The Darkest Legacy (Darkest Min - Alexandra Bracken Page 0,25

I said, wondering who I was trying to reassure. “Anyone with eyes could have seen that.”

“For us,” he said, “there is no such thing as self-defense.”

“What do you mean?” When he didn’t respond, I pressed: “Who are you that you could even do that? You’re not just a student, are you? Why were you really at the speech?”

“It’s not like that,” he said quickly. “Suzume, listen—”

There was a labored groan of metal somewhere behind me. Daylight washed in, blanketing us in late-afternoon gold. My eyes watered the longer I stared at the opening, at the silhouetted figures there.

“I don’t know who the hell you are—” I called out to them.

I was cut off by the clang of metal striking metal, and a sinister hiss. Gas billowed around us, choking the small space. The door slammed shut again, a heavy lock rammed into place. The air turned sour, chemical.

“Shit,” the boy said, his words slurring. “Don’t breathe. Try not to—”

My thoughts slowed as the sensation of spinning returned. The darkness was a whirlpool that came on too quickly for me to feel afraid, or wonder if I’d ever wake up again.

“Your name,” I gasped out. “What’s your name?”

I fought against the pull of unconsciousness, bucking up against the restraints. It wasn’t right, none of this was right—I couldn’t go without knowing—

A single word reached me before the world dissolved into darkness: “Roman.”

THE NEXT TIME I SURFACED, it was to the sound of wheels against highway, muffled voices, and the loud, wet breathing of a man hovering above me.

I was flat on my back again, the thick heat baking me from all sides. The stench of hot rubber was everywhere. I was being steamed alive in my own sweat.

“Shit,” came a grumbling voice. “Fucking light…”

A joint cracked as the man rose, stepping on my shin as he moved away.

I fought to stay awake. To take in what was around me before unconsciousness crept up and pulled me back under.

The space was pitch-black, save for the narrow light attached to the top of the man’s helmet. He wore the same black uniform as the ones who had grabbed us, but his skin was as white as a ghost’s in the dark. His form took on an unnatural sheen—it was like searching the shadows of a lucid dream. The haziness of my vision made me uncertain if he was really hanging a bag of yellow liquid up beside me, or if it was a hallucination.

It wasn’t.

The light on his helmet sputtered. He knocked a fist hard against it, letting its full glow sweep down over Roman’s sleeping form. He used his boot to roll him off his back and onto his right side, facing away from me. Save for his shallow breathing, Roman didn’t move, not even as the man knelt behind him, fussing with the bag…the…

My mind struggled for the word.

Roman’s hands were bound together behind his back with a black zip tie. I couldn’t see them, but I assumed his feet were secured with a few more. My own ankles rubbed together uncomfortably, and there was a bite from something hard digging into my skin there.

As the man looked up and shone the light on it, I could see liquid drip down from the bag and glide through the thin tube that connected it to Roman. The needle in his forearm was secured with a heavy bandage of tape.

But…I squinted, waiting for the splotches of black to clear from my vision again. His and Priyanka’s IV bags were hung awkwardly from the straps on the ceiling, ones probably meant to secure shipments.

My own arm began to hurt in the same spot. There was a new, unrelenting pressure where a needle had been slipped beneath the thin layer of skin. A clear tube connected it to an IV bag on a metal stand. The first few drips of the same yellow liquid slid down the line toward my arm.

Spots of every color floated in front of my eyes, but the fresh surge of dread pushed back against the coaxing of whatever drug this was. My hands filled with hot sand as I tried to move them.

I couldn’t. My wrists were locked together. Not with zip ties, but actual handcuffs, lined with rubber. Sweat poured down over my forehead, my throat, my chest.

The drug left a rancid taste in my mouth as it seeped into my body. Within the space of two heartbeats, it became harder to focus on the sight of the man