Page 38 of Nemesis

Not me.

Reese?

Someone else?

The space in front of me is pitch-black. I reach blindly to the left, my fingers tripping on a light switch. A row of dim bulbsflicker on, one after another, revealing the long-abandoned hallway. Grime clings to the walls. The air is stale.

There are doors every so often, all closed up tight. They have deadbolt locks on the outside of each one.

Memories of my time here surge up. Guards shoving us into the rooms, the scrape of metal on metal as they locked. The pungent fear overlaying despair.

I draw my gun and step into the hall. I creep down like something is going to leap out and bite me. I pause in the doorway of the room used by a sadistic doctor. It’s empty and weathered, the chair equipped with stirrups and restraints tipped over on its side and covered in dust.

She was the only woman who worked on this level—the only one I saw. She inspected us when we arrived, examined us after particularly vicious sessions, patched us up or drugged us when necessary, all with a cold, alien expression.

The tile floors are cracked, the glass cabinets over the counter broken, medical supplies strewn about. She didn’t bother to take anything of value with her, not the vials of drugs or anything else.

My throat tightens. I can’t breathe in this space, but my mind must’ve warped it, too. Because while it looks bad, it felt worse. And feelings dictate nightmares.

I step away. The more I explore this level—there’s an amphitheater at one end and two different shower rooms—the more I’m certain there’s no one here.

But there is another level.

To get to it, I have to take another staircase. It remained separate. The door acted as a warning to everyone trapped here, and a symbol of worse things if we were disobedient.

It’s been kicked inward, the metal door hanging at an odd angle, only attached by one hinge.

Fear coats my skin like sweat.

I really,reallydon’t want to be down here.

I get to the bottom of the stairs and inch out into the huge room. There are old, broken cameras mounted on the walls, directed at furniture that has long since been torn apart by rats… Or someone furious enough to rip them all apart.

My toe hits a glass bottle. It clinks as it rolls out in front of me. My stomach twists, and the fear rises up my throat. It chokes me, threatens to spill out if I let it. They kept so many boys and girls down here, got them addicted to drugs, and profited off their bodies.

And it was fear of ending upherethat kept us obedient upstairs.

“I knew you’d come here.”

I shriek and spin, raising my gun and flashlight together.

“Hey. It’s just me.” Apollo steps out of the shadows, a gun in his hand. It’s lowered down to his side, and his other hand extends to me.

I force myself to breathe and stuff mine back in its holster. While I’m getting more wound up, he exudes calm concern.

“Sheriff called me after he talked to you. Hinted about you doing something stupid after he mentioned the basement. This place…” He winces. “I wasn’t good enough to find you. It took me days to figure out you were gone, and weeks to beat it out of Dad. And then you were…”

My stomach twists. As much as it killsmeto be here, knowing Apollo knows what went on here is even worse. I was here for months—but it wasn’t justhere. I was shuffled around like my importance was noteworthy. A prize hidden under a shell, kept just out of Apollo’s reach.

I approach him. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“This bomb threat, Tem…” He takes my hand. “You don’t think they’d come down here, do you?”

Reese knows it.

Maybe Kade does, too.

“I think I’m going crazy,” I whisper.

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