Instinct: A Chess Team Adventure - By Jeremy Robinson Page 0,59
little energy that remained to look up and meet Sara’s trembling eyes, he realized the torture was not meant to loosen his or Queen’s tongues. Intimidation was the goal, and it was directed at Sara.
After finishing with King and Queen they would turn their attention to her. She would tell them anything they needed to save herself . . . and if not that, then to spare King and Queen any more pain. King’s cheeks twitched.
It would work.
Trung walked around Queen with the stun gun, flicking it off and on. A blue arc of electricity pulsed across two metal prongs, buzzing like a giant angry wasp.
Hardly intimidated, Queen flashed him a smile, her lips still encrusted with the dried blood of Trung’s dead man. She’d been shocked, the same as King, but had not screamed. With nothing more than a grunt, she’d endured the electric torture. He’d shocked her head, her breasts, her armpits and stomach. But she didn’t give in.
All her life, her expression of pain had always been delayed . . . and violent, like her father’s. If she stubbed a toe, she remained silent until the pain dissipated. Then she put her fist through the wall. If that hurt, she did it again, and again, until she couldn’t feel the pain anymore. She stored pain like a battery and only unleashed it when ready. Trung’s stun gun had filled her battery long ago. She just needed an outlet to free the charge.
The glare in Trung’s eyes said he wouldn’t give up. He clicked the stun gun off and dropped it onto a table that had been tied together from tree branches. He turned to the guard at the door and spoke briefly. The man nodded and exited quickly.
Trung paced, a grin ever-present on his face.
Things were going to go from bad to worse.
Sara’s shaky voice broke the silence of the waiting torturer and the tortured. “S-sir. If you need my help. I’ll do whatever you need. You don’t need to—”
“You would have done whatever I needed you to long ago,” Trung said without breaking stride. “But I am not finished here.” He glanced at Queen.
She met his eyes, fearless.
Trung grinned. “You are too eager for pain. It is not fitting for a woman of your . . .” He looked her up and down. “. . . form. Of course, beauty fades. Or can be remade. Perhaps you will lose your fight after you’ve lost your allure?”
The guard returned holding a long metal rod and a torch. The tip of the rod was hidden inside the flame. Trung undid his shirt and opened it up over his chest, revealing a brand in the shape of a star. A skull grinned evilly at its core. The symbol of the VPLA Death Volunteers.
“We all have them,” Trung said. “Only yours will be much more visible.”
Trung reached out and took the brand from the guard. King lifted his head. Sara gasped. Queen’s eyes twitched with rage. But she didn’t shrink back.
The glowing yellow star-and-skull brand rose up in front of Trung’s face. He inched forward holding it out straight. “Try not to move,” he said. “We want it to look nice.”
Outside the tent, men flinched at the sound of a bestial growl that emerged from the tent. It rose in volume and then turned into a roar, louder than any they’d heard before and more horrible than the ones they’d been hearing in the nighttime jungle. Like the ocean being forced through a three-inch hole, a volume of rage had been unleashed through Queen’s open mouth. The thick canopy, endless trees, and distance of miles could not hold it back.
Every living thing in the area heard the primal cry.
But Queen did not move. Her eyes remained fixed on Trung’s while the brand singed her skin, scorching a symbol that would never fade. When Trung removed the brand and stepped back, fear filled his eyes. He’d never met such a warrior. Like a tiger, she was to be respected . . . and feared. And now she bore the Death Volunteer symbol where everyone would see it. She could have been a goddess. He bowed to her, then exited, giving his men orders to shoot her when morning arrived.
TWENTY-SEVEN
ROOK LOCKED ARMS with Bishop up above and scrambled out of the pit, joining Somi and Knight. While Knight lay with his back against the wall, the others squatted in front of the entrance to the tunnel through which Knight’s captor had exited.