Deviation (15 page)

My heartbeat pounds between my temples. It sends shockwaves of pain down my skull and out the tips of my limbs. Even my fingertips seem to tremor against the blankets with each echoing pulse. I can’t move without wincing in pain. The migraine is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. I vow to make it the last time I stand and let Titus hit me.

Maria has been in and out with food for two days, but I haven’t touched anything beyond water. Titus came in again sometime during the early morning, but it hurt too badly to open my eyes. I felt his eyes on me for a while and then he left without a word. Just as well. I had nothing to say in return that wouldn’t get me killed.

Someone, Josephine I think, took my blood on the first day but no one said why.

The one thing that keeps me awake is the thought of Linc. I don’t know where he is or what has happened to him. None of the guards have come close enough for me to ask. Alton poked his head in after Maria earlier but he didn’t stay and I couldn’t make my tongue form the words inside my aching mouth.

Everything hurts. My head. My body. My heart.

If Titus has done something to harm him, I …

Nothing I can imagine is fitting. The thought is still unfinished when my bedroom door opens and Maria arrives with two white pills and a glass of water.

“From Dr. Josephine,” she says.

I place them inside my mouth and swallow without asking what they are. Maria waits patiently while I drink. Her gaze is strangely interested, but I am far too exhausted inside and out to care. I ignore the feeling of my jaw moving as I swallow. The right side of my face feels deformed and too large for the skin that covers it.

When I’m finished, Maria takes the glass. Without a word, she turns to go. I let her, unwilling to answer her questions or worse, pretend there aren’t any questions to ask. I settle back against my pillow as she leaves, hating how sleep is already overtaking me and I haven’t done a single thing to save Linc. Or anyone else.

I am more asleep than awake once the pills kick in. My dreams are vivid yet untouchable. I can’t seem to grasp the meaning of the abstract pictures and trails of color that coat my subconscious yet vanish the moment my eyes blink open. Soft yellows and pale whites—the images are faces without names set in places I’ve never visited. I try to find a meaning but exhaustion overtakes me before I can speculate too deeply.

What sort of drugs are these?
That is my final thought as I succumb to yet another round of hazy, faceless dreams.

The woman from the picture beckons me. Her stiff arms are held hostage in the constraining threads of her too-small dress. I want to ask her why she’s wearing a garment made for a child, but no words come. I walk closer and closer until I’m standing outside the frame itself. She reaches a hand toward me and I raise my own tentatively closer to the surface of the photo in front of me.

The woman’s lips move. Ven, she seems to say. Nothing else. Just Ven.

I come awake suddenly, sitting straight up. Dizziness washes over me as I struggle to identify who or what disturbed me. My bedcovers glow with the faintest sliver of moonlight slanting through the thin gap between my curtains. It is enough to see my room is empty. With quiet breaths, I listen for noise beyond my closed door.

The remnant of a girl’s scream cuts through the stillness. It echoes up as if through the floor, though I can’t be sure through the distortion my dizziness has caused. My pulse speeds from erratic pulsing to a panicked hum inside my head. I hold my breath and listen, praying it was my imagination, a leftover from my drug-induced dreams.

The second scream is louder than the first followed by a muffled baritone yell. I throw the covers back and swing my legs over. I can’t just lie here. Not anymore.

My door is unlocked and unguarded. I’m not sure if this is normal now that Alton has taken over—they can just as easily monitor me via the cameras that wink at me in the darkness overhead—or if the commotion coming from the floor below has drawn everyone else before me. Either way, I’m glad for it.

I pull my door shut behind me with a quiet click and, one hand on the wall to keep my bearings, I go right—toward the back stairwell. These stairs lead to two things. The gym and Daniel’s cell.

My heartbeat is erratic as I contemplate all of the possibilities for someone from either location yelling in the middle of the night.

At the end of the hall, I push open the heavy door and go completely still against the doorframe, positive someone will come running at the sound the weighted hinges make. But no one does. The stairwell remains quiet. I force my eyes to adjust, blinking frantically at the sudden bright light. They must keep the lights on here, no matter the hour. Either that or someone has recently used this access point—and maybe will again at any moment. I hurry forward.

With each step down, my heartbeat thuds against my temple; the pain meds have worn off. My hands cling to the bannister until my knuckles turn white. I haven’t heard another sound since leaving my bedroom.

Maybe it was a dream.

A heavy thud shakes the walls, rising up from the floor below me and vibrating the stair underneath my feet. I press on, one foot then the other, gripping the railing and breathing heavily. My face feels too large on one side, as if the skin has been stretched and a tennis ball wedged underneath. The puffiness around my eye encroaches on my peripheral vision. I keep my head turned slightly right to compensate, wanting to see the doorway leading out to the lower floor the moment it comes into view. One more step. Another. Then a third.

I pass the landing that leads to the gym, hesitating only briefly as I consider searching for Josephine. In the end, I decide against it. Besides Linc, there isn’t anyone inside these walls I fully trust.

Finally, I step off the last stair and onto level ground again. I lean against the wall, winded and trying to see around the black dots that wink at me from the edges of my vision.

