Another Kind Of Dead by Kelly Meding

here.
    Time passes in never-ending pain. At some point my bowels release, and I just don’t have the strength to care. I drift in and out, and when I’m on the edge of real sleep, the door squeals open. I wince away from the light and chilly air that moves in. Wait for … whatever.
    The door closes again, and I’m glad. I don’t want to be bothered. Only I’m not alone. Leather soles patter across the floor toward me. Fabric rustles as someone squats down close by. I don’t look. Don’t want to be hit again. Then I smell it—spicy and inviting cologne.
    “Evangeline Stone?” The strange male voice is smooth as butter, lightly accented, and oddly warm. Curious.
    I grunt, eyes still shut.
    “I’ll see that they’re all fired for this.”
    That gets my attention. I angle my head toward him and open my eyes. The most handsome grown man I’ve ever seen is hovering above me. White-blond hair is cut short, the perfect accent to his dark blue eyes. High forehead, narrow nose, sharp jaw, and wide pink lips. Just … wow.
    “Who?” I croaked.
    “The guards who did this to you, of course.” His eyebrowsarch at my confused frown. “Oh, I apologize. My name is Bastian.” He lets his navy gaze roam up and down my body, and if not for my injuries, I’d swear he was checking me out. It’s uncomfortable, but I have no strength to make him stop.
    “What do … you want?”
    “To help you,” he says, soothing.
    I’ve heard that one before, motherfucker
. And I want to say it so badly. Only my throat is raw, too sore to force out such a mouthful. So I settle for glaring at him.
    “You’ve got something special in you, Evangeline. Something I could use.”
    My nostrils flare, and I force out, “Not gonna … blow you … fuckwad.”
    Slender eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “I’d never ask such a thing from you, and I hope you can learn to believe that. You find it difficult to trust people, I understand. Do you always wish to reach for suspicion first?”
    What the hell is this guy’s deal? Strangely, I find myself shaking my head. Suspicion is all I know, and it’s my default reaction to new people. Hell, it’s often my default for old people, too. But something about this man makes me want to trust him, even if just for a few seconds. Since everything good in my life seems to last only minutes, I figure a few seconds is all I’ll manage.
    “What do you plan on doing with your life, Evangeline, when you’re free from this place?”
    I can think of a lot of things I want to do, including a few nasty ones to Terry McManus, the guy in charge of this place. Maybe a few of his favorite guards, too, like the ones Bastian seems keen on firing. Won’t tell Bastian that, though. “Run” is all I say.
    Something flickers across his face. Sadness maybe, or understanding. “What if I offered you an opportunity? A career that would give your life meaning, give you a goal, and put you among some of the most dedicated,loyal people you’ll ever meet in your life?” He is absolutely serious.
    “I’d say … you’re fucking nuts.”
    He smiles, those pink lips pulling back to expose perfect, pearly teeth. “I’ve heard worse. It isn’t an easy job, especially at first. You have to train hard for this, but in the end, you’ll be serving a higher purpose.”
    Now I know he’s insane. How did he even get in here?
    “Your release is in twenty-six days, and I promise you will live the rest of them in peace. Those girls and those guards will not bother you again, you have my word.”
    Uh-huh, yeah, and tomorrow I’ll fart rainbows
. I only nod, ready for him to be gone.
    “On the day of your release, they’ll put you on a public bus back to the city,” he continues. “Get off on Wharton Street, and I’ll meet you in the middle of the footbridge. Open area, plenty of witnesses, in case you think I plan on attacking you. We’ll talk more then.”
    I haven’t agreed to anything, but that doesn’t