Page 172 of Rage

I clench my fists and resist the urge but, still, I wish I could know what he was thinking—connect our minds so neither of us had to feel so alone. We’d heard rumors that others under the experiments had been able to, but we’d always remained stable, unchanged by the vials and syringes of ‘medicine’ Imperium’s doctors had forced upon us.

For us, it’s only in stolen moments when we’re both alone that we can find reprieve in each other’s arms. It’s only then that we can open up like we haven’t in years.

I press a hand to my stomach, feeling a riot of something inside. I’m late. I’ve never been late a day in my life, not since I started my period at thirteen years old, but today will make almost a week late. My gaze slants back to Cyrus. We haven’t had a moment alone since the last time we were together—nearly amonth ago now. I wonder if I’m … I can’t think of it, but my mind won’t let me stop once I’ve opened the door.

I picture a small boy with wide hazel eyes and dark brown hair with a jaw like his daddy. I wonder if Cyrus would be excited, if he’d be happy. No. It’s more likely he’d be horrified. We can’t have a baby in this place. My stomach rolls again. At least if it’s true, I’m not showing yet. We’re safe for now, but that will only last so long. Eventually, there will be no hiding the truth.

We have to escape, and we have to do it soon.

Chapter Two

My breath catches as we reach the meeting room, and my hand falls away from my stomach.

Cyrus’ handler moves to open the doors and holds one of them open. Cyrus passes through first, his head turning side to side as he pauses for a moment, scanning the inside. A moment later, he steps to the side, and I enter after him.

I once asked him why he bothered going first to check each room when he knows we don’t have any choice. It’s not like I can refuse to participate in whatever they have planned for us.

If they ever decide to lead us to our deaths, I want to make sure to give you every chance to get away, baby. If they kill me first, then you’ll know to run.His words echo in my mind, little daggers in my heart.I can’t even picture him being gunned down in a valiant effort to protect me, to give me just a few more seconds to get away without wanting to puke. I hadn’t been able to tell him that if I had to watch him die in front of me, I would lay down at his side and let them end me too.

Surviving Imperium without him is not an option I want to accept.

Inside the meeting room, there are twelve chairs set up towards the front of the flat, undecorated room. There are nowindows, and that same lighting burns into my corneas each and every time.

“It looks like only the top class is here,” Cyrus murmurs. Neither handler complains, but I flash them both a dark look. Now that we’ve arrived where we’re supposed to be, they don’t give a shit if we talk.

I glance over the room and frown. “Why would they call only the twelve of us here?”

Cyrus’ shoulders stiffen, squaring as a muscle jumps in the underside of his jaw. “I don’t know,” is his only reply.

The answer of the century. I don’t know. None of us know a damn thing, except that these people don’t see us as one of them; they don’t even see us as human.

Cyrus takes the first seat and I take the second, corresponding with the ranking we’re informed of each week. As Cyrus and I are the most experienced under Imperium’s tutelage, we have higher scores. We’ve survived more experiments and tests, all without losing our fucking minds.

The two of us go silent, letting the quiet in the room hang there in an effort to piss off the handlers. They always expect us to say something when we’re with other trainees—whether that’s to start a fight or an attempt at forming friendships. We’re not that stupid. Not anymore.

My first ‘friend’ from this place is either rotting in a grave somewhere or the doctors had seen to the cremation of her body. In fact, the second is far more likely. After all, burning the bodies of their victims is likely a far safer way to hide their crimes.

Soon enough, the door opens again, and another trainee enters, followed by another and another. The seats begin to fill up, and as they do, each handler takes their position on the far wall, next to the short stage raised from the floor. As if Director Devine needs another way to feel superior—he has to stand a head above those he keeps locked in this ‘research lab’ of his.

Once the chairs have all been filled and each top trainee is accounted for, a calm drifts over all of us. I turn my face to the ceiling and let my eyelids drift shut.

Just like right before a storm hits, everything is quiet and serene. I count out the seconds as I focus on the sounds around me. The beat of my heart in my ears. The echo of Cyrus’ breathing. The shuffling of shoes on the tiled floor.

The sharp squeak of a door being pulled open disrupts the careful calm all too soon. I open my eyes and sit up straight as Director Devine steps into the room.

All at once, the air changes. The calm from before morphs into an icy rage, a cold killer’s instinct.

The caged monsters of Imperium are before their owner, and they are angry.

Chapter Three

Hatred isn’t just an emotion. It’s a vile creature, a weight that sits inside your chest and slithers through your lungs to infect you from the inside out. It erases every smile, every laugh, every good thought you’ve ever had until the only thing you know is the fires of cruelty. You stare into the abyss of evil, and you turn it into a dragon that must be slaughtered.

All around me, the carefully controlled breathing of the other trainees is loud in my ears. In the beginning, I thought I hated them too, when our handlers and the doctors had pitted us against each other, forced our bodies into painful positions of either fight and survive or resist and suffer.

Most of us had fought each other because we’d seen what had happened to those who hadn’t. Pacifists have no place in hell.

I stare at Director Devine as he makes his way to the stage. He’s an older man, a man I know all too fucking well. A couple of the younger trainees squirm in their seats, but Cyrus and I remain motionless, waiting for the snake to strike.

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