I learned after many, many torture sessions.
Kieran grunts and then murmurs softly, “She’s in the cages with the other women. They haven’t sorted them or tested any of them yet. Davies has been too focused on having you back. He was positively gleeful about it.”
I nod and look around the tent again as though a key or weapon is going to jump out at me to get me the hell out of these frustrating restraints. The forks are both plastic, and the tech in the restraints would just melt them if we tried.
Maybe Sawyer would be useful to me right about now.
I try to ignore Kieran’s eyes on me, but they bore into my skin until finally he says, his voice low, “You’re too calm. If this is the place you were tortured as a kid, for two years, you should be more… worried. What’s your plan? Why are you so calm?”
I shove the last of my potatoes into my mouth so that I don’t have to answer him for a minute, chewing slowly. How do I answer him without giving away too much? Is there such a thing anymore?
There’s not really any secrets left… except one, and there’s no amount of torture that could pry that out of me.
“I’m not calm… I’m sure. There’s enough happening here that’s the same as last time, so I know how this is going to go. I know what has to happen to get us out. We just have to be patient and, probably, take a little pain. I’m sorry about that part, but there’s no avoiding it. Does your bond help out with that stuff? I’m not really sure how other people’s bonds work.”
He turns to keep his eyes trained on the opening of the tent like he’s keeping watch, but I know all too well that we’ll hear the woman coming. There’s no mistaking it.
“My bond doesn’t protect me like that. Mine is more… placid compared to yours. I’m the one in control, not it.”
I hand him my plate so that he can set it down, because my restraints won’t let me do it myself. “I’d love to think I’m in control, but I’m pretty sure my bond is just humoring me. I think it lets me run the show, but the second I’m in danger, it takes over. It’s handy until some little jealous bitch starts throwing perfume around.”
I shouldn’t bring it up, not here, but there aren’t enough details to tell the Resistance anything.
Obviously Gryphon didn’t give his second all of the details, but he knows enough to smirk at me and shrug. “Could be worse, Fallows. Could've been your arch-nemesis. Or his brother.”
I snort at him and mutter, “I’m not actually sure which one you’re referring to, but yeah, I guess you’re right. It could’ve been much worse.”
The smirk slowly melts from his mouth and he glances at the camera one last time before he turns his body into mine a little more, covering his mouth from sight as he murmurs, “You need to warn them… about who we saw here. You need to tell them sooner rather than later that there’s a potential sleeper cell.”
Atlas.
He’s talking about Atlas, because we’d seen his father here. The likeness between them both was striking, absolutely no doubt of their relation, but then Davies had turned to him and called him ‘Bassinger’ and sealed the freaking deal.
I still don’t know what to think of it.
I don’t know why I didn’t tell Gryphon while I was speaking to him.
I hope to God that I haven’t fucked up royally by not saying something, but I just… I couldn’t. I can’t believe that he’d betray me like that.
My spiraling thoughts are interrupted by the woman coming back to collect our plates. She grumbles under her breath about the waste of good resources on us sheep, and I roll my eyes at her. They’re all the same here. The more I can cultivate a spoiled brat persona with them, the more that they’ll underestimate me.
It’s how I got out last time.
I wait until her back is to us both, scraping off the plates into a scraps bin, before I cast out my gift to find Kyrie. I need to find my way over to her sooner rather than later, and when I find her in the showers tent, I try not to shiver in disgust.
It’s the worst place in the entire damned camp.
I pitch my tone to be whiny and demanding. “I need a shower.”
Kieran scowls and glances up at me, but the woman doesn’t react to him. I’m sure he just looks like an overprotective Bond, so it’s probably a good thing he’s acting up.
“The others are in there now, you’ll have to wait.”
My eyes shift to black and I watch the color drain from her face as I smirk at her, letting my bond take over to snark back at her, “I’m not going to wait.”