Chapter Fourteen

Rachel had never been fond of being underground. As soon as she saw the thick stone roof of the cave, she had felt uneasy and imagined it crashing down on her. Burrowing down into some tunnels to escape a swiftly approaching military force was going to be worse.

Of course, the cyborgs didn’t care about the feelings of their weak human counterparts. The soldiers weren’t interested in either comfort or luxury. They slept on the floor of the cave, ate their food raw, and were immune to both heat and cold. Even the darkness in the rock passageways didn’t bother them. They marched forward as though they were on flat ground in broad daylight.

It wasn’t as easy for Rachel as it was for the cyborgs. She knew she was directly behind Clayton and in front of Weapon, but she didn’t know anything else. The small amount of starlight that lit the cave disappeared as soon as they descended into the mountain. Rachel kept her bound hands out in front of her as she felt around tentatively with her feet. She took exaggerated steps, lifting her front foot high and setting it down carefully. She wanted to make sure the ground was steady before she put her weight on it. Her imagination ran wild with the kinds of things they might run into here: vast caverns, deep rivers of water, or drop-offs without a bottom.

“Oof! I’m sorry!” She had run into Clayton, her hands smashing into the center of his back. He stumbled forward but didn’t fall. Rachel expected the cyborgs behind her to trip as well and create a pileup in the tunnel, but they didn’t miss a step. Somehow they were able to see when she couldn’t.

“I thought you had to have a little light for night vision to work,” she muttered grumpily, wishing she had military goggles or enhanced vision like Green Squad.

The cyborgs behind her didn’t say anything, but Clayton did. “It doesn’t take much light, but yes, you’re right. These units can access electromagnetic waves that we can’t see, though. Even if the area is pitch-black for us, the cyborgs will find a way to see what they’re doing.”

“You would think they would have given us a flashlight or something.” Rachel’s right foot slipped on a round rock on the floor of the tunnel, and she fell, landing on one knee. Weapon reached out his hand, grabbed her by the armpit, and hauled her to her feet. She didn’t bother to thank him.

“I don’t think cyborgs have concierge service programmed into them. Haven’t you figured out that they don’t care?” Clayton was trying to keep his voice to a quiet whisper, but it echoed throughout the cramped space. “If it were convenient for them, they would throw us off a cliff and continue on their merry way.”

“Be quiet back there!” called a voice from the front. Rachel didn’t need her eyes to know who it was. She could tell from the tone and content that Wrath was speaking. She shot a dirty look in his vague direction, uncertain if he could see her face through the horde of cyborg bodies standing between them. “We have a long way to go. No one has enough energy to listen to your whining the entire way.”

The tunnel seemed like it would never end. Sometimes the floor tipped up and other times it sloped down. It felt round at the bottom, as though someone had bored into the passageway with a giant drill. The curve made it harder for Rachel to walk because her feet didn’t feel flat on the ground. After a few minutes, she realized she would never be able to find her way back even if she managed to escape and had a light. Fortunately, she happened to be wearing a pair of lightweight hiking boots that were more appropriate than the heels she typically wore on assignments.

Clayton cried out in pain. Rachel had stepped on the back of Clayton’s feet again. Even though she was having a difficult time adjusting to the darkness, it seemed like he was doing worse. Rachel was continually running into him. After nearly twisting her ankle falling onto a small stalagmite, she addressed the vicious cyborg behind her. “Can you untie my hands? I can’t see anything, and I keep tripping.”

“No. You have to deal with it.” Weapon didn’t even take a moment to think about her request. Rachel guessed he would have been happy to drag her along the ground by her hair if she broke her leg and couldn’t walk under her own power any longer.

As they continued their journey, Rachel started having another problem. She began to have trouble breathing. The air seemed thicker down here than on the surface, where the sun removed all the humidity out of the environment. As she struggled to fill her lungs, she began to wonder how much oxygen was available at this depth and how much of it was being used by the beefy cyborgs. Were they leaving enough air for her to breathe, or would she suffocate to death deep below ground level?

The stars dancing in front of her eyes were almost a welcome sight compared to the complete blackness she had come to know too well. Rachel gasped as her lungs burned and her throat tightened in her quest for oxygen.

“What’s the matter with you?” Weapon growled. “Keep going.”

Rachel shook her head, uselessly grabbing at her throat as she bent over at the waist. She wanted to reach inside her body and rip her throat open. “I can’t move. I can’t breathe.”

“You’re fine. Let’s go.”

All the energy was slowly draining from her body. Her muscles relaxed against her will and refused to support her weight. Rachel fell to her knees on the sharp rocks of the tunnel floor. She felt like the shaft had already collapsed and crushed her.

She was vaguely aware of Weapon calling to Wrath and the formation of cyborgs stopping around her. For once, the reporter was grateful that she couldn’t see anything. It spared her from seeing any angry looks. The cloud that was beginning to fog her mind muffled their voices as well.

“She says she can’t breathe. She’s probably faking it. It’s part of their plan.” Rachel knew Weapon was speaking. He hadn’t even bothered to help her back onto her feet.

“Did you check her pulse? Does she have clammy skin? Our medic would know more. Too bad he’s dead.” Rachel could feel Wrath’s rough hands probe her body as he felt her wrist, pulled back her eyelids, and listened to her lungs. Though his skin was coarse, he handled her carefully.

In the darkness, it was easy for Rachel to imagine he was not a cyborg at all. Instead, she envisioned him as Robert, grown into a gentleman. In her delirium, Robert briefly checked her over before lifting her into his arms and carrying her through the cave until they emerged on the surface. There, he told her about his true feelings for her. She would escape with Robert into the desert, putting their pasts behind them and living their lives together.

Instead, water splashed over her face, dripping into her nostrils and mouth and making her choke. Wrath let her recuperate for a moment before pulling her upright. “She’s going to be okay. She’s just panicking. Carry her if you have to, but keep moving.”

His hands vanished as he left her and squeezed his way back to the point position. Weapon prodded her impatiently, and she stumbled forward again. It was harder to walk now that she had succumbed to her fear and anxiety. Completely exhausted, Rachel no longer stepped carefully or worried about falling. She didn’t have the energy to do anything other than make forward progress. Even that was proving to be a challenge.

The impatient sounds from the cyborg behind her grew louder each time she paused or fell. Weapon became increasingly violent the more he pulled Rachel to her feet. She felt like a rag doll in his hands, propped up and only able to stay that way for a limited time before her soft insides collapsed on themselves again.

With a grunt of frustration, Weapon grabbed the girl’s elbow and spun her around, forcing her to look at his face. He slung her over his shoulder, leaving her arms and legs dangling as he trudged forward through the tunnel. Unlike the reporter, he had no problem finding his way or keeping stable footing.

Rachel could feel tight muscles through the cyborg’s clothing. He held her in place with a tight grip around her thigh. “You don’t have to do this. I can walk,” Rachel mumbled.

“I’m tired of tripping over you.” His fingers dug into her flesh a little more.

Rachel bit back a yelp, knowing that acknowledging her fear might encourage him. The scarred soldier had even less regard for humans than Wrath. She relaxed her body as much as possible and tried to be grateful for a break.