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“What happened to the other brother?” The man behind the desk tapped a port screen in front of him. “We have... Heath in a cell already.”

“He didn’t make it,” said the soldier.

Octavia’s eyes widened. She stared at him. “Are you talking about Jude? What the hell have you done to him?”

The soldier grinned. “Were you hot for him? Bad luck, sweetheart. He wasn’t as hardy as the other one. He stopped breathing after he’d gone a few rounds with my colleagues. They thought about reviving him, but then figured one less Ember brother in the world is a good thing. They slung him into a death pit. He’ll be fly food by now.”

Octavia bit down on a sob. Jude couldn’t be dead. “I don’t believe you.”

“You can believe what you like,” said the soldier. “You don’t see him here, do you?”

Octavia glanced around the room. It was a soulless, gray box. Other than the two soldiers who’d been in the truck with her, there was no one else there.

“You’re all alone,” said the soldier.

“I won’t be for long,” she said. The others back at the base would know what was going on. They wouldn’t abandon them.

“Hold on! I do know you.” The soldier by the door walked closer, his eyes narrowed. “It’s your voice. It’s so unusual.”

“You’re mistaken.” Octavia swallowed the fear creeping up her throat. She should have kept her mouth shut.

“Fuck me sideways.” The soldier shook his head and grinned. “You run that radio station, Flame.”

The soldier with the acne scars stared at her. “You’re frickin’ kidding me. This is the little bitch who passes on all the information about us? She’s working with the Ember brothers?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Octavia.

“It is you. I have to admit, although I hate your fucking traitorous guts, I love the music you play.”

Octavia glared at him. “I don’t play it for you.”

“Suit yourself. This is a bonus. The boss will be delighted. We finally ended this bitch’s reign.”

“Does this change what you want done with her?” asked the man behind the desk, a bored expression on his face.

“We need to inform the commander,” said the soldier with the acne scars. “He might be interested.”

“We could get a promotion out of this.”

“Cell fifteen is empty and ready if you want to take her there,” said the man behind the desk. “It’s just been hosed down.”

“Let’s move, dancing queen.” The acne-scarred soldier shoved her again.

Octavia couldn’t concentrate as they hauled her along a plain white corridor. Jude couldn’t be dead. She wouldn’t believe it.

Maybe they were lying and Jude was in one of the cells. She clung to that hope as they stopped outside a door. Once unlocked, the soldier with the acne scars pushed her inside.

“Enjoy your new home,” he said as he freed her hands from the restraints. “We’ll be back for you real soon.”

As soon as the door was locked, Octavia searched every inch, looking for a way out. There were no cracks or weaknesses in the wall, no window to get through, and no hinges on the inside of the door. She tugged at the metal grill on the door until her nails snapped, but it wouldn’t budge.

She had to get out. She needed to find Jude and make sure he was okay. Pounding her fist against the door, she stopped and held her ear against it, straining to see if she could hear anyone. She heard nothing.

“Jude. Heath. Malachi. Are any of you in here?”

There was no response to her shouts.

The coldness from the stone floor and walls seeped into Octavia’s bones. She turned slowly, staring at each wall, willing there to be a way she could get out. But there wasn’t. She was alone.