Outside In
Page 66
The tingling stopped, and I had control of my body. For now.
“Plus you know where she is, right? It works like a tracer?” Hank asked.
Ponife dug into the pocket of his suit. The white material creased like fabric, but crinkled like very thin metal. He pulled out a small box that resembled a hand-puter the Pop Cops had used. He opened it, displaying a miniature screen. Inserting the X into the opposite side, he pushed a few but tons. Then he showed Hank the screen.
“That’s a map of level five,” he said. “What are those numbers on the side?”
“Her vitals. To know if she tells untruths,” Ponife said.
Just when I thought my situation couldn’t get any worse, he proved me wrong.
“Can we interrogate her now?” Hank asked.
“No. She is…terrorized. You must wait until her vitals return to normal.”
“How long?”
“Depends on her.”
Hank yanked me off the floor and hustled me from the conference room. He pushed me toward Bubba Boom. I fell into his arms.
“What happened?” Bubba Boom asked, supporting me.
“She tricked you, boy. She’s spying for Jacy,” Hank said. He tossed a long thin box at Bubba Boom who caught it in midair. “Take her to the lockup. When she settles down, we’re going to have a nice long chat.” He returned to his post.
Bubba Boom looked at me with a pained expression, but he followed orders, half carrying me from the control room. Right before the doors closed, I spotted Karla Trava watching me with a smug smile.
I tried to explain to Bubba Boom. “It’s a misunderstanding. I got scared and—”
“Hank said you’re spying for Jacy.”
“You believe Hank over me?” I asked.
“Yes.” Then he didn’t say another word.
He kept a bruising grip on my upper arm. I was really sick of being manhandled all the time. We arrived in what would be Sector D5, which should contain apartments. Except the normally open hallways had barred double doors. Bubba Boom aimed that long box at the first set. He pushed a button and a click rang.
“What’s this place?” I asked as he opened the gate.
“Anne-Jade had wanted more cells because of all the Travas. The Committee agreed to convert this Sector into a brig.” Bubba Boom pointed his box to the first door on the right. It clicked open. This door was solid except for a panel about eye-level. “You’re our first guest.” He shoved me inside.
Daylights switched on as the door banged. I shot to my feet, but it was too late. There were no handles or anything on my side of the locked door. The cell was two meters wide by three meters long. A mat covered the floor near the back wall. Solid bars covered the vents. Nothing else here but a toilet.
Trapped, I experienced a sudden premonition that being kill-zapped and fed to Chomper would be a kindness in comparison to my future.
As I lay on the mat in my cell, I tugged and pulled at the loop around my neck, but it refused to budge. I doubted even Logan could remove it. Not that I could go anywhere.
There was only one thing I could do. I slid my hand into my pocket and removed Riley’s sheep pendant. Dangling it over my face, I considered my next move. Should I trigger the beacon? It would probably alert Hank. And without working computers, would Riley even know I had signaled for his help?
What if he tried to rescue me and was caught? I couldn’t risk him. Jacy needed him. But did they know Hank had been using level five as his own personal headquarters? Did they know two Outsiders had come in? Too many questions and no answers. My emotions flipped from terrified to worried and back again.
One thing I did know. I trusted Riley. He was smart and wouldn’t be as easy to catch as I had been. At least that was the reason I clung to in desperation as I pressed the sheep, sending the signal.
I waited for Hank to arrive and confiscate my pendant, but as the hours passed, I slowly relaxed. Eventually, I lost track of the time. It seemed so long ago when Bubba Boom had arrived in the infirmary around hour eight of week number 147,026. Would the Outsiders repair the Transmission and resume our journey?
The click of the lock startled me from my musings. I shoved my pendant back into my pocket as Hank and one of the Outsiders—I couldn’t tell with his helmet on—entered my tiny cell. I noted Bubba Boom’s absence. The door closed behind them. Ice-cold fear spread inside me. This would be painful.
Hank questioned me and Ponife played with the metal X. The interrogation went something like this:
Hank—”What is Jacy up to?”
Me—”I don’t know.”
Ponife (with a mechanical sounding voice)—”An untruth.” He twisted the X.
I screamed in pain.
Hank—”What is Jacy up to?”
Me—”I don’t know.”
Ponife twisted the X.
I screamed.
And so on until I lost count. Eventually, I broke and confirmed I had been spying for Jacy, and he had been attempting to bypass the Outsiders’ hold on our network. At least I retained some dignity and hadn’t said how they planned to circumvent the controls to all our life systems. Although right now I wished he hadn’t shared that with me. Not when my muscles vibrated from the repeated bouts of agony and my clothes reeked of fear. Not when I lay curled tight in a ball, wishing for a quick trip to Chomper.
Hank seemed happy with my confession and left, but Ponife remained. My terror doubled. He popped his helmet off. Terror tripled. Ponife knelt next to me. Terror headed off the scale.
