I stroke him gently, trying to soothe him, then set him down inside the cell.
Carefully, I stretch my legs out of the cage and edge them toward the edge of the truck. Out of the corner of my eye, I glance at Salome. There’s two of us, and two of them. Maybe we could overpower them if she helped?
But she shrinks back and avoids my gaze. She clearly has no intention of becoming the center of attention for our two tormentors.
As soon as my feet hit the ground, my legs scream in protest.
The blood, trapped too long by my twisted position, rushes back in all at once, lighting up every nerve in its path. Each fiber of my body aches from the sudden movement.
I take a deep breath and slowly start wiggling my toes, trying to get the blood flowing again and chase away the pins and needles.
We’re stopped in a clearing. The sky is gray, and scattered snow still dots the ground.
“What about the others?” I ask, concerned for their wellbeing.
“Not my problem,” Serge shrugs. “You’re the one I want. I made a deal with Anatoli for you.”
“You what?” I blurt out.
“It’s all about negotiations,” Anatoli cuts in. “Do-yun wants to keep you around as a doctor. I’d rather sell you to Bully. But Serge here wants you for himself.
So you, unlike the others, get a choice. What are you gonna do with it?”
The two men stare at me, one with a smug grin, the other with hopeful eyes.
I offer them a weak, unconvincing smirk.
“See, Serge?” Anatoli laughs. “Told you. Even with a weapon in her hand, she wouldn’t hurt a fly—
not even to save her own life. People like her are so wrapped up in their stupid morals. Especially this one—she’s spent her life caring for others. No, there’s nothing we can make of her. She’s a sheep at heart, ready to walk to the slaughter without making a sound.”
Rage floods through me like never before.
For the first time in my life, I feel a deep, visceral hatred for someone.
This man—who betrayed his people, who murdered the man I love—is mocking me and everything I stand for.
This vile, disgusting creature who sells human lives to gain a few crumbs of power!
My smile tightens into something bitter.
“Hand me your weapon, and I’ll show you just how ‘wrapped up’ I am in my morals,” I say through gritted teeth.
To my surprise, his grin widens. He pulls a gun from his belt in one hand, a knife in the other.
After weighing them both, he offers me the knife—blade first.
Clearly, he’s convinced I won’t do a thing with it. Maybe just wave it around and prove Serge right.
But he’s gone too far.
Kill or be killed—that’s the motto of their New Martian Order, right?
Fine.
I grab the handle of the knife he so kindly offered and, without another thought, lunge straight for his chest.
Oddly enough, after a brief resistance from his insulated suit, the blade sinks into his chest all the way to the hilt.
