“What were those things in the forest?” she asked.
Memphis rubbed the back of his neck, and she couldn’t help but notice defined muscles flexing with his every move. He replied, “The darbarnes are beasts under the Mad King’s command. They are ruthless killers, ones that we have been fighting for many years.”
“Uh-huh,” Emory said skeptically as she sat back down. No matter how much logic or excuses her mind was coming up with—the fact was, those dabarnes were like wolverines that had met nuclear radiation.
They weren’t from Earth.
Head spinning, she looked at Memphis as he sheepishly said, “I’m sorry about overloading you earlier. I just thought if you could see for yourself, you would trust us more—trust me more. I know words can paint pretty truths. I never thought this would happen.”
He gestured to her entirety.
“Let me give you your first tour, if you’re okay with that.” Smiling warmly, he held out his worn hand to her.
“No. I’m good,” she said coldly.
Biting his lip, he looked like he wanted to say more, but thankfully, he stepped out of the room, leaving her alone.
***
At first, her anger had deferred the need to nourish her body, so she sat on the hard cot, her mind running in circles of the impossibility of what Memphis had told her. The blank wall provided no answers, and every couple of hours, Memphis came to show her where the restrooms were to relieve herself and tried to persuade her to eat. Her icy responses were enough to shut him down.
In the windowless room and hallways, depression clouded her thoughts, making her body feel heavy.
It was on the second day without water that the dehydration and hunger pangs outweighed her fear of getting killed.
Opening the door, Memphis tentatively stepped in. “Emory, I’m begging you...”
“I want to eat,” she cut him off.
Surprise flickered across his features, and he nodded. “Okay... okay good. Let’s go.”
This new world surrounding her was cold and metallic. Stepping out into the hallway, he said, “Dinner rush.”
Even though evening was upon them, the hallways bustled with life. Trying to ignore the on-looker’s glares, she weaved with Memphis throughout the crowd, heading toward a caged elevator. Curiosity blooming, she asked, “How many people live here?”
“There are sixty of us left, but Alby, who you met earlier, is constantly scouting for survivors. He is the only one who can go unnoticed. Other than Brokk.”
“Survivors of what?” Emory asked.
Memphis’s face darkened as he murmured, “Let’s just get food into you first.”
Pressing a worn copper button caused a chasm of clicks and whirs to sound as the gate opened, and they stepped in. Without a moment’s notice, the compartment dropped, and they freefell.
A scream threatened to choke her, and her stomach was thrown into her throat.
Smirking wickedly, Memphis yelled, “You get used to this!”
Looking frantically for something to hold on to, Memphis reached out, offering his hand which she blatantly ignored. In seconds, the compartment slowed, and the door grinded open, revealing a huge cavern, its coolness washing over them. Lamps were secured on the walls, washing the room in warm light; tables and chairs were scattered everywhere. Not missing a beat, Memphis led her to the far end of the room where it was a bit more private.
Grabbing her hand, she balked at the touch; his touch was warm and strong; anxiety pooled in her gut, but she didn’t pull away.
What are you doing?
Emory tugged her hand from his grip, and he pulled her out a chair. Motioning for her to sit, he said, “Wait here a moment.”
Looking around at the cavernous room, she took in the men and women that surrounded her. All wearing black, various weapons peeking from sheathes across their backs, thighs, and hips. The drawn faces revealed nothing but the bleak existence in this place.
Memphis rounded a corner, disappearing, and she finally crumpled. She wanted to scream and cry and possibly launch a chair across the room. Her mind reeled with questions. Not a minute later, Memphis came back carrying two steaming plates of what looked like steamed vegetables and some form of meat. Salivating, she tried not to rip the plate from his hands.
Setting them down, he took a seat across from her. Tensing, he tilted his head to the right, and Emory followed his gaze.
The woman with electric purple hair stood frozen at the elevator’s doors. Nyx, her name is Nyx, she reminded herself of this.
Memphis shook his head slightly as she continued her way to take a seat across from a man Emory didn’t notice before. His golden hair shone in the half-light, his eyes quickly flashing up to meet hers.
Brokk. The man from your nightmares.
Frowning at the strangeness of it all, Emory turned her attention back to Memphis. A migraine painfully pulsed in her head, threatening to break her skull, so she started with the easiest question she could muster.
“How do you get the resources to survive here?”
“Mostly Alby and Brokk. They can scout fast and easily without being detected. We usually do a week of collecting and hunting and wait until we run out and then repeat the cycle. We have a pipe system that collects rainwater and a water well. You can imagine, it requires a lot of maintenance. It makes for busy work, which is good.”
His gaze never left hers, even as he dived into his food.
She followed suit, the food melting in her mouth. It was divine.
Memphis swallowed and continued, “We have been building the Academy to be an indestructible force. Our safety is only possible thanks to Byrd though. Her ability cloaks our entire perimeter so that if anyone comes too close, they will only see rolling hills. It’s the only thing that has kept us alive this long.”
A hollowness grew in her stomach, as she remembered the night she escaped, and there was no building in sight when she had left. The impossibility of it all!
Memphis’s face darkened, his
