Chapter 7 Three Years in the Cage

Grace's POV

The cold pack Isabel gave me helped. The pills made my arm hurt less. But I still could not sleep.

Sometime after the lights dimmed further, the side door opened again. Two techs in gray coats came in pushing a cart.

They were not Isabel. These two looked bored and tired. They moved from person to person checking monitors and writing numbers on their tablets.

I kept my eyes half closed and watched them through my lashes.

They stopped near the middle of the room. One of them spoke in a low voice, but the pens were quiet enough that the words echoed towards me.

“The director's numbers are getting worse. His liver is not working as well as it should, and it’s getting worse faster than we thought.”

The second tech made a quiet sound.

“Roxburgh still thinks the serum will fix it in time.”

“He’s ordered the matching process to be sped up. They want the priority subjects to be moved into active trials within the week.”

“That Sinclair girl is at the top of the list now. Her sample was cleaner than anything they have seen in months.”

A cold feeling settled in my stomach. I forced myself not to move.

The first tech lowered his voice even more.

“If the director collapses before they stabilize the formula, this whole level goes into lockdown. Nobody wants that.”

They finished their checks and pushed the cart toward the door. The lock clicked shut behind them.

I lay still for a long time after they left.

ROXBURGH.

That was the name Isabel had mentioned on the radio my first night. The director. He was sick. Dying, maybe. And whatever they wanted from my blood was supposed to save him.

They were going to speed everything up.

I turned my face toward the wall and tried to steady my breathing. Across the pens, I could see the shape of Julian sitting in the dark, still hurt from the cut.

The medics had brought him back not long ago, with bandages covering his wounds.

I wanted to cross the room to tell him what I had heard and have someone else share the burden with me, but I decided to stay on my mat, trying not to move.

☾𖤓☽ ───────── ☾𖤓☽

Morning came with the usual buzzer and the smell of the same dry food.

I was sitting against the wall trying to force down another protein bar when a girl I had not spoken to before sat down beside me.

She was thin, with pale skin and dark circles under her eyes that looked permanent. Her hands trembled a little even when she rested them on her knees.

“You’re Grace,” she said. Her voice was soft and rough at the same time. “The new priority.”

I nodded once.

“I’m Nora.” She glanced around to see who was close.

“I’ve been here longer than most. "I have been here long enough to receive the early doses.”

I looked at her more carefully. The whites of her eyes had a faint yellow tint. A small patch of skin on her neck looked darker than the rest, like a bruise that never healed.

“What did they do to you?” I asked.

“They call it sensitization. Small amounts of the serum to prepare the body. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it starts breaking things inside you.”

She gave a weak smile.

“I’m one of the ones it broke."

My stomach tightened. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you’re next. I heard the techs last night the same as you did." Nora leaned a little closer.

“When they start the real trials, don’t trust the first things they say. The serum doesn’t just change your blood. It changes how you see people. How you need them. Some of us forget who we were before.”

I stared at her. “Is that happening to you?”

“Some days.” She looked down at her shaking hands.

“Other days I still remember. That’s why I’m talking to you. Find people who will pull you back if it starts. Hold on to them. The ones who go through it alone don’t come out the same.”

A guard suddenly shouted, “Combat group! Line up! Move!”

Nora stood slowly, her body stiff and sore. She winced as she straightened her aching joints.

“Move!” another guard yelled, banging his baton against the metal bars.

“One more thing,” she said. “The boy with the scar over his eye. The one you keep looking at.

He has history with the early trials. Be careful how much you lean on him. They already used him once.”

Nora forced herself into line, keeping her head down as the guards marched back and forth, barking orders.

I sat there with the half-eaten protein bar in my hand and her words sitting heavy in my chest. Across the room Julian moved into line with the others.

Nora’s warning stayed in my ears long after she was gone.

I waited on my mat, watching the time crawl by. The guards came and went, shouting orders and checking the pens. I kept my head down and stayed quiet, waiting.

The minutes stretched into what felt like hours before I finally heard footsteps coming down the corridor.

The combat group was coming back from their morning drills.

Julian walked in with the others. He still moved like his ribs hurt. When the guards left, I stood up and walked toward him before I could talk myself out of it.

He saw me coming and turned toward the wall like he might ignore me again. I stopped close to him and waited, making it clear that I wanted him to look at me.

“We need to talk,” I said.

"No, we don’t.”

“Nora told me you were part of the early trials.”

His eyes flicked to mine and then away. For a second the blank look slipped. He glanced at the nearest camera and then at the people around us. Most of them were too tired or too hurt to pay attention.

He spoke in a low voice. “Not here.”

“Then where? There is nowhere else.”

Julian was quiet for a long moment. Finally he let out a slow breath and turned so his back was partly to the room.

“They took me three years ago,” he said.

“A week after your family left the old neighborhood. My parents tried to hide me, but it didn't work. They told me you had all died in a fire, and I believed them for a long time.”

His words hit me like a slap. “My parents lied to me too. They said you died in a car accident.”

He gave a short, bitter laugh. “They made up a story because it was easier than telling the truth.”

“What truth?”

“Both our families were already part of this. The Project had been watching us since we were kids.” He looked straight at me.

“Your parents tried to escape. Mine tried to make a deal. Neither one could win.”

I felt my hands curl into fists. “Why didn’t you tell me last night?”

“Because knowing doesn’t help you. It just makes the walls feel closer.” His voice dropped even lower.

“I was one of the first test groups for the serum. Most of the others from that round are dead or worse. They kept me because I survived it. That doesn’t make me safe to be around. It makes me useful to them.”

I shook my head. “I’m not staying away from you.”

“You should.” He pushed off the wall and stepped back. The blank look settled over his face again.

“I mean it, Grace. Whatever we were before, it can’t matter here. Caring about me will get you used against me. Or worse.”

He gave me one last look, then turned away and walked off like he couldn’t stand the sight of me.

I stood there in the middle of the pens with the weight of his words pressing down on me. Three years. He had been down here three years while I had gone to school and eaten dinner and lived a normal life built on lies.