Defect (4 page)

Just as I’m finishing, the door pushes open
, and a guy I’ve never seen before comes in. “Ready?” He directs his question to Dr. Nolan.

Dr. Nolan is reading a print out from the data terminal tests I took. He looks up from the paper, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You can take her. We’re done for the day.”

The guy comes toward me. He’s dressed like Will – camouflage cargo pants tucked into heavy work boots and a black T-shirt strained across his muscled chest bearing the silver insignia of government, a crest with sharp edges protruding from the center of the circle in a sun burst pattern – so I assume he’s another guard.

“What happened to Will?”

He laughs, but there’s no joy in his face. “They all want Will.” He closes the distance between us with two more steps and grabs my arm. His eyes narrow and he brings his face directly in front of mine, looking at me with a cruel, mocking expression.  His eyes are nearly black, and I find myself stumbling back from him, but his grip on my arm holds me in place.

“Will’s busy with the other recruits. I’m in charge of you now.” My arm turns red under his thick fingers. He hauls me after him
, and I have no choice but to follow. He pushes me ahead of him down the hall, and I walk blindly ahead, unsure where we’re going, but knowing I don’t want to spend any more time with him than I have to.

“You didn’t say what your name was,” I say to the empty space in front of me.

“Who said you could speak?” His fingers prod my back, and I walk faster to stay out of his reach. “I’m Kane,” he says after a minute. “In here,” he says when we reach a heavy, metal door. He presses his fingertip to the sensor, and the door clicks open. Inside is a big gymnasium with ropes hanging from the ceiling, various weights, benches and barbells. And through the doors on the far end that connect to another room – I smell a pool – though I can’t see it yet. 

“Over there.” He shoves me toward the weights.

I would gladly walk; I don’t know why he doesn’t just ask – probably an excuse to show off his control over me. I don’t like the thought of being alone with him.

He selects two twenty-pound dumbbells and sets them at my feet. “Start with curls – do as many as you can.”

I pick up the weights, which feel much heavier than twenty pounds. I was never strong to begin with, but the lack of food and proper rest certainly isn’t helping. I hold them at my sides and curl them up once, twice and by the third time, my arms are shaking. But Kane is waiting for me to fail, to give up, and I refuse to give him the satisfaction. I begin lifting one at a time, my entire body struggling with the effort. I make it to ten, and my arms are quivering. A drop of perspiration rolls down the back of my neck, and I set the weights calmly at my feet.

“This is boring – come with me.”

He stops in front of a rope suspended from the ceiling and motions for me to step forward. “Climb to the top.”

It’s at least thirty feet up. I grip the
rope; it’s so thick my fingers can barely make it all the way around. I pull myself up and bring my feet up. I begin shimmying my way up the rope. Miraculously I’m doing it. My hands ache from my grip on the rope, and my muscles are tense, but slowly, slowly, I’m making my way up toward the ceiling. I can tell it’s not what he expected, and that pushes me forward.

When I reach the top, just to spite him, I stretch out and skim my fingers across the ceiling, then begin to slide down slowly so that I don’t get rope burn. Then I’m standing in front of him, out of breath, but proud of myself for the first time since I got here.

“Since you’re so good with ropes, let’s try something else.”

And suddenly I regret showing off, for climbing so high, for touching the ceiling. I follow him to the far corner of the room. He picks up a length of rope from a container in the corner. It’s about four feet long. He turns me around and takes my arms behind my back and begins tying the rope tightly around my wrists. Once he’s knotted the rope and tugged on it a few times to be sure it’s secure, he sets the timer on his watch. “Okay, get yourself free.”

I struggle with the ropes, thrashing my arms around, trying to pry my fingers underneath, but it’s no use. The look on Kane’s face is pure amusement. I swallow and calm myself. I stop thrashing long enough to think this through. My wrists are small, and that will work to my advantage.

I notice the rope seems to be tied in a figure eight, looping back around again, binding my wrists together. I pull until the left side is tight, causing the rope around my right hand to loosen just slightly. I pry my fingers under the rope to loosen it more, sliding my hand up. The rope around my left has gotten so tight, it’s cutting
off my circulation, and my hand starts to go numb, but I don’t stop. After I get the rope over the biggest part of my fist, my right hand suddenly comes free, and then with a free hand, it’s easy to pull the rope off my left.

Kane’s grin fades when the rope drops to the ground behind me. “One minute thirty-four seconds,” he says, stopping the timer. “Let’s see what you’ll do when motivated. We’ll make it more interesting this time.” He pushes me towards the pool, bending to grab the rope.

We stand at the edge of the pool, my heart hammering in my chest. He turns me and begins to tie my wrists behind me again. I struggle against him, trying to pull my arms free. “You can’t – I can’t …”

He whips me around to face him and backhands me. The force of it stings
, and I taste blood on my lip. I’ve never been hit before, and I’m more surprised than anything else. I swallow down the lump in my throat and stare defiantly up at him. I will not cry. I breathe through my nose, trying to stay calm. If I’m going into the water, I need to hold myself together.

He resumes tying my wrists, and I hold them apart as far as I dare without him noticing, giving myself more room to work. Once he tests the ropes, checking that they’re secure, I know I’m about to be shoved into the water. I take a few deep breaths, trying to clear my head. I feel his hands on my back and take one last gulp of air
as he pushes me into the water.

I hit the water and instantly begin to sink, though I’m kicking my feet to stay afloat. My drenched clothes and the heavy rope are no match
, and in a few seconds I’m on the bottom of the pool. The instant my feet hit the bottom I begin working at the ropes using the same strategy I did before to free myself. I know I can do it again. Except underneath the water, the rope seems to give differently, and my arms are exhausted from the weights and climbing.

