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Tony interrupts. “If we do this right, there's a chance we could sneak in and out without being detected at all.”
“And if something goes wrong?” I ask. “We're going to need a damn good backup plan.”
“I'll have you all covered on the security cameras, and I'll have control of the gates and doors. As far as backup plans, I can get you ear pieces, armor, weapons—whatever it takes.”
“Does anyone know how to use weapons?” Six asks uncertainly.
“I can shoot,” says Jackson.
Micah holds his fists up to his face and throws a few punches into the air.
“I guess, yeah, I can shoot and fight if needed.” If anything goes wrong and they find us, I'm pretty sure we'll be fucked, but I don't want to say it out loud. They're right, we don't have any other choices if we want to get Bennet out.
“I can drive the minivan,” Lukas deadpans. The light laughter in the room breaks up some of the tension.
“If we do this right, they'll never see it coming.” Tony assures us. “It'll take me a while to get what we need and get it to you. The earliest we'd be able to move is probably 48 hours.”
Nodding, I crack my knuckles. “Enough time to make a plan then.”
Time to get down to business.
Bennet
The room is spinning. Or my head is spinning. My shallow breaths aren't giving me enough oxygen to think past the primitive need to keep breathing.
I'm not sure how long I've been in this room, but the guards have changed over five times. The last guy was through for his second round, so I’m assuming we’ve started a new day. Aside from an injection given to me when I first arrived in this room, I'm no longer deemed important enough to question or study. We've upgraded to outright torture. I haven't seen my father once since being brought down here. I’m no longer worth his time.
Either he realizes I'm not going to break, or he realizes it doesn't matter because I don't know enough to tell him anything useful.
At first, I tried to make sense of time, if only to detract from the pain. But between the long sessions of being beaten, sprayed with a high-pressure hose, and then being left in the pitch dark for hours on end…It could be days?
They have left me broken and bloody for just long enough to barely recover.
Rinse, and repeat.
It's officially messing with my mind. Once I was positive that my kneecap was shattered. I'd heard the bones crunch, and the pain was so intense I passed out. When I came to, however many hours later, my knee still hurt but it wasn't broken. It's like my pain tolerance is dwindling the more I'm exposed to it, because I would have sworn my knee was ruined. And more than once, I've been positive that they broke my ribs in multiple places.
I've lost all sense of time or purpose. At this point, I am simply a meat puppet for them to dangle from the walls and play with as they see fit. My lack of response seems to make them more brutal, but I don't have it in me to do anything anymore.
The floor is sticky, my cheek nearly glued to the tile. I was smart enough to pass out near the drain this time.
Usually any light means someone is coming, but I can't be bothered to care anymore. My last attempt at a show of strength ended in me projectile vomiting blood all over myself, the floor, and the guard who had just been making a game out of which internal organs he could find with the cattle prod.
Even attempting to readjust my body into a different position takes my breath away, which is especially unfortunate given it's already hard to breathe. Every breath feels like I'm drowning, a spray of blood accompanying every painful cough. The movement of my head and body as I cough so hard I gag sets off triggers all over my body and I vomit blood again.
The blood is thick and curdled black, and I know that my suffering will be over soon.
Six
If these alpha-hole bastards think I'm staying behind, they are sorely mistaken.
“Test me.” I challenge Micah. “Show me anything you've got. If I can't do it, I'll stay back.”
I've been arguing with them all individually about being left behind for Mission Rescue Daddy Bennet, as Jackson has been calling it.
For the last few days, I have kept up with him and Jackson while they hiked, climbed, and raced around these woods. I feel healthy and strong. I've put on weight and muscle, and I seem to be able to push my body farther than what they consider normal. There is absolutely no reason that I shouldn't help save Bennet.
Jackson comes out with fresh water bottles. We just got back from jogging five miles around the various hiking trails. I feel myself recovering even as both of them are still huffing.