“Plus you know where she is, right? It works like a tracer?” Hank asked.
Ponife dug into the pocket of his suit. The white material creased like fabric, but crinkled like very thin metal. He pulled out a small box that resembled a hand-puter the Pop Cops had used. He opened it, displaying a miniature screen. Inserting the X into the opposite side, he pushed a few but tons. Then he showed Hank the screen.
“That’s a map of level five,” he said. “What are those numbers on the side?”
“Her vitals. To know if she tells untruths,” Ponife said.
Just when I thought my situation couldn’t get any worse, he proved me wrong.
“Can we interrogate her now?” Hank asked.
“No. She is…terrorized. You must wait until her vitals return to normal.”
“How long?”
“Depends on her.”
Hank yanked me off the floor and hustled me from the conference room. He pushed me toward Bubba Boom. I fell into his arms.
“What happened?” Bubba Boom asked, supporting me.
“She tricked you, boy. She’s spying for Jacy,” Hank said. He tossed a long thin box at Bubba Boom who caught it in midair. “Take her to the lockup. When she settles down, we’re going to have a nice long chat.” He returned to his post.
Bubba Boom looked at me with a pained expression, but he followed orders, half carrying me from the control room. Right before the doors closed, I spotted Karla Trava watching me with a smug smile.
I tried to explain to Bubba Boom. “It’s a misunderstanding. I got scared and—”
“Hank said you’re spying for Jacy.”
“You believe Hank over me?” I asked.
“Yes.” Then he didn’t say another word.
He kept a bruising grip on my upper arm. I was really sick of being manhandled all the time. We arrived in what would be Sector D5, which should contain apartments. Except the normally open hallways had barred double doors. Bubba Boom aimed that long box at the first set. He pushed a button and a click rang.
“What’s this place?” I asked as he opened the gate.
“Anne-Jade had wanted more cells because of all the Travas. The Committee agreed to convert this Sector into a brig.” Bubba Boom pointed his box to the first door on the right. It clicked open. This door was solid except for a panel about eye-level. “You’re our first guest.” He shoved me inside.
Daylights switched on as the door banged. I shot to my feet, but it was too late. There were no handles or anything on my side of the locked door. The cell was two meters wide by three meters long. A mat covered the floor near the back wall. Solid bars covered the vents. Nothing else here but a toilet.
Trapped, I experienced a sudden premonition that being kill-zapped and fed to Chomper would be a kindness in comparison to my future.
As I lay on the mat in my cell, I tugged and pulled at the loop around my neck, but it refused to budge. I doubted even Logan could remove it. Not that I could go anywhere.
There was only one thing I could do. I slid my hand into my pocket and removed Riley’s sheep pendant. Dangling it over my face, I considered my next move. Should I trigger the beacon? It would probably alert Hank. And without working computers, would Riley even know I had signaled for his help?
What if he tried to rescue me and was caught? I couldn’t risk him. Jacy needed him. But did they know Hank had been using level five as his own personal headquarters? Did they know two Outsiders had come in? Too many questions and no answers. My emotions flipped from terrified to worried and back again.
One thing I did know. I trusted Riley. He was smart and wouldn’t be as easy to catch as I had been. At least that was the reason I clung to in desperation as I pressed the sheep, sending the signal.
I waited for Hank to arrive and confiscate my pendant, but as the hours passed, I slowly relaxed. Eventually, I lost track of the time. It seemed so long ago when Bubba Boom had arrived in the infirmary around hour eight of week number 147,026. Would the Outsiders repair the Transmission and resume our journey?
The click of the lock startled me from my musings. I shoved my pendant back into my pocket as Hank and one of the Outsiders—I couldn’t tell with his helmet on—entered my tiny cell. I noted Bubba Boom’s absence. The door closed behind them. Ice-cold fear spread inside me. This would be painful.
Hank questioned me and Ponife played with the metal X. The interrogation went something like this:
Hank—”What is Jacy up to?”
Me—”I don’t know.”
Ponife (with a mechanical sounding voice)—”An untruth.” He twisted the X.
I screamed in pain.
Hank—”What is Jacy up to?”
Me—”I don’t know.”
Ponife twisted the X.
I screamed.
And so on until I lost count. Eventually, I broke and confirmed I had been spying for Jacy, and he had been attempting to bypass the Outsiders’ hold on our network. At least I retained some dignity and hadn’t said how they planned to circumvent the controls to all our life systems. Although right now I wished he hadn’t shared that with me. Not when my muscles vibrated from the repeated bouts of agony and my clothes reeked of fear. Not when I lay curled tight in a ball, wishing for a quick trip to Chomper.
Hank seemed happy with my confession and left, but Ponife remained. My terror doubled. He popped his helmet off. Terror tripled. Ponife knelt next to me. Terror headed off the scale.
