Page 60 of Red Fire

“He never hurt me,” I mutter, even though I know it’s useless.

We pass a door with the word “Infirmary” on it and more jail cells. They’re sparse, with a mattress on the floor and a folded blanket that doesn’t look very warm. In the corner is a basic stainless-steel toilet and a tiny basin.

I am ushered into a dimly lit room. There is a table and two chairs. I’m gently pushed down onto one of the chairs.

“Sit, human,” he says.

“My name is Octavia,” I tell him. “Please, can I get something to wear?” I look down at my tattered bra, the knot I tied in thestrap is holding but only just. My jeans are disgusting, with dirt and grass stains all over them. They’re torn. I’m missing the top button, but they’re managing to stay on somehow.

“Stay here,” the guard says. “Someone will be here soon to speak with you and to see to your needs.”

“Thank you,” I tell him.

The guard leaves. I note that several men in black armor are standing outside the door. There is a large mirror to my left.

“Crap,” I mutter to myself when I catch my reflection. My hair looks like a bird’s nest. I have dirt streaks on my cheek. In short, I look like a hot mess. I’m not sure what all the fuss was about and why all those men were fighting over me. They’re desperate, all right. I look around. It’s just as sparse as the jail cells out there. In front of me is a small steel table with a chair on the other side. In the center of the table is a round steel ring that has been bolted in place. I look under the steel table, and sure enough, it has been bolted to the floor as well.

It isn’t long before the door opens, and a man walks in. He’s also wearing one of those grotesque masks. He puts a T-shirt, a bottle of water, and a wrapped sandwich on the table. Together with the sandwich is a napkin and a wet wipe encased in a plastic wrapper.

“Thanks,” I say, trying to smile. “How long before someone comes to talk to me?”

“I don’t know. You eat, female,” he says as he walks out the door, which clicks shut behind me.

After pulling the shirt over my head, I drink half the bottle of water and then can’t open the sandwich quickly enough. I take a bite and groan. It’s filled with slices of rare beef. It has to be the best thing I have ever eaten. I bite into it again and start to feel guilty about Creed. Where is he? Has he been fed anything? Are they interrogating him? Are they beating him some more?

I feel ill at the thought. I shove the feelings aside. I need my strength. I haven’t eaten anything substantial in days. Not since Creed’s cabin. It feels like forever ago.

I crumple up the wrapper minutes later. The sandwich is gone. I feel so much better. Then I use the wet wipe to try to clean up, using it first on my face and then under my arms. I hope I don’t stink too badly. It seems like a lifetime ago since we washed up in that stream.

I use my fingers to brush my hair but give up. It really is a rat’s nest. I’m still busy when someone walks in. I turn back in my seat.

It’s a tall guy in the same black armor and mask as the others. I note that the masks are all slightly different. It seems like they are custom made.

He removes the mask and smooths his glossy black hair. I recognize him right away. “I’m Colonel Taro. It is good to meet you properly.” His eyes are brown. His shoulders broad. He is wearing black leather gloves.

“Where is Creed?” I ask. “I—”

“You are safe, human.”

“My name is Octavia.”

“It is good to meet you,” he repeats. “I am terribly sorry for your ordeal on our island. I must assure you that not all of our males are like the ones you encountered. You had the unfortunate bad luck of crashing on the jungle-side of our island. We had patrols searching for you but were unable to find you.” He scratches his chin. “When we saw all those males assemble in one place, we correctly assumed that you would be there. We came as soon as we could.”

“Where is Creed?”

“He is being attended to in the infirmary.”

I huff out a sigh of relief.

“Someone will be here soon to take you to your accommodation. We will let you rest and replenish before questioning you further.”

They haven’t questioned me at all. Haven’t listened to anything I have to say.

“I’m fine. I’m happy to talk now. Iwantto talk now.” I need to set the record straight as a matter of urgency.

“You’ve been through an ordeal. I must insist that you rest. A female guard will be here soon. There are staff who will see to your every need.”

“What about Creed? When can I see him?”