Stung - By Bethany Wiggins Page 0,72
to come now,” the man in the shadows says.
“Who are you?” Bowen asks, his voice so strong he sounds healed.
“No one important. Just let the girl come to me,” Shadow Man says.
“Can I have thirty seconds to say good-bye?” Bowen asks.
There’s a long silence. “I’m feeling sympathetic today. Just don’t do anything stupid.”
Tommy’s match goes out, but another light flares overhead. The man hanging in the pipes hands a lantern to us.
Bowen opens his arms and I step into them. He rests his forehead on mine and a new knot of worry tugs tight inside of me. He’s no longer cold—his forehead is flaming hot against mine and parchment dry. “I’m pretty sure these guys are the men who run the black market, which means you’re going to the pits,” he whispers, eyes staring into mine. “I’ll come for you as soon as I can. I promise. Just … don’t give up hope. And fight to stay alive if you have to. Fight!”
A rough hand grabs my wrist and yanks me away. I reach for Bowen and catch his outstretched hand, our fingers clasping before I’m pulled away from him. Bowen’s face tightens.
“Get the Ten out of here, boys, and escort Bowen and his buddy to make sure they don’t follow us,” Shadow Man orders. Bowen and Tommy start sloshing through the muck, a group of armed men at their backs. When I can no longer hear their retreat, Arrin reappears.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” she asks, gnawing on the side of her thumb. She bites a piece of skin off and nibbles it with her front teeth.
“Are you so hungry you’re eating yourself, Fec?” answers Shadow Man.
Arrin spits and glares into the shadows. “Where’s my reward? You promised me sixteen ounces if I brought her in.” Her stomach grumbles.
The man laughs, and Arrin pulls a knife from her shorts, growling, poised to kill. The man laughs harder.
“You’ll get paid, don’t worry. But do you really think you deserve honey? For selling Fecs on the black market?” He glances at the tattoo on her hand. “And what happened to that Three you promised earlier this week?”
“That was Fiona’s fault. She got him killed in the camp,” Arrin growls.
Dumbfounded, I stare at Arrin. “You were going to sell your own brother to these people?” I ask.
Arrin rolls her eyes. “I don’t have a brother. And where’s my honey? Pay me now so I can get out of here and trade the honey for some real food.”
“The only payment you’ll be getting is the same fate as the Ten,” Shadow Man says. I swear I can hear a smile in his voice, though his face is still hidden by darkness.
Arrin gasps. “But who will get you Fecs for the pits? And what if the governor hears about this? He’s trying to get her back inside the wall.”
“Who do you think asked me to put the Ten in the pits in the first place?” Shadow Man says with a laugh. “He said use any means possible to find her. I wonder if he knew I’d use the Fec that supplies me—and him—with other Fecs. You’re going to the pit.”
Arrin’s knife trembles and falls to the ground at her feet. “The p-p-pit?” she stutters. “But I get Fecs for the governor to bleed! If he finds out you put me in the pits, he’ll kill you.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Shadow Man says with enthusiasm. The reason the governor hasn’t yet shut us down is that he is too concerned with collecting the dead bodies we provide. He won’t even know you’re there until it’s too late. Wonder what he’ll think when he opens the body bag with you in it. Best bit of irony I’ve heard since the day I learned the elite children of the country were all going to turn to beasts.” The man chuckles.
Arrin screams and tries to run, but the man in the pipes swings down like an ape and lands on her. Two more men step into the circle of light and take Tommy’s and my rifles. Others move out of the dark. They are clean, neat men, with brushed hair, wearing clean, faded clothing. They look like the type of men who used to take their kids to the park on warm afternoons or wash their cars on Saturday mornings. Until you see the guns in their hands, and their shifting eyes.
Two men stop beside me. One pulls my arms forward and fits cuffs to them. “Are you familiar