Earthquake Read Online Free PDF Page B

she laughs. She could have hidden it—not turned on the intercom—but she wants us to hear the easy, carefree sound. “Please, we could have added poison to your water and you didn’t mind drinking that, did you? We won’t kill you. You’re too important. Well,
she
is. But she needs you. So we need you too.” I close my eyes, frustration and mortification making me feel beyond weary. She would confirm that this really
is
all my fault. The Reduciates want my stupid secret. I hate myself for not knowing what it is.
    “Why you?” Logan asks, barely over a whisper. He’s looking straight at me, but the hellish woman answers anyway.
    “Maybe you should have listened to everything Tavia has been trying to tell you for the last few days.” Then there’s an audible click, and the microphone is off. The window is a mirror again.
    And Logan and I again have the illusion of being alone.
    He eyes the food. His face is pale, but I doubt it’s from hunger. Still, he’s going to need energy.
    Hating my own frail human needs, I lower myself shakily to the blanket and begin sorting through the pile of food.
    “Are you sure they won’t poison us?” Logan asks from far above me.
    “Not until they’ve gotten whatever the hell it is they need from us,” I grumble. I say us, but we both know I mean me.
    My stomach protests as I lay the food out slowly. Who knows how long they’ll wait before feeding us again? We might need to ration.
    Of course, they could just make the leftovers disappear. I don’t know what to do. I’m so hungry, I’m sure that it’s got to have been a full two days since we were brought here. At least. I briefly wonder how many more people have died of the virus while these Reduciates have been toying with us, but I tamp that thought down and file it away. It’s not something I can do anything about right now.
    Logan drops down to join me on the blanket when I hold out a piece of cheese, though he still looks nervous. “What
do
they want?” he asks, his voice so quiet I practically have to read his lips to understand him.
    “I’m not sure,” I reply in that same hushed tone. “It’s . . . a little hard to explain. There’s some kind of secret that I know—except that I don’t. I used to—ugh!” I rub at my temples, the aftereffects of the tranquilizers making my entire skull ache and buzz like someone’s playing the timpani inside it. I take a few calming breaths and try to will the pain away.
    “What kind of secret?” he asks, his eyes darting to the again-opaque glass.
    I shake my head no, hoping that we still have enough of a connection that he’ll understand that I’m telling him that they’re listening no matter how quietly we talk. “It doesn’t matter,” I say in a whisper, even though that effort feels pointless. “The thing I
need
you to understand is that if we’re going to survive this, we have to be a team. I need to be able to depend on you.”
    He looks wary, and I know I’m pushing him to his mortal limit. But like me, there’s a hidden core of strength in there. The strength of an Earthbound. Of a god. And I’m counting on it.
    “They will do anything—kill
anyone
—to get to this secret that I have. . . .” I hesitate, not wanting them to know I don’t
know
what the secret is. “The key to that secret is you,” I finally settle on. Nebulous, but enough. “So as long as we work together, we can keep each other safe.”
    “How am I the key?”
    I can’t answer that. Not even cryptically. “I’ll tell you when I can,” I say, my voice raspy around the near lie.
    The food is gone quickly and I’m feeling better—even a little overfull. I have to wonder why they fed us at all. Food is the fuel for my powers—if I were them, I’d have starved me.
    But I’m certainly not going to question my advantages.
    I rise and resume stalking the perimeter of the room, feeling much like a tiger in a zoo. What can I make to get us out of here? I lay my