Cress

Chapter 39

           Cress squeaked as she  was  spun  around. She  found  herself  staring  into 
          a  face that  was  both  handsome  and  murderous, his  eyes glowing  in  the
         light  of  the netscreen.
             "Who are you?"
            Her instinct was to  scream   but she smothered it,  choking  off the
      noise  until it was little more than  a whimper. "I-I'm  sorry  for  intruding,"
       she  said.  "I   needed  a netscreen. M-my friend is in   danger  and  I   needed
       to  send a comm and—I'm so   sorry, I promise I didn't steal anything. P-
     please don't call for the doctor. Please."
    He seemed to have stopped listening to  her,  instead   sending his   steely
   gaze around the room. He  released  her  arm  but  remained  tense and  defensive.
     He   wasn't   wearing   a    shirt,   but   he  had  bandages    around  his torso
   that   covered  him. almost as much   as she   would   have. "Where are  we? 
      What  happened?" His words were staggered and slurred.
             He  grimaced, squeezing his eyes shut, and when  he opened  them  again  it
      seemed that he couldn't quite focus on anything.
       That's when Cress's attention caught on   something    more terrifying
than  his faded scars and intimidating muscles.
He had a tattoo on his arm. It was too dark to read it, but  Cress  knew
instantly what   it   was. She'd  seen  them  in  countless  videos  and  photo-
        graphs and  documentaries hastily cobbled together. He was a Lunar special 
       operative. One  of  the queen's mutants.
  Visions  of  men  digging  their  claws  into  their  victims' chests,  looking
         their jaws around exposed throats, howling at the   moon, curled and 
   crawled  through her head.
  This time, she couldn't temper the instinct. She screamed.
His grabbed her and forced her jaw shut with his enormous hands. She
         sobbed, trembling. She was about to die. Her body would pose no   more
         resistance  to  him than a twig.
   He snarled and she could make out the sharp points of his teeth.
    "You should have killed me when   you had  the   chance," he  said,  his 
breath  hot on her face. "You turned me into this, and I  will  kill  you  before 
I become  another experiment. Do you understand me?"
    Tears began to work their way out of her lashes. Her   jaw  was   aching  
where  he held her, but she was  more afraid of what  would  happen  when
he let  go. Did   he think  she  worked  for  the  doctor? Could  it  be  that he was
       just   one   more   victim sold off to the old man? He was  Lunar, so  they  had
             that  much  in  common,  If  she could convince  him  that  they  were   allies,
maybe  she could  get  long   enough to run.  But   could  these  monsters
even be reasoned with?
"Do you understand me?"
  Her lashes fluttered, and the door behind him opened.
His moves were fast  and fluid  and   Cress's  head  spun as the   man 
  turned  and pulled her in front of  him, plastering  her  against  his  chest.
  He stumbled  as   if   he sudden  movement had made him  dizzy,  but
        caught  himself  as light spilled  into the room. A  silhouette stood  in  the 
doorway—not  the old  man, but   a guard. A Lunar guard.
Cress's   eyed  widened  with recognition. Sybil's  guard. The  pilot  in 
Sybil's  podship, who could have saved her but didn't.
The wolf operative  hissed. Cress  would   have collapsed   if  his grip
       hadn't been so firm.
Sybil had found her. Sybil was here.
Her tears began to spill over. She was trapped. She was dead.
"Take one step and I'll snap her neck!"