Page 39 of Hell’s Weapon

Pulling out a chair, I try my best to look relaxed. He comes over, putting the supplies on the table between us, and leans back on the table in the next row.

“I just need to ask you about last night. Where were you after dark?” The question seems innocent enough.

In my room. I write before showing him the page.

“What were you doing?” The question comes out like he’s asked it a hundred times already, which maybe he has? Has he been the only one interviewing us all day? Even though he’s not said it, I know this is about the murder that occurred last night.

I read for a few hours and then I slept.

He runs a hand over the scruff on his chin before he asks the next question. “What about your roommate? Where was she?”

Uh-oh. Do I tell him she wasn’t in our room all night? Do I admit that she was hooking up with Wyatt? What if she expects me to cover for her and I don’t, or what if I tell the truth and then she lies? We will both look guilty, or at least put ourselves on the suspect list.

Deciding to go with the truth, part of it anyway, I scribble, She went out for a while.

Officer Zephyr sits a little straighter at my answer. “Do you know what she was doing?”

I swallow as I turn the notepad back so I can write on it. She was with Wyatt.

His brows knit and lines appear across his forehead as he reads my answer. I’ve only written four words but it takes him several seconds longer than what I would think he should need to read it.

A low grumble vibrates across the space between us, almost so deep it vibrates through the floor. “Thank you, Nineteen. That is all. I’ll escort you back to the gym.”

Confused by the fact that this question session seems to be ending as quickly as it started, I'm left scrambling after Officer Zephyr as he stands and pushes between the tables, heading towards the door.

I have to almost jog to keep up with his broad frame and long strides as we descend the stairs again to the workout hall on the ground floor. I try to call after him but my throat simply won’t allow it. Did I say something wrong? I don’t know why learning that Tacita was with Wyatt last night would cause this reaction. I’m completely at a loss. I wish I was able to warn her though because the excited fury emanating from the Head Guard right now is truly terrifying.

He storms back into the gym, pummelling the doors open with his fists. They nearly hit me as I trail in behind him with the way they rebound off the walls and try to slam closed on their automatic hinges.

“Ninety-Eight, you’re coming with me!” Officer Zephyr bellows into the space, causing all noise to cease immediately. It's impressive considering the gym is one of the loudest spaces with all the equipment.

Silence reigns as everyone stops to look at the hurricane that’s just exploded into the room, and a few glance at me behind him, which has me shrinking back towards the doors.

I shouldn’t have told him the truth. I should’ve told him she was with me all night. I thought the truth would safeguard her, Wyatt is her alibi, it’s not like he can’t corroborate the story. I wasn’t expecting this reaction, and still don’t understand it.

Tacita and Wyatt are still together, although they’ve put the weights away and look to be just sitting on the mats. She doesn’t bother to stand as she turns to face us. Her deep chocolate-coloured eyes connect with mine and her face tilts, silently checking if I’m okay. I give a small nod–physically I’m fine, I just hope she forgives me for accidentally unleashing whatever she’s about to get from Officer Zephyr.

“Care to ask that again, in a nicer tone this time?” She moves her gaze back to the infuriated guard as she answers. She has way more confidence than I do, her response isn’t even sarcastic or demanding, she keeps her voice level, commanding respect.

Officer Zephyr strides over to them, she and Wyatt stand but Tacita keeps her limbs loose. Wyatt, I notice, narrows his gaze and places his hands on his hips to widen his already broad posture.

“I don’t like repeating myself, Ninety-Eight, and I was perfectly clear,” Officer Zephyr growls down at her, his height meaning he is leaning over her.

“And I don’t listen to rude assholes.” There’s a collective holding of breath in the room and a few sniggers. We might be criminals but we all know Zephyr has a short fuse and he’s a powerful motherfucker.

“Hands out in front of you.” Zephyr ignores her comment. I almost feel the angry heat rolling off his body even though I’ve stayed in my position near the door.

“What?” Tacita responds.

The Head Officer slips a pair of hand-cuffs out of one of the pockets on his uniform trousers. They’re like the hand-cuffs I’ve seen plenty of, have been in many times and yet they glint an almost rose gold under the strip lighting overhead.

“Nah-ah, you’re not putting me in those. You didn’t use them on Milo to take him for whatever questions you need to ask.”

“Nineteen wasn’t a suspect in flagranting the rules and killing two contestants outside of the game time. Hands together.” I watch as the other officers in the room move. Some step to keep the rest of the group from moving closer to the confrontation, others move like they’re preparing to provide backup to Zephyr should the situation escalate further.

Tacita’s eyes fly back to me, they’re wide and a shocked expression breaks her calm facade. “What did he ask you?”

My heart beats rapidly as I look around in desperation for something to write with. Of course there’s nothing. I try to speak again but all that comes out of my mouth is my panting breaths. I try to remember the few signs she’s taught me for something useful.