Wreck frowns. “You really think I have no other means to get information from you?”
He unzips my jacket and pulls it down with one quick effective motion.
“Don’t touch me!” I scream, trying to rise to my feet, but Wreck yanks the chain, pulling me back down.
He grabs my shoulder, pressing me against the wall, and pushes up the sleeve of my t-shirt.
“There it is,” he grins, looking at my marks. “You were a racer, weren’t you? And what’s this mark?” he squints. “A trash picker?”
“Let me go!” I yell. “Take your hands off me!”
“Sorry,” he says suddenly. And for a moment he almost looks embarrassed.
He pulls my jacket up, zips it and shuffles away from me again.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats. It’s strange to hear an apology. I didn’t expect such a reaction from him. “Dang it, Amy! You could just answer my questions, you know. We didn’t have to go through all that.”
I offer no comment, scared yet furious at the same time.
“All right.” He takes Gabriel’s knife, staring at the blade as if he’s never seen it before. “Your life depends on what I hear next.” He gives me a hard piercing look. “Where did you get this knife?”
I become anxious. Should I lie or tell him the truth? What does he want to hear?
“I killed Master Gabriel,” I simply say. “It was his knife.”
“Why did you kill him?”
“In revenge for my friend.”
“Who was your friend?”
“Another racer.” A bitterness overwhelms me, forcing me to pause. For a moment I hear Amethyst’s cheerful laughter and see her long golden hair waving in the wind. Then I remember the blood spilling from her gunshot wound and her body spread across the floor, limp and motionless. I draw in a shivery breath and make myself continue, “She was the bravest, most beautiful person I’ve ever met. And Gabriel destroyed her. So I had to take care of him.”
Wreck shuts his eyes for a few moments. When he looks up at me again, there’s a broad smile across his face.
“How did you kill him?” he asks. “Give me details.”
I have a flashback of myself lying underneath Gabriel, choking and trying to push him away. The memory sends a chill down my spine as I recall my feeling of impending doom and desperation. What I did wasn’t an act of vengeance. I didn’t plan or even fully comprehend what I was doing.
But I can’t tell the truth, because I don’t want to admit how I’m just a victim. I want my captor to believe that I’m strong and tough.
So I give him a slightly altered version of what really happened. I describe how the following night after Amethyst’s murder I climbed into Gabriel’s bedroom, took his knife and slit his throat. I stood beside his bed, smiling as I watched him bleed to death. I also tell Wreck about my failed attempt to rescue my mother, but don’t have to change this part of the story too much.
My captor listens, open-mouthed and offering no comment. After I finish speaking, he shakes his head and says, “I swear!”
He lets out a brief laugh. He grips the knife so tightly that his fingers whiten from the pressure.
“Did Gabriel say anything before dying?” he asks.
“He pleaded for me to spare his life,” I lie.
“Wild!” Wreck chuckles. “That’s really wild. Did he die quickly?”
“Not as quickly as he’d hoped.”
“Damn!” he exclaims.
It’s really easy to lie to this guy.
“That’s crazy,” he sighs, becoming serious. “But I do believe you, Amy. You sure seem like somebody who could do all that.”
It sounds almost like a compliment. Although I’m not really tough or fearless at all, I let Wreck believe that I am.
“I think you and I were destined to meet,” he says solemnly, and I have no idea what this is supposed to mean.
He continues staring at me, his eyes glazed over as if in some sort of trance. He looks at me the way a hungry dog looks at a piece of meat, almost drooling. He stretches out his arm toward my face as I turn away. Wreck freezes, hesitating a moment, then quickly draws his arm back.
“Well,” he says, rising to his feet. “In a few hours I’ll be able to tell you what will happen to you.” He pauses, grinning. “But I reckon you and I are gonna have lots of fun together.”
He winks at me and quickly exits the shack, locking the door behind. I bite at the rope binding my wrists. I must get out of this place before he returns.
CHAPTER 22
After chewing on the rope for an hour my jaw aches as if I’d been grinding my teeth the entire night, but my hands are finally free. I grin, not fully believing I could actually manage to bite through the thick rope. It was a mistake for Wreck to bind my hands in front. Stretching, I rise to my feet, grip the metal chain and yank on it as hard as I can. I press my feet into the floor, pushing and leaning backward. I may be skinny, but my arms and legs are athletic. The months of intense training have made my muscles strong. I continue pulling and yanking at the chain for the next couple hours until becoming completely exasperated. Cursing quietly, I put all my strength into the effort, and the chain finally breaks free from the floor. I plop onto my back, landing hard.
I jump to my feet and try the door, although I do remember it’s locked. I give the door a few kicks and it bursts open. Carrying the chain, which is still attached to the collar
