Page 38 of The Order

“What do we do now?” the man holding the Re-Regulation device questions.

Adam says nothing as he jabs his fingers into the girl’s wound, coating his fingers in her blood and letting her screams fill the air once more. Adam quickly swipes the Re-Regulation device away from the man, placing her blood on a small test strip often used to test blood sugar in older Untouchables. The screen loads as Adam remains crouched over the girl.

My anxieties grow as Fallan clenches the back of my neck so tight I think he might be trying to suffocate me. I know it is nothing more than fear driving his touch. The device sounds a chime, the screen flashing red, coating Adam’s face in the light from the device.

“What a shame,” Adam murmurs, reaching into his coat pocket.

“What did it say?” one of the men questions, looking over the screen with wide eyes.

“You, my dear, are only 12% Tainted,” Adam starts, looking over the girl with a wide grin. She claws at him, only hurting herself in the process. “Sadly, that's not enough to keep you alive,” Adam hisses, pulling out the pistol from his holster and pointing it straight at the Untouchables head.

The loud bang fills my ears. It takes everything inside of me not to flinch away. Her blood covers my face and Fallan’s, streaking our cheeks in red. I see the smoke exit the wound in her head. The horrific scream in my lungs only festers at the sight of her fragmented brain scattered across the lawn. Her eyes are dull and lifeless. Her blood coats the ground around her. Adam’s face is splattered with her blood as well. His smile remains plastered to his face as he draws his weapon back to his holster. All of the men look unamused, conversing about after-work activities as if this is all nothing to them. There are no words to describe what I felt at that moment. If Fallan weren’t touching the back of my neck right now, I would have vomited right there on the spot, outing myself to the murderers who have always been our protectors.

But they killed her without a second thought.

They killed an Untouchable.

An Untouchable who was supposed to be protected by the very man who pulled the trigger, all because of a mark like the one that paints my torso, like her blood that now paints the lawn.

Chapter twelve

Forest

Theroughtextureofa rag moves across my face, making my skin tingle with pain. An Official wipes repeatedly, even working the rag through my hair to rid my front of any evidence of the atrocious murder they just committed. My eyes are glued shut, not daring to peek open, even after they turn their attention to anyone else who might have been hit with the girl’s blood. I feel them work on Fallan, rubbing more aggressively than they did with me.

“Look how pathetic this is,” one of the men says, pulling Fallan’s limp hand away from my neck. I hear his body roll as they move him onto his back.

“That Unfortunate running the booth had his hands all over this pretty little Untouchable,” the man says, running his fingers through my hair, working his touch dangerously close to the top of my chest.

My stomach rolls with nausea. I start to sweat uncontrollably as his fingers fumble with my shirt.

“Mind your touch,” Adam snaps, slapping away the hands of whoever was about to run their fingers beneath my bra strap. “That includes leaving the sewer trash alone,” Adam continues. The thud of Fallan’s head meeting the dirt fills my ears.

“What's one more little cut on him? His back is already torn to shreds,” the man messing with Fallan questions. I want nothing more than to take his prod and beat him over the head with it. My mark's pain grows at the idea of hurting all of the men standing around us.

“Get the hell up and start cleaning. You aren't getting paid to make more of a mess,” Adam spits. The men hovering near Fallan sigh. Their knees pop as they stand, following the order of their superior.

A man's booted foot stands on my wrist, putting all his weight on the weak bones. It takes all I have not to wince. The pressure increases as the man leans his weight into his hip. Rocks dig into the top of my hand, scratching and tearing the skin. My fingers are numb, growing more pained the more prolonged the blood flow is restricted. The sound of trash bags flaring open is heard. The men grumble, spraying bottles filled with a robust solution that burns my nose. A wet feeling hovers over my front, increasing the strong smell of chemicals surrounding the air.

“Aren’t these two Blackburn’s kids?” one of the men questions, standing closer to Kai as he acknowledges my exposed face. My last name leaves his mouth like he’s one of my family's closest friends.

I feel a body move closer, bending down to observe me, warming my body with its sudden presence before moving back into its standing position.

“Yes, you dense moron,” Adam says, shoving back the man standing on my wrist. “So, get off her hand before her father has a fit when we give him the rundown about tonight,” Adam finishes.

My father would never support this. He would never support the murder ofchildren.

“Blackburn created a beauty like that?” A man sneers, getting uncomfortably close.

“Yes,” Adam says, grabbing the material of the man's jacket. “Andhewants her, so keep your fucking hands off and finish cleaning,” Adam says, dismissing all of the men crowding us.

“What do you want us to input for the others, sir?” someone questions, motioning around to the students who are still face down on the ground.

It's the voice of the man who held the Re-Regulation device above the girl.

“Make them think only a few seconds have passed. They all zoned off during this miserable movie but can’t acknowledge it. As far as they know, all they did was blink, and they lost track of time. How much longer until we are cleaned up?” Adam questions.

“Ten seconds, boss, and then we are good to clear out,” another Official says.

---