“I’ll take her from here,” he replies. “Go inside and start calling the assembly.”
“Yeah, sure.” The two guards let go of me and head inside without a word.
The handsome man waits for them to go, then retrieves some kind of black belt from his pocket. With a metal ring attached to the front, it looks kinda like-
Fuck me, it’s a collar. As in, for an animal. Instead of having holes and a buckle, the band features two halves of a thick, metal locking clasp, with a small slit for a key on one end. At the center of the thick band there’s a small gray box with a faint, blinking green light.
“Stand still,” he says, lurching toward me. I try to flinch away, but he moves fast, and I’m still hobbled by all the cuffs and chains.
“I said, stand still!” he barks, attempting to wrap the collar around my neck. Snapping closed tightly, it makes some kind of electronic whine.
“What’s that?” I murmur through the gag, coughing as my throat burns.
As if in answer, Reed pulls out a small, black remote and holds it up. The plastic square only has one button; when he thumbs it, a jolt fires through my neck like a scalpel driven into my spine. Shrieking, I shake in my chains, trying to rid myself of the alien agony.
“That one was a warning. Do what you’re told at all times, or you’ll get more. Understand?”
My brain feels scrambled, and a rush of adrenaline fuels my terror. “Y-yes,” I mumble.
He sets one hand on my shoulder and lifts my chin with the other, forcing me to look into his eyes. Mercifully, he removes my gag and tosses it aside, but nothing in his steely, brutal expression says he did it for my comfort.
“Quinn Harris, my name is Reed Nolan. I know what you did and why you’re here. My job is to make you suffer through every minute of your residency. What you’re going to learn very quickly is that I love my job.”
He reaches behind his back and pulls from his waistband a gun-shaped device. I try to pull away, but he sticks it against my neck and squeezes the trigger.
I scream, though I feel only a slight twinge of pain — nothing compared to the shock collar. My heart pounds in my chest, though, fearful of what comes next.
“What was that?” I ask. “Did you just drug me?”
“No. I implanted a subcutaneous tracking device. If you get more than a mile away from here without having it removed, it’ll rupture and you will have a seriously bad fucking day.”
“Bullshit.”
With a laugh, he spins me around by my shoulders so I face out the prison gate. “You want to find out? Take a walk. I’ll come pick you up in a few hours — I know roughly where you’ll be.”
His lips curl into a nasty grin, the first from him I’ve seen, and my jaw hangs open. How can someone so despicable be so damn attractive?
Maybe he’s aware of the effect he’s having on me, because his smile grows a little wider.
“Fine,” I grumble, turning back to the prison. As tempted as I am to run, I doubt he’s bluffing about the implant; and, with most of my body still restrained, I wouldn’t get very far, especially since I don’t really know where I am.
“Then let’s go,” he says, grabbing my forearm. “The assembly’s waiting.”
An assembly?
I’d ask, but I know I’ll find out soon enough.
Electric doors buzz as Reed and I are let in the security checkpoint. I don’t know what sort of intake processing is typical of this place, but we don’t do any. Reed guides me through an x-ray, which we both set off; as we pass, I see a small, padlocked cage full of cell phones. We then head down a long, bland corridor bathed in fluorescent light.
Passing through the secure door at the end of the hall feels like going through a portal: whatever part of the building we’ve reached, it’s been designed to produce an entirely different atmosphere: instead of the claustrophobic, spartan utility of the previous area, this one looks like the inside of Jonah’s pamphlet. Massive windows let in daylight, while framed photos depict prison inmates working with machines, studying from textbooks and sitting in discussion circles.
Surprised, I stop to look around. This area must be for visitors, but do they really let outsiders into a place like this? That doesn’t make sense. How could they-
Then I feel it: a hard impact against my backside. When I look to Reed, he glares back at me, closing his open palm into a fist.
“Move it.”
Did he just fucking spank me?