The Last Elementalist

Chapter 26

She lashed out at the man closest to her which she had forgotten was Wenning. She punched and kicked and thrashed until he brought out a syringe filled with a clear substance. He held her arm still and hastily inserted the liquid, leaving her paralyzed on the spot.

"No spy, huh?" he laughed cruelly. The problem was that Lielle did not know that Kayla was there. Did Connor and Evie not make it back to tell the Thrillers that Bri was here and communicating almost daily? Worry and anger and a flood of emotions filled her chest until she had to scream, but only a gurgling sound escaped from her clenched teeth as she was lifted onto a stretcher and brought back to her prison. She knew a threat when she heard one, but how exactly did these Agents plan on getting to the president and his family when they were most likely more heavily guarded than ever. Panic receded as she calmed herself with the thoughts that Connor was safe, but hysteria filled its place as she thought about the others. Whatever means of comfort she had attempted to use had absolutely no effect until she began to feel her arms again. She knew it was stupid, but she lashed out at the wall with the strongest punch she could muster in her half paralyzed state. Pain rushed through her hand upon impact with the old stones and she laid back in agony until, finally, someone came.

"That was rather dumb," the new appearance frowned as he stood over her.

"Are you the captain?" she raged. "You know I don't care what you've come to say."

"Well then good. I'm not the captain, you are." He inserted a syringe into her arm, numbed by pain, and the pain receded to a dull throb. "I'm a Healer. Let's go somewhere I can work."

He brought her to her feet as she snarled, "You don't deserve that title."

The Healer had to half drag, half carry her to a room, free of a ganaitium coating and strap her down to the bed to keep her still. He assured her that it was a small fracture that could be fixed easily and she would only need an ace bandage to keep from moving it too much afterward.

She begrudgingly allowed him to wrap her hand and then to drag her back to her room. All the way he explained that acting up would not help her survive when they finished with her. She was only a piece of trash, something that, once used, is tossed. But she refused to be a piece in their games. She refused to listen, unless there was a way to switch sides without the Agents taking notice. She had to do what was best for the majority of people, the general population of the Thunderthrillers.

"I don't care," she snapped, unable to bear anymore of his fake pity. He shoved her into the room and with a terse, "You should," he stalked away.

* * * * *

Days passed with only small meals brought every about twelve hours by a guard. She herself could see how she was rapidly thinning and losing color. She could easily count her ribs and her shirt hung off her loosely. The starving felt as if it were weeks, but she knew it could not have been one. Her trance was broken by a rough voice barking, "Have you considered if you will help freely? We found another six of your spies. Risky sending them all."

He held out a tablet against the window and she raised her eyes tiredly. Live feed from various spots in the compound showed guns aimed at six heads of Thrillers that she had hardly known, but none were Brielle. She rested her head in her knees again as the Agents pulled the trigger.

"Are there any more?" Wenning asked gruffly.

She shook her head and without thinking rasped, "I didn't know any of them were here."

He must have seen the truth in her expression because he turned on his heel and stalked away.

* * * * *

Later that day, she was woken with a sharp, "Your cursed friends are hacking our system, but I assume you would do a better job at covering your tracks."

She opened her eyes slowly, unwilling and too weak to sit up. After a minute of staring he continued. "We want to leave them in panic and nervous curiosity." He lifted a syringe and asked, "Do you know what this is, girl."

She continued her silent treatment, learning quickly that Callahan did not enjoy being ignored, and rapidly answered in such cases. Scrunching his eyebrows together, he explained, "This was recently perfected in my labs. It will turn your powers against you, clouding your vision from fantasy and reality. This can ensure that you fight with us and don't turn in the middle. Since you refused to stay still," he said ironically, as he was staring at her limp body at that second. "This will be given to you as a gas, then we can cut them off. Enjoy, Thunder. A moment later he let loose a laugh and walked away mumbling.

Everything became fuzzy as she clamped her nose and mouth shut and held in as much fresh air as possible while their poisonous purple gas flowed in. As it thickened, she sat up and fumbled with the slot in the ganaitium but almost immediately stumbled back for upon contact, the world began to tilt at dizzying angles. She doubled over and squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to rid herself of the dizziness, but only came nearer to passing out. After many minutes of fighting for fresh air, she laid down in a swoon and lost consciousness.

* * * * *

When she opened her eyes, she sat up groggily, but her head was clear of thought.

"Lielle, let's go," Callahan ordered, and with her blank mind and foggy eyes, she followed, unaware of her surroundings and her own movements.

Suddenly, only thoughts of eating filled her head, but she was not quite sure why. All she knew for sure is that she was famished, and when the feast was laid in front of her at a large conference table, she dug in, listening with certainty to her peers.