Induction, Chapter Five
Chapter Five: Secrets
Waves of tremors wrack my body, and the burn on my neck throbs. I choke on my sobs and runny nose. All I want to do is shrivel up in a ball, but I can’t move. The shackles dig into my wrists. Elizabeth is talking, trying to soothe and reassure me, but my horrified imagination of what can and will happen obliterate all hope of rescue.
They’re both right about one thing. This isn’t a game. There are no checkpoints to restart if I die. There are no extra lives like in Anita’s video games. This is real. The pain is real. The hate in Sahara’s voice is real. The threat of death is very real, as is the threat of torture.
“Mika, do you hear me? We’re going to get out of here.”
Snot and tears run down my lips and chin. “How d-do you know m-my name? I never t-told you.”
“We have a…mutual friend. It’s a ridiculously small world.”
I scoff. “I’m b-being tortured by your evil twin, and you can’t g-give me a straight answer? That’s nice.”
“You’re right. You don’t deserve stupid answers.” Without a pause she blurts out, “I know Vic.”
My head shoots up. Pain bites down my spine, making me wince. The quick movement causes the walls to blur together. I don’t believe I heard her correctly.
“Yep. Victor Jager Choi.” She laughs half-heartedly, her face contorting into a grimace. “He didn’t really win in the name game. Jager. Who names their kid that?”
“It was his grandpa’s name.” I stop myself from defending him and get back on track. “How? Is he a…ninja too?” Saying the word out loud is weird. Ninja. I’d laugh if I wasn’t going through a whole ordeal right now.
She tilts her head, eyes drifting closed. “That’s not my secret to tell.”
“So, he is?”
If there was ever a good candidate for a ninja, Vic would be one. He’s proficient in Tae Kwan Do and hapkido and various other martial arts—with trophies to prove it—and dabbles in parkour. Not to mention he’s proficient in several languages, useful for all his overseas travel. But no. He can’t be a ninja. He would have told me. No way that boy hasn’t told me he’s a ninja. This secret would be too much. I’m his best friend.
Right?
She opens her eyes to peek at me. “You figured it out. I didn’t tell you. If he ever asks. He’s been wanting to tell you for years.”
I can’t wrap my head around this. I stare at the floor yet see nothing. My head’s already exploding from the pain-building pressure. First, I discover that my childhood band members are ninjas, and now my lifelong best friend is one too? Maybe I am in a coma, and it is still July, which would explain why everything hurts—because I was in a car accident. That would make more sense than this.
“So, Devon…all the members of One Times Three are ninjas?” It’s been a while since I was obsessed with that band. For some reason, it’s easier to rationalize them being ninjas than Vic.
“Again, you figured it out for yourself. Actually, you can blame Devon for that. Please do.”
Although she’s trying to keep the situation light, the fatigue is stark in her voice. Each word strained. I glance at her. Her eyes are closed again, head resting against her arm, rotating her wrist. She almost looks peaceful, but every couple of seconds, she trembles.
“And…Sahara, she’s…”
“My sister. Twin sister.” Her voice is tight with sadness and grief.
“You really think we’re getting out of this?” I know I’ll get the same answer she’s been giving me, but I need to hear it again.
“I don’t think so. I know so.” The look she gives me sends a chill down my spine. She takes a deep breath and lets it out, muttering, “This is going to put me out of commission for a while.” Another deep breath.
My eyes widen as she heaves herself up by her wrists until the shackles restrict her. Her arms are outstretched in a T-shape. My pulse spikes as I wait, unable to look away from her. Her body trembles. The breath she’d taken pushes out through her lips. She inhales again through her nose. Her eyes lock on something across the room, determined, then her face goes blank. I want to ask, but I don’t have to.
In the blink of an eye, she lets herself drop.