other senses, facing the source of that weeping. It wasn’t coming from her own three-by-three cage, but it also wasn’t very far. A neighboring cage, perhaps? A fellow prisoner? The girl from earlier?
Lord knew, she felt like crying too. “Hello,” she said quietly, unsure what the surveillance and monitoring situation was. Was the room bugged? Electricity wasn’t required to work surveillance equipment.
The crying cut off as if Jules had flipped a switch. Ever so slowly, that metal scrape came again, and she could isolate that noise behind her. Two prisoners? A chill skittered up her spine. She turned around. “Hello?”
Scrape.
She took a step toward that noise. “Anyone there? I’m here to help.” Well, she had been here to help. Now she needed help. But no need to quibble over little details. “Hello?”
Scrape. Like iron rubbing against concrete.
She reached the opposite end of the cage, closest to the sound. “Come on, amigo . Help a girl out here. I’m really scared, and I could use some comfort.” She injected a tremulous note in her voice. “Please talk to me.”
“I’m scared too.”
The whispered voice was thin and reedy, and she could identify it as almost certainly belonging to the teenager she’d helped before. Jules whipped around again and grabbed on to the bars of her cage. “Who’s there?”
A sniffle came from the darkness. “My name’s Carrie.”
Jules instinctively dropped to a crouch, as if to make herself appear less threatening, even though she couldn’t see more than a foot in front of her face and she assumed the girl couldn’t either. She adopted the same coaxing tone she used to bring people out of their attics and bomb shelters. Trust me, sir, I’m here to help . I’ll take you somewhere safe. “Hi, Carrie. I’m Jules. You don’t have to be scared. I’ll help you.”
“I’m so sorry you’re here. It’s all my fault. I was supposed to escape, and I couldn’t even do that right.” Her voice dropped, filled with self-loathing. “Now everyone’s going to die.”
“Not if I can help it,” Jules said firmly. “How old are you, Carrie?”
“Seventeen.”
Jules readjusted her mental impression of the teen. Her fragility had been misleading. Really, she was barely a handful of years younger than herself. “Okay. Listen, no one’s going to die. Everything will be all right.” Sometimes reiteration helped not only the listener, but the speaker as well.
“I don’t believe you.”
I barely believe me. She inched closer to the bars and the girl. “Are you alone here, Carrie?”
“Sheila used to be in your cage. That’s the lady who bit me before you killed her.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. She’d turned,” Carrie said flatly. “A while ago. I’ve been scared of her biting me for weeks. I only wish you could have killed her before she did that.”
Jules recalled the moment of clarity she’d thought she’d seen in the Shadow’s eyes, and shuddered. Speaking of which… “How’s your wound?”
“They slapped a bandage on it.” Bitterness bit her words off. “Who knows.”
“You sound more lucid.”
“They had just shot me up with something before I ran. I’m not usually that out of it. I’m so sorry.”
“Stop apologizing. We’ll figure things out.” Jules took a deep breath, thinking. The incubation period before the Illness would start was about a week, which meant they had that long to get the girl out.
She’s probably already dead meat.
Jules had never heard of a person who had survived a bite. But she wasn’t about to give up until Carrie was dead or turned.
A loud moan preceded another scrape. “Is someone else here, Carrie? Who’s making that noise?”
“That’s Erik. I hope he’s coming to. It sounds like he is, at least. They must have tranqed him hard.”
Blood rushed through her ears. “What did you say his name was?”
“Erik.”
“His full name.”
“I don’t know. He’s just
Lord knew, she felt like crying too. “Hello,” she said quietly, unsure what the surveillance and monitoring situation was. Was the room bugged? Electricity wasn’t required to work surveillance equipment.
The crying cut off as if Jules had flipped a switch. Ever so slowly, that metal scrape came again, and she could isolate that noise behind her. Two prisoners? A chill skittered up her spine. She turned around. “Hello?”
Scrape.
She took a step toward that noise. “Anyone there? I’m here to help.” Well, she had been here to help. Now she needed help. But no need to quibble over little details. “Hello?”
Scrape. Like iron rubbing against concrete.
She reached the opposite end of the cage, closest to the sound. “Come on, amigo . Help a girl out here. I’m really scared, and I could use some comfort.” She injected a tremulous note in her voice. “Please talk to me.”
“I’m scared too.”
The whispered voice was thin and reedy, and she could identify it as almost certainly belonging to the teenager she’d helped before. Jules whipped around again and grabbed on to the bars of her cage. “Who’s there?”
A sniffle came from the darkness. “My name’s Carrie.”
Jules instinctively dropped to a crouch, as if to make herself appear less threatening, even though she couldn’t see more than a foot in front of her face and she assumed the girl couldn’t either. She adopted the same coaxing tone she used to bring people out of their attics and bomb shelters. Trust me, sir, I’m here to help . I’ll take you somewhere safe. “Hi, Carrie. I’m Jules. You don’t have to be scared. I’ll help you.”
“I’m so sorry you’re here. It’s all my fault. I was supposed to escape, and I couldn’t even do that right.” Her voice dropped, filled with self-loathing. “Now everyone’s going to die.”
“Not if I can help it,” Jules said firmly. “How old are you, Carrie?”
“Seventeen.”
Jules readjusted her mental impression of the teen. Her fragility had been misleading. Really, she was barely a handful of years younger than herself. “Okay. Listen, no one’s going to die. Everything will be all right.” Sometimes reiteration helped not only the listener, but the speaker as well.
“I don’t believe you.”
I barely believe me. She inched closer to the bars and the girl. “Are you alone here, Carrie?”
“Sheila used to be in your cage. That’s the lady who bit me before you killed her.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. She’d turned,” Carrie said flatly. “A while ago. I’ve been scared of her biting me for weeks. I only wish you could have killed her before she did that.”
Jules recalled the moment of clarity she’d thought she’d seen in the Shadow’s eyes, and shuddered. Speaking of which… “How’s your wound?”
“They slapped a bandage on it.” Bitterness bit her words off. “Who knows.”
“You sound more lucid.”
“They had just shot me up with something before I ran. I’m not usually that out of it. I’m so sorry.”
“Stop apologizing. We’ll figure things out.” Jules took a deep breath, thinking. The incubation period before the Illness would start was about a week, which meant they had that long to get the girl out.
She’s probably already dead meat.
Jules had never heard of a person who had survived a bite. But she wasn’t about to give up until Carrie was dead or turned.
A loud moan preceded another scrape. “Is someone else here, Carrie? Who’s making that noise?”
“That’s Erik. I hope he’s coming to. It sounds like he is, at least. They must have tranqed him hard.”
Blood rushed through her ears. “What did you say his name was?”
“Erik.”
“His full name.”
“I don’t know. He’s just
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