Turncoat: Turncoat Trilogy Book 1

Chapter 15.4

I walked back to my cell under my own power, shoved into the inky blackness of my cell. Definitely something about the glass in the door. I caught myself before I feel and a tray was shoved under the door. I took the tray and wolfed the food down quickly before planting my face in the pillow and passing out quickly. I don't know how long I slept but it was dark when I woke up, or think I woke up. Time blurred when the lights were off.

Funny thing about the human mind, if all of the stimulus around is removed and it can't find anything to focus on. When all of the thoughts are gone and there's nothing to think about, your brain will come up with ways to entertain itself. Mine decided to regal me with images of my parents, nights with Vicki, lines of codes, my friends from basic, anything it could come up with to keep entertained.

Food came sporadically, or regularly, I'm not entirely positive, but when it came I devoured it in any attempt to dull the gnawing hunger at my sides. One time I woke up and I could just make out the desk on the other side of the cell. My eyes went wide and my hands went to my mouth. I've developed night vision, I decided. I think some inkling it the back of my head told me that someone had switched the lights on extremely low so I could be brought back to normal levels without pain, but I just spent god know how long in a dark room hallucinating, I had night vision dammit.

I could just barely hear soft classical music coming from hidden speakers and filling the formerly silent room with its crescendo. A thick wad of cloth lay over top of me, enveloping me in a cocoon of warmth. I rolled onto my side and tucked my chin in, pulling the blanket up around me. I hummed along to the music as it changed in pitch and volume, even style.

Blinding white light filled my vision with a wave of excruciating pain. Hands grabbed me roughly and I struggled against them as they pulled me to my feet and dragged me from my cell. My vision still blurred, spikes of pain flying through my head. Their footsteps sounded like gunshots in the empty hallway, I could only drag my feet in protest but that did little to hinder their progress.

My head rolled to the side as I tried to lift it to see, only succeeding in spying a passing guard with their head staring at something quite interesting at their feet. A dark bag went over my head, deadening the light and alleviating some of the pain. I couldn't help but tune into everything around me. The rustle of clothes, the clunk of boots on the floor, the whirring and clicking of my legs, I could hear everything I wanted too. It was amazing. I could tell you exactly how many steps it was between my cell and the door, how many left turns, how many right, but I didn't know a thing about where I was going.

When they removed the bag, I was sitting in a chair across from Captain Otto who looked very pleased with himself. "So, Tawny, why did you and three armed resistance members, break this man out?" A picture of the man illuminated in the space between us.

I raised a questioning eyebrow at him and blinked a few times. "I really have no clue what you are talking about," I said. "I didn't break anyone out of any prison. I didn't write that code, writing that code in the supposed time frame would be impossible without the help of some kind of telepathic link into the system."

The helm, those helms had brain wave scanners and decoders to assist hackers in life or death situations when their fingers wouldn't move fast enough. No wonder I could actually do it again in an hour, my test took me six hours to complete.

"Don't lie to me Tawny, we have video of you entering that tunnel with another man," Otto said.

"No, you don't," I whispered. "Cameras were down in that subsector for routine maintenance. You have nothing that puts me there."

"She's clearly not ready yet," he said and so I was sent back to my cell for another prolonged trip in the dark. Only this time the most obnoxious whine was being blasted through speakers, without food or sleep for who knows how long. Water was slid under periodically, but that was it. I sat curled up in the corner with my fingers driven into my ears failing at keeping out the noise when everything suddenly went silent.

I don't know what was worse, the noise or the lack of it. Heat began to filter back into the room and the door opened. A woman entered with a tray in her hands. She knelt down in front of me. "Sergeant Jameson," she said softly. "Sergeant Jameson, are you hungry?"

I looked up at her cautiously. "You're not real?" I said.

"Sergeant Jameson, my name is Lieutenant Caitlyn Prat. I'm an investigative dead head, you don't have to be scared of me," she said. She set the tray down on the ground and gently touched my hand. "There is food on the tray in front of you, eat it if you want."

I nodded and she stood. "Don't worry, sergeant, you're going to be okay."

She left, leaving me alone in the warm cell. I started to pick at the food, gulping the water down in an effort to quench my burning, dry throat. Slowly the room lights came up, twice Lieutenant Prat returned with food and blankets. "Would you like the room lights down?" she asked. "I assume you are tired."

I nodded. She started to turn to leave and I reached out, grabbing her sleeve. "What is today?"

Caitlyn smiled. "It's November sixth," she said.

I heard a pair of footsteps coming from the door and the door slammed open. "Lieutenant, get away from my prisoner!" Otto snarled.