The lack of air is already starting to become uncomfortable. I blow
a stream of bubbles from my nose, preserving some of the air I have left in my lungs. My hands work faster, my fingers fumbling at the ropes. I know I’m not making any progress, and I begin to panic. I look up and see Kane’s blurry figure watching me from the edge of the pool. He waves at me.

The pain and anger push me to work faster. My fingers pry at the rope, twisting and pulling with all I have. I
become disoriented and forget which hand I’m working to free. I release the last of the air I’ve been holding, and my lungs scream out for oxygen. I know I only have a few more seconds of consciousness and pull violently at the ropes, flailing my arms behind me. It only serves in making them tighter. My feet push up from the bottom as I try to swim for the surface, but without my arms, I’m like a rock and sink back down.

Above me, something catches my attention. I see Kane struggling with someone and hear shouting that’s muffled by the water. Suddenly someone’s in the water with me. But I can’t hold my breath any longer. My brain screams for air, and I choke down a gulp of water just as hands reach out and grab me.

When I come to,
I’m lying on the concrete at the edge of pool, turned on my side. I gasp for air. I cough and cough and the chlorinated water burns my throat on its way up. I look up and see Will – soaking wet – shove Kane hard, knocking him back several steps. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he yells.

“I was testing her – just like you would have done,”
Kane answers, though suddenly not so certain.

“No
! Not like I would have done.” Will shoves him again. My heart pounds, and I lift up on my elbow to watch. “O’Donovan wants her alive,” Will says to him.

“I’m sorry,
I didn’t think there’d be any harm,” Kane adds, his voice shaking.

“Get out of here
.” Will’s voice is angry, commanding, and Kane doesn’t argue.

I hear
Kane’s heavy footsteps as he leaves through the gymnasium, but I don’t sit up until I hear the door click behind him.

Will
stands over me. “You all right?” He reaches one hand out toward me.

I nod and take it
, and he hauls me to my feet. I know not to trust him, that he didn’t save me to be chivalrous, but after my near drowning, my brain is confused.

When I stand, my knees tremble and
I falter, but Will slips his arm around my waist, holding me steady.

“Think you can make it down the hall?”

I nod again, not trusting my voice. My throat’s still raw from coughing.

He holds onto me for a few seconds
more to be sure, then drops his arm. We leave the gymnasium, and he leads me down the hall. It feels strangely civilized to walk behind him, just following him, rather than having someone push me ahead blindly so they can keep me in their sights. I could turn and run right now – but honestly, where would I go? Every room here is locked down. I size him up, wondering how hard it’d be to overtake him. Impossible, I quickly decide.  He’s at least a head taller than me – well over six feet, and his entire body is solid and lean with muscle.

My feet squish in my shoes
, and I leave a dripping trail through the hall. I wonder where he’s taking me.

He scans into a door and holds it open for me. I walk in ahead of him. It’s some type of common room – there are couches and tables and people around my age hanging out. It seems so normal, and that makes it seem
completely impossible.

“Welcome to the
bunker.” Before I have the chance to ask him what the bunker is, he speaks again. “Hey, Sam.”

A girl
playing cards in the corner of the room picks up her head and looks over at us. She sits up straighter when she notices Will. He tilts his head, motioning her over to us, and she gets up from the table, folding her cards in front of her.

Sam
is several inches taller than me and much more solidly built. Golden hair falls like a curtain down her back, and her face is open and friendly.

“This is Eve. Will you get her something dry to wear and som
ething to eat?”

“Is she with us now?”
Sam asks, studying me in disbelief. It’s obvious I’m no guard.

“We’ll see.”

Sam nods and sticks her hand out to me. “Hey.”

I shake it weakly.
“Hey,” I manage. My voice croaks, despite my best effort.

“You’re all wet,” she says.

“Yeah, Kane’s an idiot,” Will says, by way of explanation. “Call me when you’re through, and I’ll come back and get her.” He turns and leaves. The moment the door shuts behind him, the people around us begin talking and playing cards once again.

“So who are you?”
Sam asks, looking me over. “And why has Will taken a special interest in you?” A smirk plays on her lips.

“I’m
… nobody. One of O’Donovan’s side projects, that’s all.”

She nods once. “Okay, come on. I think we can find something that fits you.”

I follow Sam into a dormitory that’s connected to the bunker. It’s dim in here, with moonlight peeking into the room through the high up windows. All the beds are dressed in white sheets, just like in the hospital. Only here the beds don’t have shackles. I haven’t noticed before now, but the promise of dry clothes reminds me that I’m shivering. My teeth chatter while I wait for her to locate something for me to wear. “So what is this place?” I ask.

She rummages through a locker
, pulling out stray articles and holding them up to inspect. “Several years ago, the officials decided Defects could be used for something more – their dirty work. We’re not Sleepers, after all.” She finally settles on a pair of cargo pants and a hooded sweatshirt and tosses them to me. I’m growing used to the lack of underpants here, and thank goodness – for once – that things up top don’t exactly require a bra.

I strip down and
change quickly in front of her, long past caring about modesty. I leave my wet clothes in a heap beside her bed, along with the towel she let me use.

She turns to leave the room,
then stops suddenly just before we reach the door. “Wait.” She goes back to her locker and comes back with a comb. She holds it up and smiles. I smile back, but it feels lopsided, like I’m out of practice. “Sit.” She points me towards the nearest bed, and I comply.

She begins at the ends of my hair and combs it out, working through the snarls and tangles until my hair is smooth and hangs straight down my back. Her kindness overwhelms me
, but I stay quiet. Then I feel her fingers work to separate my hair into three equal sections and she begins braiding it. When she reaches the bottom, she tugs an elastic band from her wrist with her teeth and secures it around the bottom of my braid.