Our group got up quietly from the table, walking to the stairs to the level leading to the factory. Tracker got lost in the crowd, and I lost my chance to tell him I could never bring Ava back. The nectar didn’t bring people back from the dead. It was only in the first moments of death, when life still clung to the body.
I searched for him by Lukas when we got up to the factory, but he wasn’t there, and with the growing numbers of inmates coming in daily, he was lost in the throng, men outnumbering the women prisoners by more than double.
Most of the day had gone by when I suddenly found him next to Lukas, his shirt not yet sticking to his body, as if he decided to finally come to work, though I knew that couldn’t be the case. Every single inmate worked, no matter age, sickness, or capability. If you collapsed or died, they would drag you off as though you were rubbish.
Joska and Kristof were in rare form, strutting around the women, poking at Rosie and me the most. I tried not to react, but their aggression increased instead of diminishing at our lack of response.
“You think I can’t kill you right here?” Kristof rammed his baton into my back, slamming me against the sewing machine. His fingers wrapped in my hair, ripping out strands as he yanked it back. His fragile male human ego was bruised because I took him and all his buddies out in the shower room by myself. “What you did? I’m gonna fucking slice you into pieces slowly and fuck your corpse. You will pay, bitch.”
“Kristof,” Boyd warned from across the room. “Leave that one for now.”
Kristof snarled in my ear. “The moment he’s not looking, I’m gonna fuck you up so bad. Find a place to put this.” He tapped the spiked club on the table next to me, the threat very clear.
“Yeah, this whore needs to pay.” Joska twitched and paced behind us, feeding off Kristof’s energy as though he could no longer control his actions.
“Oh, what’s wrong, Kurva?” Kristof sneered at Rosie across the table. “You getting jealous? Don’t worry, I know how much you love to choke on my dick. I’ll be fucking you after her.” His nails dug so deep into my scalp; I could feel blood leaking down the back of my head. Pain filled my eyes, and I bit on my lip, trying to keep my cries from escaping. His baton whacked me again across the back.
“Stop!” Rosie choked out. “Please!”
Kristof went deadly still.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“What did you say?” He let go of me, standing fully upright. Tension slathered every inch of the air, a bomb ticking under my feet, and I had no real way of defusing the situation. “You telling me what to do, you fucking picsa?” Cunt. “You think you have a right to even speak?” Fury lashed out from him, his body moving with a speed no human should possess. He fisted her head, yanking her so violently to the floor Rosie’s skull cracked on the surface, a scream gurgling in her throat as he dragged her over the rough floor.
“No!” I tried to yell out before Joska’s hand grabbed me by the throat. Sounds I never heard a human make came from him, like hooting noises of an angry gorilla.
Gods, what if they took on the qualities of the fae essence? If his pills were from a gorilla shifter, would they give him the same primal qualities?
My gaze darted around the room, suddenly noticing the characteristics of wild animals instead of soldiers. A mass of them acting similar to hyenas or chimpanzees were riled up and squawking at the prospect of blood and death. Some others prowled similar to lions, ready to jump in and tear into flesh.
What if these pills made them the worst of man and shifter combined?
“Markos said not to kill Kovacs yet,” I heard a fae guard yell, but neither Kristof nor any HDF men listened, their cries for blood snarling louder.
Kristof slammed Rosie’s head onto the ground again, her body going limp. He tore at her clothes, causing all the artificial fae to go berserk.
Feral.
“No!” I screamed, feeling energy bubbling up inside me, sparking within my body. When Joska’s boot kicked me hard, I heard my ribs crack, freezing my muscles in place.
A bellow roared in my ears, a form cutting through the savage guards, capturing my attention. Killian stood there; his expression cold. Furious. Even with his collar, I could feel his rage, his magic trying to break through. He swiped a baton off a guard and darted to us, cracking it across Kristof’s temple with a wet thwack.
Blood, brains, and matter sprayed over the floor and across my face.
Killian moved and spun like a samurai, a brutal and beautiful dance, making me see another man under the noble title. One who was trained to kill and fought with skill, which came from a past not of aristocratic blood.
Killian struck Kristof again on the other side of his head with a force that reverberated against my skin. Like a falling watermelon, Kristof’s head burst into bits and chunks, drenched with red juices, meat, and black seeds of his brain.
His body dropped.
Killian heaved with fury, standing over Rosie, covered in Kristof’s blood. He didn’t look like a nobleman. He looked like a warrior. Fierce and deadly.
A king.
There was a hush of disbelief, of awe, all eyes on him as if he were a god.
Then the truth sunk in. A prisoner had just killed a guard. HDF considered that a declaration of war, but before they could react, a man in yellow screamed, pointing at HDF. “Revolt! Kill them!”
Commotion and chaos imploded in the room.
Gunfire, yells, and moving bodies streamed through, instantly absorbing Killian and Rosie from my view.
I struggled to get up, feet stomping on me as hundreds of people darted away and toward the chaos.
“Brexley!” Scorpion’s voice cut through the throng, scrambling over to me. “Come on!” He yanked me to my feet out of the way of the horde, his eyes meeting mine as we saw the entire room clash together.
The revolt had started. Killian sparked the flame into a full fire.
“We have to do this now,” Scorpion yelled.
“But…” I gaped, peering around.
“No buts! We have to try now!” His shade barked into my ear, shoving me for the gate as he whirled on a guard, engaging in a fight. “Go!”
“I can’t leave Warwick,” I screamed, trying to turn back toward the prison. I wasn’t ready. I was sure they’d bring Warwick up for the Games.
“Brexley!” Ash came from the mass of people, grabbing me, ending my connection with Scorpion. “We have to try to escape.” Lukas, Maddox, and Wesley were with him, holding shovels and tools they worked with as weapons, ready to defend. The room drummed with bangs and loud noises, people already running for the gate, their bodies getting electrocuted when they touched them, falling lifeless to the ground.
“I won’t leave Warwick.”
“We can’t wait,” Maddox bellowed. “It’s now or we die.”
This wasn’t supposed to happen now. But that’s not how life worked. You took the opportunities you could. We had no do-over or practice runs. Our escape had to be now.
Locking down my jaw, I turned back to the gate, seeing prisoners already trying to get through it in panic. The gate was electrified and killed each one who tried, but it didn’t seem to stop the next one from trying as well.
“While I try to bring it down, get them fighting and defending, not throwing themselves at it.” I ordered the boys as another person flung themselves at our only exit with irrational desperation. They were so scared to die here, but might end up killing themselves in their own terror.