Above me, the door opens and someone enters the stairwell. My heart lurches straight up and into my throat. I fumble for the handle, fling the door open, and slip out, uncaring about the noise I make so long as I find a place to hide. The door swings shut behind me on automatic hinges, leaving me in the dimly lit hallway. It stretches right before curving away toward the cells. To the left is a short hall of what looks like storage closets.

I go left, trying knobs and hoping for an unlocked storage closet before whoever is in the stairwell reaches this floor. Three doors down, I turn and the knob gives. I push open the door and slip inside a dark room, guiding the latch closed as quietly as possible behind me. Just as the latch catches, I hear the stairwell door open and then shut again.

Then everything is silent.

I don’t dare move or even try to conceal myself. The complete blackness I stand in makes it impossible to know where to step. I stand where I am, just behind the door, and will the person to have gone the other way.

When I hear the knob turn, I jump and flatten myself against the wall. The door opens, brushing against my toes. A second later, the light clicks on, flooding the space. My vision swims in a sea of white light. I blink furiously, trying to bring the face into focus. Wisps of brown hair frame a pretty face.

“Raven?”

My panic dials back and my breath whooshes out. “Josephine,” I manage.

“What are you doing in here?” she asks. Her eyes settle on the right side of my face and then go wide. “Oh, darling. No one told me it was this bad. I’m so sorry.”

She pulls me into her shoulder, angling my face and pressing my unmarred cheek lightly against her in a hug. Her arms envelop me, one hand stroking my hair. I consider pulling away but it’s been so long since anyone touched me—anyone other than Linc and that’s different—that I let her. It feels … motherly. Or what I imagine motherly affection would be. Something inside me loosens and my eyes fill with tears.

We stand that way until she pulls back. Even then, she keeps a hand on my shoulder. With the other, she strokes my hair, careful to keep away from my swollen eye. “How are you feeling?” she asks. Her expression is awash with sympathy. I try to ignore it and the way she’s touching me. It’s too nice. If I let it, her caring will break me apart.

“My head hurts,” I admit. I don’t tell her how much or that the knot below my eye has begun pulsing to its own beat.

“I sent some pills up for you.” She frowns and glances at her watch. “I guess they’ve worn off by now.”

I don’t answer. She sighs and inspects my face again, this time with the trained eye of a medical professional. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come myself. He wouldn’t let me.”

I don’t bother to ask. We both know who she means. “Have you seen Linc?” I ask instead.

She shakes her head. “Not since this morning. Or, I guess I should say yesterday morning at this point. I didn’t realize it was so late. Is everything okay, Raven? What are you doing down here?”

“I heard a noise. It woke me up.”

The skin around her eyes tightens fractionally and I realize she knows about the noise. There’s something she isn’t telling me. “Josephine,” I say. “What was the noise?”

“Raven.” Her shoulders sag. “You should go back to bed.”

“What are you doing down here?” I try instead.

“I came to replenish some gauze and other supplies for my cabinet upstairs.” She picks up a box and tucks it under her arm. “And here it is. Would you like me to walk you back to your room?”

My jaw hardens. “No.” The affection I felt from her a moment ago evaporates. She’s lying. Has she always lied? Why now? “Has something happened to Linc?”

She doesn’t need to say a word to confirm it.

I shove her aside and wrench open the door.

“Raven, wait,” Josephine says from behind me. I don’t wait. “You can’t go down there.” I speed up. “Raven!” she says and her tone has changed to ice. She means it. I wonder how far she’ll go to stop me.

I break into a run.

The carpet in the hallway is warm under my feet, but mostly it provides more traction against my bare toes. I sprint as fast as I can, ignoring the pounding against my temple and Josephine’s cries from behind me. She hasn’t caught up yet and I wonder if she doesn’t really want to. I don’t have the energy to keep this pace up but the hallway isn’t long. I round the corner at the far end and stop short.

Two guards stand at the far end of the row of cells, arms crossed and scowls set. When they see me, their eyes widen and one of them takes a step forward. I scan the space and my decision is made. The door to Daniel’s cell is open. The sound of heavy grunting and shoes scuffling alerts me to movement inside.

Behind me, I hear Josephine call my name again. In front of me, one of the guards is moving slowly toward me, measuring his steps and eyeing me like one would a wounded animal. I dart forward and sidestep him, ducking into Daniel’s cell before he can recover and grab me.

The scene inside the cell is the last thing I expect.

Linc is here but not as a prisoner. He has Daniel pinned against the far wall and his fists are pounding into Daniel’s body, his face, his stomach, his ribs. Over and over, he lands punches. Each time, Daniel grunts, but he looks like he’s past the point of fighting back or even blocking the blows. There is an open cut underneath his eye. Blood streams steadily from the wound and down his face, soaking into his shirt. His nose is crooked and also bleeding.

I gag a little at the sight of the blood trickling into his mouth and down his chin, mixing with saliva as it drips to the floor. Linc lands another punch against Daniel’s jaw and a mouthful of saliva and blood spews sideways from Daniel’s swollen lips.

“Linc!” I scream because nothing about this makes sense. Where is Titus? Or Alton?

Linc turns at the sound of my voice and our gazes lock. The skin underneath his left eye sports a bruise a horrific shade of purple and there’s a small amount of blood trickling out of his ear, but he doesn’t look nearly as bad as Daniel. I breathe in relief, but then I see Daniel cocking his arm back and my mouth tightens.