The Dark and Hollow Places - Carrie Ryan [108]
It’s too much and I snap. Jumping to my feet, I rush the fence, slamming at it with my fists. “Shut up!” I scream at him. “You don’t deserve the air you breathe, you dirty plague bag, and I hope you all die deaths as ugly as you are!” And even though my mouth is dry, I spit at him as best I can.
The Recruiter watches me with a vicious approving smile. “You found one with fire, Conall.”
I turn away, fists clenched, knowing that my outburst only makes this more fun for them. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to breathe deeply and calm my thoughts. Dove’s sitting and watching me, her body wavering with exhaustion and pain.
She’s still fighting to stay alive and so will I. I spin back to face the Recruiters. “You have no idea what you’re messing with here,” I shout at them.
One of the Recruiters boos and throws a handful of his food at me. I wipe it from my arm, some sort of watery foul-smelling slop that makes my stomach turn.
I square my shoulders and narrow my eyes, directing every bit of hate and rage into my voice. “Are you so stupid that you don’t realize that I mean something to Catcher? He’s the one out there keeping you alive. What do you think he’s going to do when he comes back and finds me in here? What are you going to do if he finds me dead or Unconsecrated?”
My words finally seem to crack the surface and they all glance at one another before turning to Conall for guidance. He rises from his bench and walks slowly down the stairs until he’s just on the other side of the cage. “I say let him come.”
I’m so focused on the Recruiters that I don’t even notice another body slip into the room. I don’t notice him making his way along the edges of walls. It’s not until he opens his mouth that anyone realizes he’s there.
“That can be arranged,” Catcher calls out, a machete gripped tightly in his fist.
For a moment there’s silence and then my heart starts to race. A relief so pure floods my system that I’m practically dizzy. Most of the Recruiters just sit there frozen, food-filled hands raised halfway to open mouths, watching as Catcher strides toward the cage.
He looks almost calm but I can see the way his body vibrates with rage. I press my lips shut, resisting the urge to call out to him.
“You do realize your lives mean nothing, right?” I can hear the storm in his voice as he speaks. He looks impossibly menacing and for the first time I understand what he meant about there being a monster trapped inside him.
“You know that I can kill each one of you, right here, right now, and no one would care.” He looks at the Recruiters, piercing them individually with his gaze. A few of them stumble to their feet and trip over one another in their haste to leave. He doesn’t stop them.
But Conall continues to stand with arms crossed, blocking the gate to the cage. “Just because you’re immune doesn’t mean you’re invincible,” he says.
Catcher laughs, an awful sound full of bitterness and fury. “As far as you’re concerned it means I’m God.” He starts to advance on Conall with his head down, jaw clenched. “I get to decide who eats and who doesn’t. I decide who lives and dies. I’m the one who gets to pass all judgment.”
Conall opens his mouth to protest but Catcher doesn’t let him. “You want to challenge me? You want to go to Ox and tell him what’s going on here? Tell him why none of you will ever get food or supplies from the mainland again?”
“Ha!” Conall rolls his eyes, refusing to back down. “You bring supplies because of your stupid women. You can’t bring them food without bringing it for us. If you refused, we’d no longer offer them protection.”
“And what kind of protection is this?” Catcher shouts, kicking out at a bench and causing it to topple over, the old wood cracking. “You don’t think I can kill you right here? Sever your spine and leave your body for the others to clean up?”
Conall shakes