Page 8 of Ravage
Once I’ve grabbed my backpack from the bushes, I take the long walk back to downtown, where the city is still alive and active, even in the early hours of the morning. People are dressed for the nightlife as they meander down the sidewalks, coming and going from bars, pubs, nightclubs, and whatever debauchery spots are open.
My lips curve into a smile as I take in the view. Vibrant neon signs cast a blue-purple glow on the streets and buildings, creating their own light enough that plain street lamps aren’t needed. Chatter and the rumble of engines are a steady background buzz that is comforting in its constant noise.
I can’t sleep or relax in silence.
It’s a beautiful city. One I would have loved to explore more if not for the discovery of Jackson.
My phone vibrates in my back pocket, and I pull it out. Something flies out with it and tumbles to the ground. I narrow my eyes at the small rectangle and bend down to retrieve it, twisting my wrist around to see the front side. There’s another single address on it just like the last one that led me to Jackson’s apartment.
His gift, no doubt.
The impulse to toss it twitches my hand, but curiosity grips me before I can follow through. What sort of gift would he give me? A trap? He had me at the apartment if that was what he wanted, so then why bother sending me elsewhere?
Sighing, I look back to my phone to find a warning that my monthly plan is almost expired.
Great.
I pocket the card and my phone, shifting the one arm of the backpack I’m wearing further up my shoulder. I keep walking until I find an electronics store to buy another month of data and minutes. I stop by a pizzeria that smells too good to pass up, and once I’ve finished my meal, I finally bring the card back out.
I search for the address on Maps, and it appears twenty blocks away and most definitely on the outskirts of the city again.
Seems fishy, but I can’t help the need to know what sort of gift Jackson would be leaving me after all this time.
Maybe I shouldn’t seem too eager by rushing over there anyway.
It’s just after one in the morning. Nothing more unexpected than putting it off to the next day, right?
“—a liability. She never should have existed in the first place. Just kill her and be done with it,” an unfamiliar voice echoes outside the door.
“We can’t throw away a gift this useful. I can get her to control it.” I recognize this voice, but I don’t care enough to place it.
I’m a murderer.
A monster.
My arms tighten around my knees. I bury my face deeper into them as another sob escapes past my lips.
The tears don’t come.
I’ve gone through them all, wasted them in the first few days I’ve been locked away in solitary. In the pitch black, concrete room that leaves me with only my thoughts as I replay the moment I killed Vera over and over again.
I’m trapped in a Hell loop of my own making.
“It’s a waste of time. Don’t bother anyone else with this experiment of yours. If it fails, it’s on you,” the first voice answers.
“Of course.”
Light spills unforgivingly into the room as the door opens, blinding me in its harsh brightness.
“Get up!” Boots stomp across the floor, and a hand grabs my upper arm roughly to yank me up. The voice curses viciously. “You’re as ripe as a dead body.”
I stiffen when the image of Vera’s lifeless gaze immediately fills my mind. My chest constricts until the air in the room seems thinner, and I grab onto the arm of the person trying to force me to stand instinctively.
“Don’t touch me!” he snaps, smacking my hands away and pulling again until my feet are under me. “You’re lucky I’m the one getting you out of here after what you’ve just cost us. You’ll never be able to do what she could, so you’d better find a way to make yourself useful before I do exactly what they want me to do with you.”
I stumble onto my feet.
Fingers dig into either side of my face and jerk it until I’m staring blankly at Gordon.
