Nightfire Warriors (Remastered)

26.

Solitary confinement at Seeker Headquarters is a small rectangular room with a ceiling eight-feet high. The bed is just a mattress, and a bowl is a bathroom, already overflowing from my terrible waste. And it's pointless to blast my way out. A shield in these dungeons radiates and absorbs the energy from my triple helix in my bloodstream, neutralizing all genetic abilities. Once I step out of the room, my triple helix will heal independently, though not immediately.

The Seeker urgently tells me it's time to leave. I'm not sure what the time of day is. It's either breakfast time, or I'll see moonlight for the first time in seventy-two hours. Solitary can screw with someone's head. These thoughts I'm having are enough to drive a person crazy. Perhaps I already am.

I sit up from the mattress, reactionless to the set of handcuffs the Seeker pulls out of his robes. Even though I'm clueless about what's happening, I assume my wrists into the position anyway. The cuffs lock into place, and the Seeker escorts me out of the cell. These restraints have sensitive censors. Meaning if I use my genetic abilities, I'll only hurt myself. I'm too drained to be starting any kind of argument, and I subconsciously follow orders. Besides, most likely, the Seeker doesn't know any more than I do. He's a random person picked to achieve such a simple task.

I slowly sort out the possibilities of what's going to happen next. If there's a hearing for Frankie's death, I'm entitled to be there. Are they taking me to prison? Does this mean I'm eliminated from the tournament? I admittedly don't remember what I did.

I'm startled when the doors open with a swoosh. The Seeker leads me into a teleportation room. Warp gates are everywhere. All of them massive in size. After the Seeker turns one of them on, the Seeker demands I step through next. I'm about to step through a warp gate and oblivious to what my drop-off location will be. I wouldn't say I'm panicked.

When teleporting through a massive ring like this, there's a strong wind, like a soundless roar that fills my ears. I step through and find myself standing on a different platform in a completely different room. The Seeker arrives with me, stepping out of the wind of water as the vortex disappears behind us.

I gulp and step off the platform to meet my fate. There's no doubt in my mind we are on the Athena. It's massive enough to have a room full of coffins—the cryogenics chamber. Two are occupied. One has a boy about twenty years old with blond, spiky hair. His eyes are closed, frozen in a deep sleep, covered in icicles and white frost. It's Justin! Whatever happened to him before he froze must have been willing. I don't think he was forced in there like I know I'm about to be.

The Seeker opens up one of the coffins. A gush of trapped, cold steam evaporates into the air. I somehow assure myself that they're not going to kill me. Seeing Justin helps. After laying down inside, the Seeker unlocks my handcuffs, leaving dark red bruises around my wrists like burns. Once the door closes over me, cold steam fills the claustrophobic space. My entire body goes numb from excruciating pain. Then, I can swear, molding hot flames burn my body to a crisp before everything goes black.

When I wake up, it's hard to remember what happened in the last couple of hours, like waking up from a strange dream and connecting the pieces. Bit by bit, it comes back to me.

Where, in God's name, did they take me? The only furniture in this one-hundred-square-foot room with me is a bed, a sink, and the cryogenic chamber I woke up in. The door, which is made entirely out of steel hinges, is my only way out. No doorknob. No keyhole. Worst case scenario, they've taken me to prison with no contact with the outside world.

So, they keep me in custody at Headquarters, and then they put me in a cryogenic, and now I've woken up somewhere. God knows how many years into the future, considering the last time I was in one, I missed three days of my life. I think I'm going to be sick. My stomach turns into sharp, painful knots, and I prepare myself for a hurl. Please, oh please, tell me they're going to take me out of this room soon.