Page 45 of Mindeater

“Still. No one will buy him. No one sane, anyway,” she grumbles the last part.

I’m hyper aware of my exposed tag. Why didn’t I leave it behind? My name and rank are carved into the silver medallion. Fuck. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“What were you doing out in the Barrens, anyway?” the man asks.

I shoot him a glare and project the answer. “What does it look like? I ran.”

He jerks like I hit him.

“Fucking leech!” he roars, flailing. “Get this thing away from us!”

The truck doesn’t stop.

“Calm down, Lake,” the woman, Till, hisses.

Lake shakes his head. “It was in my thoughts. I felt it.”

I roll my eyes.

“Don’t piss it off.” She glances down at me.

They’re both dirty. Till’s honey-brown hair is tangled and hangs in clumps. Lake doesn’t appear much better. His blonde shaggy locks are plastered to his forehead with sweat. An overgrown beard covers his dusty cheeks. I’m not fond of being called it, but in this situation, I can’t say I blame them.

However, I would like to explain myself.

They both freeze as the gag lifts and unties, falling away from my lips. I free my hands and legs next.

“Don’t,” I warn, just as Till opens her mouth to scream. Lake isn’t so easily convinced.

“He esc—” I cut him off, sealing his lips closed. His eyes bulge as he tries desperately to move his mouth, bound hands flying to it.

“I said don’t.” My lungs rattle with each breath. Are we in a contaminated area? “Where are we?”

Lake keeps clawing at his lips, tearing through the skin and whimpering. Till appears equally horrified but has enough foresight not to test me. “We’re in the Barrens,” she says carefully, chest heaving with panicked breaths.

I’m starving. Craving and itching. Without thinking, I eat her panic. Lake stops trying to pry his mouth open to release a muffled scream. The woman goes lax, eyes hooded and sleepy. Good. She’ll be easier to work with. I do the same to her companion.

It’s not enough. A mere snack, but it’s better than nothing. I sigh, rub my crusty eyes, and try again. “Where are we going?”

“To their camp, I’d imagine.”

“No good,” I grunt, getting onto my knees.

Mountains are off in the distance, and a graveyard of skeletal trees litters the ground ahead. The clouds are thicker here, plump with what I can only imagine is toxic rain. Another truck drives ahead of us, the bed filled to the brim with crates and barrels. I sit back and think.

I can definitely influence the driver to take us where we need to go, but I have no clue whether Ryx is even at Ivory Hill. I don’t know if he’s alive. There’s no way I can trust these people to ask, either. I’ll have to be less direct. Find out who they are and how they got captured. Where were they going?

“Look,” I start, rubbing my temples. “This can be easy or difficult. I’m exhausted, hungry, and thirsty. I’m going to ask questions, and you will answer them, understand?”

They both nod.

I release the hold on Lake’s mouth. He wets his scraped lips. “Where are you from? Which community?”

They blink and exchange a look. “We are free. Part of the republic.”

The…what?

“Republic? You mean the rebellion.”