fine.” I let him go, stepping back out of his reach in case he lunges at me. I holster my gun, glad to be done with it. If Jacks plans to fight me, I can use my Guardian training to take him. I’m grateful when he doesn’t move toward me at all. Instead he turns slowly to face me, then backs up against the wall, rubbing his shoulder. It takes him a moment to regain his composure.
“What now?” I ask.
“That’s up to you,” he says. “Look. I’m not going to tell you that Fort Black is one-hundred-percent safe and you never have to worry again.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“But,” he continues, “I guarantee that you can keep your weapons. Clearly, you can take care of yourself. These walls will keep the Floraes out. For most people that’s enough. I can see you’re not most people, though. Just remember, if you don’t want to be here, you don’t have to be here. You can leave. No one will force you to stay.”
“And Tank?”
He allows a small smile. “I think you’ve just proven he can’t stop you.”
I exhale slowly. “So what do I have to do, exactly, to get into Fort Black?”
“Doc just has to examine you.”