The Unspeakable

Chapter Thirteen

Pictured above: Sam (Nick Robinson)

(Sam's POV)

By the third week of solitary confinement I knew I couldn't stay in here much longer.

Bruises covered my arms and chest and my eye was swollen with a nasty bruise one of the guards had given me. My breath came out in short ragged breaths, and when I tried to stand I felt a wave of nausea so strong that I had to sit right back down again.

My room didn't have any windows and the only time my door opened was for my once a day meal- or when the guards wanted to beat me up for escaping all those months ago.

I knew I was dying; the lack of nourishment and oxygen was slowly killing me.

It was impossible to sleep, because then there would be the nightmares. Terrible images of Rachel and Brady, the only people I've ever loved, dying from Officials, all because of me.

The days had jumbled up in my head, I lost count; the only way I can even tell what time is it is when the guards deliver my food.

My stomach growls especially loud, but it always does that, I'm never satisfied with the tiny portions.

But for once my stomach is correct in its loud growling, because a guard knocks on my door, indicating that's it time to eat.

The pain in my stomach pushes me to try to stand.

I slide my feet down from my cot and onto the cold concrete floor, and I try to push myself up. Unsteadily I manage to get to my feet, and reach the door.

Suddenly a wave of nausea crashes over me so hard that I stumble against the door.

Taking shaky breaths I manage to knock on the door, which tells the guard to deliver the food. But instead of food coming through, the door opens to reveal a face on the other side that makes me want to slam it back in place.

Kenny stands there, in his crisp looking guard uniform, pinned with badges that he probably bought online. I, on the other hand, stand in an unclean and ripped prison uniform. Sometimes I forget that this place actually is a training compound for Unspeakables, and not an actual prison. When I first got here- months ago- they treated me to the good side of this place, but it didn't take long for me to land myself in a less severe section of the jail before.

If I wasn't so weak and dizzy I would have slammed the door in his face, or tackled him and beat that stupid look off his face. But I do neither, instead, because I'm a weak prick at the moment, another wave of nausea crashes down on me and the room temporarily goes dark.

When I regain my senses again, the door is closed and I'm on my bed, but Kenny's on the far side of the room, looking nervous for some reason.

"Get out of here," I growl, trying to sound threatening, even though I literally just fainted.

Kenny puts his hands up in a surrendering motion, "Look Sam, believe it or not- I'm here to make a deal with you."

"I don't want to hear anything," I snap, "You- you," I can't get myself too worked up, or else I might have heart attack or something, "just get out of my room."

More like cell but-

"Sam," Kenny says, his eyes big, "it's about Rachel and Brady."

This gets me moving, "What did you do to them?" I growl.

Kenny shakes his head, "I didn't do anything, and I'm not going to, but I think you should know something-,"

"What did you do!?" I scream.

"Calm down," Kenny snaps, "I didn't do anything, but- look I don't know how I can put this gently to you- they're being executed."

Despite my injuries and illness, I scramble up, a surge of adrenaline, "What happened? Why?"

"It's all over the news, they were trialed for assisting an Unspeakable," Kenny answers.

"You did this to them!" I scream, "You called the Officials on them!"

Kenny gets a sad look on his face, "I took back my report, and the Officials on the case I filed were dropped weeks ago. Believe it or not, someone else called and reported them."

I don't believe him, not for a second. No one knew about me, no one but him, Rachel, Brady, and- well Dustin. But no, Dustin wouldn't do that to Rachel. But what exactly is Kenny benefiting from telling me this, he's not exactly gloating the information to me.

Kenny looks at me, "But there's a way out of this for them," he says.

My heart gets just an ounce of hope, "What is it? I'll do anything!"

"The Officials, they released a statement, and," he turns stern, "I'm only telling you this because I don't like to see the innocent die from others crime's, honestly this should be an easy decision for you if you really care about them. Well anyways, the Officials said that the two of them well be put off the death sentence and even jail if," he turns to me, a lighting of silent victory in his eyes, "if you turn yourself in for execution."

****

(Rachel's POV)

When the guard came and unlocked my cell, I felt like dying.

He didn't have to tell me what happened, I knew right away.

Sam had turned himself in. He fell for it and the big dummy had turned himself in.

I wasn't going to die, the guards knew it. Assisting an Unspeakable is a crime, but it's never worthy of death. What the Officials didn't tell the public was that they knew Sam would turn himself in for Brady and me. I spilled the story, and it didn't take long for my parents and Brady to back it up.

He's going to die because of me.

I should have kept my fat mouth shut, I shouldn't have told them anything.

"Good news Rachel," the guard smiles, even though it doesn't reach his eyes, "you're going home!"

I want to cry, or beat my fists into the wall, but most of all I want to see Sam, "When's the sentencing for Sam?" I ask, not even bothering to stand from the ground of my cold cell.

The guard frowns, clearly annoyed my lack of appreciation for his 'good news,' "The sentencing for the Unspeakable is twentieth, Sunday."

I take in a deep breath, two days, two days to reverse what Sam thought he was doing for me.

Two days to save my brother.