Sam and Purdue were woken by the first rays of sunlight creeping over the horizon, flooding the car with harsh yellow light. It took Sam a moment to figure out where he was and what was happening. The conversation with Sara, the challenges, Julia Rose, saving Nina, the drones… he thought. Is it even possible for all that to have happened in a single day?
"Morning," said Nina. She looked exhausted. There were bags under her eyes, and her skin was dull. She had tied up her short hair as best she could, pulling it off her face and catching most of it in an elastic band, which highlighted the haggard look on her face.
"Morning. Did you get any sleep?"
She shook her head. "I couldn't," she said. "My mind kept racing, and I just couldn't. But it's all right. It's more important for you two to sleep. It's not as if I can drive at the moment anyway." She gesticulated toward her injured ankle, now massively swollen and painful looking.
"Ouch," Sam winced. "We need to get something on that — ice or a bandage maybe?"
"Ice would be great, if you've got some," she said with a wry smile, "but in the unlikely event that you struggle to find ice in the desert, I'd settle for being able to bind it. Got anything I can use?"
"I have an idea," said Purdue. "Wait there." He climbed into the back of the vehicle. They heard a gentle ripping noise, and then he reappeared with a long strip of black material.
"Thanks." Nina accepted it gratefully and began to roll it into a cylinder, ready to apply it. "What is it, anyway?"
"A strip of the upholstery from the back," said Purdue. "Would you like some assistance?"
"I'm fine, thanks." She began wrapping the ankle, wincing slightly as she applied pressure to the swelling.
"You never did get a chance to tell us what happened," Sam said.
Nina hesitated. The injury felt like so long ago, even though it had only been a matter of hours, a day at most. She was reluctant to remember the previous day's events. But she had questions of her own, and piecing together what was actually happening would require her to make her contribution.
Bit by bit, she told Sam and Purdue about her encounter with Cody — the reasons for her running away, finding Hunter's mutilated corpse, the fall that had damaged her ankle, her return to the camp in search of help, how Cody had intercepted her just minutes before he had turned up at the teepee to arrest her.
"There are so many things I don't understand," she said, gently massaging above and below the swollen flesh. "I still don't know what happened to that guy — Hunter, did you say his name was? And I don't get why they didn't want to let me leave. I suppose they're doing something dodgy, but it's not as if I even know anything! What do they think I'm going to do? Go back to the outside world and tell them that everyone here is part of a nefarious plot to find themselves? I mean, I think they're creepy and exploitative and probably just after everyone's money, but that's not a crime, as far as I know. At least, no one cares when it's the Church of Scientology doing it. But if that's all that's going on, why do they have drones?"
Sam was suddenly rather glad that they had not yet had breakfast. Knowing that he was going to have to tell the others about the hunt made his stomach churn so violently that if there had been anything in it, he knew he would have brought it up. Haltingly he explained to Nina that there was indeed something sinister going on at the FireStorm base. He dredged up all the details he could remember regarding the hunt and shared them, holding nothing back. His words stuck in his throat as he recounted his own involvement and the memories of wielding the knife, of circling the dying man, baying like a beast as he waited his turn to slice at the prey.
He could not look at them. He did not want to see Nina's face as he described his behavior and the way that he had felt. After a moment of silence, he screwed up his courage and raised his head.
Purdue was watching him, scrutinizing him intently. Sam could read no judgment in his face, just a keen interest. He could almost hear the cogs in that finely tuned analytical mind whirring and spinning.
When he looked at Nina, he saw only anger. Her dark eyes were blazing with fury, her jaw was clenched tightly, and her slim hands were balled into fists. Her shoulders shook slightly. That's it, then, he thought. That's why I didn't fancy telling her about this. She's never going to look at me the same way again.
"Oh, Sam!" Nina lunged forward and grabbed him in a fierce hug. Startled, Sam gave a cry of alarm, but she did not slacken her grip. "How dare they?" she snarled through gritted teeth. "How fucking dare they do that to you, or to anyone? What the fuck is wrong with these people?"
"They have an agenda, Nina," Purdue said gently. "And it is increasingly evident that they will do anything to preserve and further it. What happened to Hunter would, most likely, have happened to you had you continued to resist them. Their treatment of Sam, just like their treatment of every other initiate, is simple programming."
"Programming?" Sam asked. "Like hypnotism?"
"Essentially," said Purdue. "By training people to the point where they will follow a FireStorm leader without question, they exert considerable control. The drugs in the water, the meditation that tips over into hypnotism, and the reinforcement of their message in all of Sara's little speeches… all of these things are part of their process. I would expect that sooner or later, they will also reveal that they have footage of all of these powerful people participating in a hunt, which ended in the ritual slaughter of a human being. You can imagine the power that would give them. After the death of privacy they plan to—"
"Wait." Nina stopped him in mid-sentence. "The death of privacy? What's that? Why do you know so much about this anyway — oh, why am I even asking? You know everything. Of course, you do. You always do. But you never tell us anything. You don't give me a clue what you're about to drag me into! I suppose that I should have expected it after last time, shouldn't I? I mean, after the first time someone almost gets me killed, I suppose I ought to learn, let alone a second time! This is strike three! So are you going to share? Have we reached the moment for your big reveal? Or is this not sufficiently dramatic for you?" In frustration, she slammed her fists down on the cushion of the passenger seat.
Based on what he knew of Purdue, Sam expected him to allow for a dramatic pause, and then reveal everything he knew with a smirk and a flourish. Much to his surprise, the silence that followed Nina's outburst was tense rather than anticipatory. Purdue's face was stark white, his mouth set in a hard straight line. He had only seen that look on Purdue's face once before, when the captain of the ship that had rescued them in the Antarctic had refused to abandon the survivors of the destroyer wreck. Then he had taken it for simple anger at not having his orders obeyed, but now he began to wonder whether what he was seeing was a look of hurt.
"As I have said before, Nina," he said with exaggerated precision, "I cannot talk to you when you are in this mood. I am going to see whether there is any water to be found. I suggest you two get out and walk a little before we move on. I am sure Sam will support you so that you do not damage your leg any further."
Purdue snatched a waterskin from the back, then climbed out of the car and stalked off across the sand. With a sigh and a shrug, Nina pulled herself across the seat and lowered herself to the ground, gingerly testing her ankle. She stifled a gasp as the pain kicked in, but she did not let it stop her.
"Is everything ok?" Sam asked, nodding in the direction Purdue had gone. He was trying his best to be tactful, but could not shake the feeling that it wasn't quite working.