Page 94 of Fallen Stars

My life is pointless without you, moje srce.

TWENTY-SEVEN

LEVI

Day Sixty

A thick handstrangles my bicep as I am guided down a long, narrow corridor. The guard should know he doesn’t need to hold me with such a firm grip. He doesn’t need to lead me with such force.

Not anymore.

I no longer have the physical strength to fight. I barely have the strength to walk.

Head hung, I stare down my bony frame and wonder if this really ismybody. My gaze roams over my grimy underwear. Before I was taken, my underwear hugged my waist and thighs. I saw the slight definition of my muscles beneath the fabric. Now, they dangle limply and threaten to fall off my prominent hip bones. Now, the cotton barely grazes my legs.

The evidence of my unsanitary condition paints my skin, coats my hair, tarnishes my breath, and embeds itself under my lengthy nails. Without a doubt, I smell putrid. Lucky for me, I became desensitized to foul odors some time ago.

Glowing lights brighten the corridor and I study the floor and lower walls as we walk.

Pristine white tiles with black grout run the length of the corridor floor. Unlike the location of my first cell, this place smells uncontaminated. Sterile. A blend of chemicals and artificial fragrances. A brighter white than the floor, the walls are spotless. Perfect. As though they have never been touched.

Searing pain erupts in the muscles in my legs and my gait stutters. On my next step, my ankle starts to twist as I plant my foot. I hiss as fire shoots up the side of my shin.

Before I twist it fully and fall face-first onto the floor, the guard tightens his hold and yanks me upright.

He clucks his tongue. “Can’t break one of our favorite toys before the big event.”

Big event?

I lean into his hold to take some of the weight off my ankle. As we weave through a maze of hallways, I dig into my memories and search for any details about an event.

My memories are thinning cirrostratus clouds. I see them in my mind’s eye, but most aren’t clear. Many hang on by a thread. The longer I’m isolated and locked away, the quicker I forget things, especially from before.

In the beginning, I recited important facts over and over. Said them with intention. Forced myself to think of something other than my present situation.

But as time moved forward and my future seemed bleaker, I narrowed my focus. I repeated simple things, such as my name and where I’m from. I stowed everything else in the back of my mind and left it for when it was safe to remember.

Now, I need to dig up one of those memories. I need to remember what this big event is and what it means for me.

The guard takes a sharp turn at the next corridor. I stumble and scramble to put one foot in front of the other. Before I getmy bearings, he opens a door with a key card and hauls me inside a shiny room.

A man in white scrubs and a dark-blue coat steps into view. His dark eyes scan me head to toe as his lips form a tight line. He shakes his head as his gaze shifts to the guard.

“How many times do I need to speak with Cap about living conditions prior to game day?” The man crosses his arms over his chest and huffs.

Cap?

The guard releases me and throws his hands up next to his face. “Don’t get pissy with me, man.” He mirrors the other man’s posture and cocks a brow. “Cap gives orders and I follow them.”

The room goes quiet. My gaze darts between the two men as they have a verbal standoff.

Dropping his arms, the guard inches closer to the man in the scrubs. “We all know what happens when orders aren’t followed.” The guard lifts his hands and brushes the other man’s shoulders before slapping his back. “Get him ready. I hear several offers are on the table for our pretty little spy.”

Spy?

How am I a spy?

I don’t know if it’s morning or night, let alone the day of the week or year. How the hell am I a spy?

---