Page 106 of The Vixen

My stomach turns as a Dreg in only a pair of dirty, white briefs snatches the meat from the clamp and hurries to shove it into his mouth. It’s less than a second before he’s tackled to the ground, the meat pried from his teeth by a stronger though equally desperate opponent.

The sight makes me shudder. Liberty looks over her shoulder at me, her eyes wide and pleading.

It’s okay, I mouth.

It’sreallynot.

The Keeper with the baton at our backs whips the cell door to force prisoners to clear out, the electric pulse of metal on metal lit up with a blue hue. Liberty gasps like she didn’t know it could be electric. I hate myself all over again.

But she’s a woman, and—unlike the prisoners—the Keepers have morals. They’re the least of our problems.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” I say to Liberty as we’re forced inside the cell with our hands still tied behind our backs. The cell door slams and kicks up dirt as it glides across the ground.

A few Dregs turn their attention to us, but most of the focus is put on the ‘food.’ Liberty and I back up into one of the corners while my head spins trying to think of a plan.Anyplan. At the very least, a lie.

“What is this place?” Liberty’s voice wobbles. “What’s happening? What are they going to do to us?”

“Nothing.” My eyes have been darting around in search for something sharp to cut the rope around our wrists, but now I look at Liberty. “Listen to me, we’refine. This is just a mistake. Luna will be here any minute.”

Liberty hunches forward with an exasperated exhale. “You mean the crazy fucking lunatic who just forced her boyfriend to…” Tears form in her eyes. Desperate, terrified tears.

I shake my head. “That wasn’t her doing. She?—”

“Sawyer…”

She whispers with her frightened eyes aimed over my shoulder. I follow her gaze to find two Dregs, the two whose attention we caught when we walked in.

I recognize them. One—the one with his head tilted as he eyes up Liberty—is a guy named Foster. He was mostly quiet for my time here, but he’s always been fully dressed and I’ve never seen him messed with. He’s no doubt violent.

The other guy is called ‘ratface’ among the Dregs. From what I understand, he’s been here a very long time, surviving off the information he gives the Keepers. His only clothing is a pair of ripped black slacks rolled up to his shins and a red stocking capthat matches the blood dribbled down his chin from the meal he just had.

I don’t know which one is worse. They each have me retreating a step, my foot splashing in a shallow puddle. I look down at my shoe while my head flashes with information, any that could be useful.

Think.

Fuck, Sawyer,think.

Liberty’s shoulder brushes my back as she slips behind me. “Sawyer.”

“Look who’s back,” Ratface chimes with the high-pitched laugh of a child tapping a turtle out of its shell. “What happened? Did you bore the Head Keeper?”

Ratface seems interested in me while Foster’s eyes stay pinned on Liberty. When I shuffle, more water splashes, and finally, something occurs to me.

“Hemp,” I realize aloud.

Liberty shakes her shake. “What?”

“The rope,” I whisper as I turn. “Hemp expands in water. The fibers stretch.”

She just blinks at me. I glance at Foster and Ratface before hurrying to whisper in Liberty’s ear. “Soak the rope in the puddle, wait until you feel the knot loosen, thenslowlyrotate your wrists. Count to thirty before you give it a good jerk. You should be able to get a hand free.”

She goes to crouch until I hiss her name. She stares with a doe-like gaze that belongs to someone else.

“Go for the eyes.”

“Who’s your friend?” Foster stops maybe five feet away. Liberty shifts further behind me before slinking to the puddle.

Finally, I face the men. Ratface stands close enough that I can smell the human flesh on his breath. My stomach rolls.