Shadowed

XX. Pushing Our Luck

"Goddamn," grumbles Abby, "how long is this hallway?"

We've been trudging past rows and rows of cells, hundreds of hidden doors cut into the stone, for what feels like forever. I'm trying to block out the ache in my stomach, but with every step it grows more pressing, more difficult to ignore.

 "Not too much farther now," calls Angella from ahead. We've already passed two open doors—first Drew's, and then my own. 

I squint. I can make out the form of Angella's cracked door in the distance, a slight break in the monotonous scenery of rough stone walls and dim light. Maybe she'll have food there. Maybe there's something left behind, something I didn't catch the first time I was there.

Abby heaves a sigh, falling into step beside me and Drew. "My stomach hurts," she complains.

"So does mine," I say quietly. "They never brought me anything to eat while I was trapped in there."

Drew turns, his eyes piercing mine, filled with shock and something a lot like worry. "What?"

Abby understands right away. "Is it because you're—"

I nod, almost imperceptibly, shrugging. She shoots me a small, pitying smile, which I return. 

I missed her while we were apart, I realize. Her intensity, once aggressive and startling, now feels almost like a comfort. 

And she knows me. She knows what I am. While I'm not naive enough to think that she understands, it's still nice to have her near again.

Drew doesn't seem to notice our exchange—in fact, he's turned away from us, his gaze decidedly blank and fixed on the floor.

Good. I really don't want to have to deal with him wondering. He's forgotten his curiosity from earlier, which is a blessing, because I'm in no mood to be opening myself up all over again to expose my deepest secret to the world. 

I thought I'd gotten over it, but it still feels wrong, uncomfortable to even think of telling another person. Even if it's Drew, with his pool-green eyes and brilliant smile. Drew, who looks at me and doesn't think about how I'm the one who got him into this mess, but instead is relieved that I'm okay. 

It's like the universe is screaming at me, that I have to hide that part of myself away. No matter how bad it hurts.

In this world of scrutiny and judgement and identification checks, there's no place for an ageless teenager, and I know that. Which brings me back to the question that's been hovering at the back of my mind for days now. 

Why do I exist like this?

Why would such a thing even be possible?  What singled me out, picked me to have power over death itself?

I don't know. But someone does. The Hunters wouldn't track me down for nothing. They knew my name, something I kept secret for decades. They know about me, enough, at least, to know that starvation wouldn't kill me like it would their other prisoners.

A seed of a plan is formulating in my mind. Stay behind. Get the rest of them out and to safety, but stay behind. Learn what they know. Learn what they want. 

What's the worst that could happen? They couldn't do me any real harm, unbreakable as I am. And as long as Abby, Drew, and Angella are far out of sight, they wouldn't have anything to use against me.

You're doing a perfectly good job at lying to yourself, whispers the venomous voice at the back of my mind. You have no idea what you're dealing with here. And people like this always find something to use against you.