Across the Wildlands (Book One: The Wildlands)

Episode Thirty-Three - The Prisoner

A knock at the bathroom door echoed through Alex's mind—empty of thoughts, empty of emotion. It wasn't until the polite rasp on the wood turned into a solid pounding did Alex snap out of the trance she'd been pulled into. She hadn't realized she'd been standing in the bathroom, fully dressed.

Alex's gaze tore away from the mirror, fogged with the steam from a hot shower she hadn't even taken yet. Her forehead was dotted with sweat.

"Are you ok in there?" A voice called through the door. Rollo's soft and endearing tone was unmistakable.

Opening the door, Alex welcomed the blast of cold air from the hallway. A cloud of steam billowed out over her shoulders.

The Keeper stepped forward in the doorway, a shoulder leaning against the frame.

 "How are you feeling? Do you need any help?" Rollo asked. There was sympathy to her words, but not enough that it sounded like pity.

A sigh caused Alex's lips to part. She could still taste the metallic flavor of blood on her tongue. "I don't need your help."

"I know you don't." A small smile tugged at the corner of Rollo's mouth. "I'm probably the only one that really believes you can manage things on your own."

 "No, you don't." The words left Alex's mouth so quickly, it surprised her how much they stung. Rollo's smile faded, but Alex continued on with her thought. "I'm a child in everyone's eyes. I can see it, I'm not stupid. All of that training in the bunker didn't do shit for me. Killing that man was out of pure luck."

The wrinkles between Rollo's brows deepend. "No, that's not true. You did what needed to be done. You took care of yourself when your life was on the line. I was there right after it happened. That wasn't just luck. So what if you needed help another time? We all need help every once in a while. This isn't the type of world where you can take care of yourself all on your own. You need your family, too. Your friends."

Alex clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes, playfully. "Yeah, I guess."

"You guess?" Rollo reached out and pushed Alex's shoulder. "Why are you so determined to be on your own, anyway?"

"It's not that," Alex admitted. "I just don't want to be the weakest one anymore."

"You're definitely not weak, Alex," Rollo said. "And whatever it is you're upset about with Cicero, you need to go fix that, too. I'm tired of him moping around. It's so... sad."

"He's moping?"

"Full on brooding. Please, I can't take it anymore. When he can't talk to you, he complains to me." Rollo leaned her head against the doorframe.

"What about Ace? Is he mad at me?" Alex pressed.

"Oh, he couldn't care less. Ace is more worried about you than he could ever be upset about what happened. Just as I'm sure Cicero is," Rollo said.

"I see what you did there."

"I'm good at this, aren't I?" Rollo grinned. "I can still help you if you need," she offered once more.

"I'm good, but thank you. Really. I'm sorry for freaking out earlier, and again just now."

 "Alexandra."

Oh boy, the full name.

"Never apologize to me for saying what's on your mind. If more people told the truth about what they meant, I'm sure more wars could have been avoided," Rollo said.

Alex nodded her head. "Thank you. And I promise I'll smooth things over with Cicero."

***

Sauntering down the stairs to the first floor, Alex took the time to look out over those that had gathered in the room. She twirled a finger through the wet strands of her braid and narrowed her gaze on the only person she didn't recognize—a woman standing at the far end of the room.

Alex stepped onto the main floor and paused. She'd caught the attention of everyone in the room. Not on purpose, but because she'd announced herself with a loud creak as she lifted her foot from the last stair.

She took the opportunity to point out the newcomer.

"Who's this?" Alex asked.

She wouldn't have been so informal normally, but the stranger looked like she was there to assassinate someone. The woman was standing with a carefully balanced knife between the index finger on each hand. Any more pressure and the blade would surely cut the tip off of one. Her expression was devoid of emotion, perhaps even bored.

"Alex, this is Nyx," Vida said, introducing the stranger.

Nyx was tall and slender, even more so than Brin in both aspects. Dark brown skin glowed in deep, warm tones under the lights in the room. Her black hair was tied high and tight into a perfect bun on her head.

"And what's the point of this meeting?" Alex questioned, drawing her attention from Nyx.

"It's not really a meeting." Edric scoffed. "Nyx is here to interrogate our prisoner. She's going to find out where the Achilles took our friends from the bunker."

Alex's jaw slacked open. "So, it's true? The Achilles raided the bunker?" Her gaze drifted between the others in front of her.

Surely they were all just as worried about their friends' wellbeing as she was. But, there wasn't as much of a reaction from them as she expected.

 "Unfortunately," Edric replied. He was smoking a cigarette like he hadn't had one in days.

"Well, if she's going to interrogate him about that, why not also add in a few questions about why he sent a Vagabond here to kidnap me?" Alex glanced around with curiosity, undoubtedly someone would slip up about knowing the truth to what she was hinting at.

No one said a word. No one's expression changed. Not even a twitch of an eye.

Cicero stood up from where he was sitting a few chairs over. "You realize by interrogation, he means torture, right?"

 "Yeah," Alex replied, shrugging her shoulders. "By all means, cut off his fingers. And why stop there? Why not cut off something more important, too?" She leaned forward onto the table, knuckles turning white against the weight.

Nyx gave a chuckle from across the way. "I like this one." She pointed the knife at Alex.

"You couldn't stand to watch someone get shot for breaking the Achilles' law, how would you be ok with torture?" Cicero pushed. His tone slipped into one that felt condescending.

Alex scowled. Blinking, Alex tried to erase the image from her mind of a spray of blood washing over her face. She swallowed against the metallic flavor that filled her mouth.

The table creaked as Alex leaned back, taking her weight off her hands. "We need the answer somehow, don't we? I mean, unless anyone else wants to tell me why I had to stab a man in the throat with a chair leg."

The tension was palpable.

"Ok, maybe ease up a little," Rollo whispered, leaning over to Alex.

"Alright, ok. No one is going to cut off any part of Will." Edric held up his hands and looked over at Nyx as if driving in his point a little more. "But, we really need to find out where they are. If Will sold out the bunker to the Achilles, he has to know where they took them."

Cicero kept an even gaze with Alex, neither wanting to look away first.

"Stop it," Rollo ordered.

Alex broke the staring contest at last and looked at the floor instead.

"You guys will have the chance to work this out later," Rollo continued.

"I should have known he was still going to treat me like this. I'm sorry, I lied. I won't be talking things out with him anytime soon," Alex muttered to Rollo.

She dug the toe of her boot into the floor, twisting until a small scuff appeared on the edge. The coveted gift Cicero had gotten her, not as perfect as it had been before.

Alex gave one last look around the room, her eyes dragging slowly over Ace, before she turned and left. It was clear they were going to ignore her. There was no point in staying around and trying to argue with them.