She stared at the man. He looked familiar, but it was hard to tell. His features were swollen and bruised, his nose broken and his lips smashed to a pulp. Somebody had worked him over with brutal efficiency.
It was Bear who broke the silence. “Steven? Steven Yingling?”
Moran gasped. Was that Steven? It couldn’t be. “What did you do to him?”
The guards ignored her, dumping Steven into the cell next to Bruce before departing as quickly as they came.
“Steven?” Moran called, banging on the bars. “Steven, are you okay?”
A loud groan sounded. “I…I’m okay. I think.”
“You don’t look okay, buddy,” Bear said. “You look like roadkill.”
A faint laugh sounded. “I feel like it.”
“Can you sit?” Moran asked.
“I could try,” Steven mumbled through broken lips. Inch by torturous inch, he levered himself upright until he sat with his back against the bars.
“What happened?” Moran asked.
He sighed, head hanging low on his chest. “I’m sorry, Moran. I didn’t mean to tell them.”
“Tell them what?” Moran asked, her stomach doing a slow roll.
“Everything.” He remained silent for a moment before continuing. “They got me when I reported for duty. Dragged me to a room. Questioned me.”
“They tortured you?” Moran said.
“Sikes did. He worked me over good. I…I told him about the raid. I’m sorry,” Steven said with an audible hitch in his voice.
Moran closed her eyes and breathed through her nose. It all made sense now. The ambush, everything. “Did you tell them about Patti?”
He shook his head. “No, just you.”
“And the other rebels?”
“Sikes didn’t ask. He was more concerned with the raid. He wanted you most of all.”
“Of course, he does. Now that he has me, he’s got the whole Rebel Faction,” Moran said.
Steven dropped his head into his hands. “I shouldn’t have talked. I tried not to, but when Sikes…when he…”
“It’s alright, Steven. I don’t blame you,” Moran said, wincing at the pain in Steven’s voice. “How did they find out about you being a mole?”
“I don’t know, but I can guess who told them,” Steven said.
“Kat,” Moran said with gritted teeth. “It has to be her.”
“Who else?”
“That bitch,” Bear said. “If I catch her, I’ll strangle her with my bare hands.”
“Me first,” Moran said as a flash of rage ignited in her belly. I should never have trusted her. I knew there was something wrong about her, and I ignored it.
“What happened to Bruce?” Steven asked.
“He got shot with a crossbow,” Moran said, reminded of their predicament.
“Is he dead?”
“I hope not, Steven. I really hope not.”
Steven grunted. “Me too.”
Moran leaned against the bars as anger gave way to despair. It had all gone to hell in less than a day. Bruce and Steven were severely injured, Bear was in chains, and all of them were at the mercy of Sikes. The one man in Prime City who had none.
At least, there was something thing to be thankful for. Patti was safe. Even if Kat had told Sikes about the other woman, she’d already moved to a new location. One Kat didn’t know about. I just need to keep my mouth shut, that’s all.
But one look at Steven’s mangled face said it all. Keeping her mouth shut was not going to be easy. We have to escape. It’s our only hope. But how?
***
Another slow hour passed during which Moran paced her cell like a crazed tiger. She’d already examined every inch of the cells, and she had yet to find a weakness. The bars were made of solid iron, each one fixed into stone and concrete. The cells were bare, as well, with nothing to use as a weapon.
During that time, neither Steven nor Bear spoke, each lost in their own thoughts. Bruce never stirred, and she feared the worst.
Finally, she dropped to the floor, too tired to carry on. Then she heard footsteps, more than one pair. Can it be?
Moran looked up from her seated position on the floor, hope kindling in her breast. It burst into flame when she spotted the first guard entering with a stranger in tow: An old woman carrying a satchel and a covered basket.
Moran scrambled to her feet. “You came back!”
The guard grunted. “I did, and you owe me one. This is Gladys, and she’ll tend to your friend.”
Moran blinked back sudden tears. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“Don’t mention it,” the guard replied in gruff tones. “I mean it, too. Don’t mention this to anyone. I don’t want to get into trouble.”
“I promise,” Moran said. At that point, she was willing to sell her soul to save Bruce’s life.
The guard unlocked Bruce’s cell, and Gladys shuffled inside. After a brief examination, she shook her head. “He’s alive, but barely.”
“Can you help him?” Moran asked, her heart in her throat.
“Of course, I can, but I need absolute quiet. No questions, no talking. Got it?” Gladys said, wagging a crooked finger.
“Got it.”
Moran watched with bated breath as Gladys set to work. The old woman stripped off Bruce’s shirt and washed his torso with a foul-smelling liquid that set their eyes to watering. Then she used a scalpel to cut the bolt free from his flesh. Bruce never stirred. “He’s lucky. It went into the bone of the shoulder, but he’s lost a lot of blood.”
Moran remained silent as Gladys stitched up the wound and plastered a thick concoction over the area. After wrapping him up with a bandage, she removed a bottle from her basket. “When he wakes up, tell him to drink this. A few sips every hour. It will help with the pain and infection.”
“I’ll tell him,” Moran said.
“He’ll need water too. Lots of it,” Gladys said, tossing the empty jug in the cell to the guard. “See that he gets it.”
The guard grumbled something beneath his breath but took the jug. “Fine.”
Gladys got to her feet, her knees shaky. “That’s the best I can do. The rest is up to him. Don’t try to wake him. Sleep is the best healer.”
“What about him?” Moran asked, pointing to Steven.
“Now you’re pushing it,” the
