Page 44 of Mindeater

“Hello!” I call out, voice cracking.

Something shifts, and the dark spot moves.

“Hello!”

The spot doubles, triples, until all I see are thousands of tiny black orbs.

The world tilts and I with it.

***

“Tell me about the mines.”

Ryx is perched at our bedroom window, one leg hanging out over the frame. He picks at the hem of his shirt while his long hair catches small traces of the breeze.

“Why?” he asks.

“You said you’d tell me.” I cross my legs and rest my hands in my lap.

He searches my face for a few seconds, clearly not wanting to. But eventually, he glances away, conceding. “It was hell,” he murmurs, fingers twitching. He cups his hands in a futile attempt to control the tremors. “It was dark. Hot. Stinky. And not just because of the oil. The piss and shit too.”

I grimace. “Why would they put children down there?”

“Because we are small,” he says easily. “And obedient. Most don’t ask questions.”

“I can’t imagine very strong, though. Isn’t it…don’t you need strength for that sort of thing?”

“We had tools. Cranks. Dynamite. Black powder. Pickaxes.”

I frown, recalling something I’d read in one of the history books. “Why not just drill it like they did before End Days?”

He snorts. “No idea. But obviously they can’t, or else they would. I think it’s a way to torture us.”

“How did you not die from the gas? Those places have gases.”

His knuckles go white. “Lots of them did die. Coughed up black shit.”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” I whisper, holding myself.

Ryx glances at me. A small, sad smile answers.

Vibrations rouse me. A steady rumble radiates through my side. I go to rub my face, but my hands don’t move. My eyes fly open. A moving, horribly bright sky is above me. The sun is no longer in the east but far in the west. It’s setting. I squirm. Where am I? It takes another few seconds to register the hog tie and the gag between my lips. It’s then I see two sets of furious eyes glaring at me.

One woman. One man. Betas.

Like me, they are tied up, but their hands are bound in the front, legs cinched at the ankles.

“Leech,” the man sneers.

“Mindeater,” the woman tacks on.

Their anger wafts off them, pouring into my senses like something tangible. My dry mouth waters, the itch behind my eye unbearable. How long has it been since I fed? A few days? A week?

“Can’t believe they took you. You’ll kill us all,” the woman growls before kicking me hard in the ribs.

I grunt.

“He’s special, Till. Didn’t you see his fancy collar?”