Total pages in book: 182
Estimated words: 171288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 856(@200wpm)___ 685(@250wpm)___ 571(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 171288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 856(@200wpm)___ 685(@250wpm)___ 571(@300wpm)
But this time no one came to her screams. The four little men crowded into the stall with her and Penny suddenly felt a sharp jab in her upper thigh.
“Ouch! What was that? What did you do?” she cried but almost at once her limbs began to feel heavy. “What did you doooo?” she repeated but this time her voice sounded like Shurla’s had—draggy and slow, like a toy whose batteries are running low.
“Don’t worry,” either Joone or Spoone said softly as they lowered her to the ground. “Your new life as a breeder for the Glorious Cause will be magnificent. You’ll see.”
Penny opened her mouth to ask what the hell they were talking about, but this time no words came out at all. She realized she was frozen—as completely frozen as Rive and Y’lla were back in the shuttle at the other end of the station.
But at least they got frozen doing what they loved, she thought irrelevantly. There’s nothing fun about being attacked by rogue Oompa-Loompas in a strange alien bathroom…
She had a moment to realize that her thoughts weren’t making much sense and then she lost the ability to think anything at all, as everything went dark.
Seventeen
V was in the box again. He spent most of his time there, since he refused to obey.
The box was a little shorter than he was tall—a rectangular prison so small he could neither stand up all the way, or sit down or even crouch—he was stuck in an almost-standing posture which made his muscles scream with fatigue after only a few minutes in the torturous position. When V was crammed into it, his broad shoulders touched the sides and his head touched the top, causing intense feelings of claustrophobia, which he fought off grimly.
It was completely dark inside, with just a few air holes near the top, by his face. V pressed his mouth and nose to the holes, trying to draw a few breaths of fresh air, though precious little filtered through. It seemed that all he could smell was his own scent, rank with a mixture of fear and fury, as he sweated out his time in the tiny, black prison.
He didn’t know how long he’d been here—wherever “here” was. He had woken up once in the middle of what looked like a Med Center unit. He’d been naked on a bed and surrounded by those fucking orange mutants. A bright light had been shining in his face and reflecting off their round, bald heads.
“Hey! What—” he’d started to say. But then someone had noticed he was awake and had stuck him with another needle, putting him out again.
The next time V had woken up, he’d been in a plain white room with no windows or doors—none that he could find, anyway. There had been a mattress on the floor and that was it for furnishings.
On the side of his neck was a flat square that felt like it was made of metal. V had explored it with his fingers—it seemed to be an implant of some kind, though what, if anything it was doing to him, he didn’t know. He wished he could get a look at the damn thing, but he couldn’t see his own neck and there were no mirrors or 3-D viewers in the blank white room to let him see himself.
But what the room had lacked in ambiance, it made up for in sound. There was a constant, steady, whispering going on which seemed to come from everywhere at once. V had tried to make out the words, but his brain didn’t want to decipher them, even though Kindred were normally excellent with languages. He only knew they annoyed the fuck out of him—made him feel like he was going crazy.
When the orange mutants came in, he attacked them. He took three of them down in one blow but they jabbed him with a needle and he was out again. The next time he woke up, was in the box. They kept him there for an hour and then let him out. He attacked them again. They jabbed him again. He woke up in the box again.
This cycle had been going on for what felt like days, though to be honest, V had lost all track of time. He was growing weary and he was damn near completely dehydrated from all the sweating in the box and the fact that he hadn’t had anything to drink in the Goddess alone knew how long, but he wasn’t one to give up a fight.
They’ll have to kill me, he thought to himself as he fought the wretched feeling that the walls of the box were closing in around him. I’ll never give up trying to escape! They’ll have to fucking kill me…
Suddenly the box opened, spilling him out onto the ground.