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Part of her felt as if she would double over vomit right then and there, but another part wanted to reach through those bars and yank the crazy woman’s hair, to scratch out her eyes, and rip her tongue from her mouth.

“I’ll kill you my damn self!”

I just wanted to be happy…

Vessel backed away from the door and the two women stood in silence for a moment, each glaring at the other with fists formed into tight balls. Finally, Vessel took a slow breath through her nose, held it for a moment, and released it in a slow sigh.

“Of course… you love him, don’t you? God, I forgot what it was like. The power it has.”

The anger was gone from Vessel’s face now, but Ocean still felt her own surging through her veins like a fiery poison. Her teeth ground against one another and the muscles in her shoulders felt as if the weight of the buckets was still bearing down on them.

“He tells you that you’re beautiful, doesn’t he? Calls you sweetie and honey? Touches your cheek and smiles? I remember how wonderful that used to make me feel. Like I was the only girl in the world.” Vessel’s voice was soft and distant now and she closed her eyes as if she could contain the sadness that suddenly lit in them.

“He makes you feel so special, so warm. I bet he told you about the Food Wars, didn’t he? Got all misty eyed and made you feel so sorry for him. Like you’d do anything just to keep from ever seeing that pain on his beautiful face again.”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

Ocean meant to hurl the words at the woman, to spit the venom in her soul with each syllable. Instead, they came so low and flat that she wasn’t entirely convinced she’d actually spoken.

“Oh, I’m afraid I do, honey. I know all too well. Has he kissed you, yet? No? Judging by the meat on your bones, it wouldn’t have been much longer.”

Why didn’t those words carry the joy they should have? Ocean had so often dreamed of Gauge parting his lips and slowly lowering them to meet her own, of that magic moment. Someone saying it would happen soon should have sent her whirling in a delirium of happiness. So why then, did she feel so hollow and empty inside?

“Don’t you see, girl? You’re nothing but a replacement. Spare parts. Hell, they’re down to just me now, just poor Vessel. As soon as you get a little fatter, a little healthier, you’ll be right down here with me.”

Ocean felt something hot streaming from her eyes and she blinked rapidly as her throat hitched with words. “Why… I don’t… why?

“Why does he make you fall in love? Maybe it helps ease his conscience when he finally comes ‘round to force himself on you. Maybe just to be cruel.”

“No… no.”

“Or did you mean why would he lock you away like some rabid animal? The babies, girl. For the babies.”

“For Baby? What about Baby? What does Baby have to—”

Vessel walked back toward the door again, shuffling her feet in an almost parody of a walk.

“Not Baby. He calls them all that. I guess it’s better if they don’t have names. Easier, perhaps. Does he have you taking care of it? I bet so. That way no one gets too attached.”

Levi’s voice surfaced in Ocean’s memory: we eat well around here. But only this well every few months.

She was suddenly colder than she’d ever been, even during the height of winter when the seats of her bedroom would be frosted and her breath plumed in the air. She felt numb and sick, she just wanted to be back there within the circle of cars, beneath the blue tarp, with both her parents still alive, and for all of this to have just been nothing more than a dream.

“You’ll be locked up. You’ll be raped. And when you give birth, they’ll take that child away and you can smell it, even all the way down here, and you’ll hate yourself because you know what that smell is but you’re so damn hungry your body betrays you. You salivate. You get hungrier. You try to escape into sleep, but even then it follows you into your dreams. And once the scent fades, you try to tell yourself that you never felt that way. That you couldn’t feel that way, but then the whole thing just starts all over again.

“And I want to keep this one, see? I want her to live.”

Ocean’s entire body felt as if it were tingling. Just like her legs used to when she’d sit on them for too long. She was vaguely aware that she was crying. Vessel’s hand snaked through the gap between the bars, seeming fuzzy and unreal. The woman’s palm touched the side of her face, but it didn’t really feel like her face, more like there was a thin barrier between her flesh and the woman’s hand, muting the sensation.

“I’m sorry, honey. I really am. But now do you see why you’ve got to let me out of here? Why I’ve got to get away before it’s too late?”

Ocean watched, detached, as her own hands lowered to the plank. She observed her fingers wrapping around the rough wood, barely noticing when a splinter jammed into the soft webbing between her thumb and forefinger. Funny that she couldn’t really feel that. There should have been more pain…

She saw herself lifting the piece of wood, heard the slight grating as it slid from the troughs that held either end, the slow creak as the door swung open.

Vessel was hugging her then, holding her tightly against that firm round belly and petting her hair with long strokes.

“We’ll get out of here,” she whispered. “Me and you, girl. Get out…”

Ocean nodded her head slowly, realizing there were no more tears. It was as if she’d wasted every drop of water within her body, and she wondered if she would ever be able to cry again. If she would ever want to.

“Come on, honey. Let’s go.”

Vessel put her arm around Ocean’s shoulders and gently guided her. Together, they turned away from the cell, toward the metal door that had hidden this dark secret for so long.

Ocean wasn’t surprised to see Gauge leaning against the door frame. After all, it only made sense. If there was ever a chance that she could begin to find happiness again, surely even that would be taken from her.

Any kindness she’d once thought had graced his features was gone now. His face was as blank as the concrete floor under her feet and his eyes twice as hard and cold. He studied the two women silently for a moment and then shook his head slightly.

“I told you, Ocean. I told you not to open this fucking door, didn’t I?” Gauge raised his hand and his eyes seemed to study the graceful curve of the sickle he carried, the little nicks where blade had sunk into bone. “You should have listened, sweetie. You should have listened to me.”

He took a few test swings and smiled as the tool swished through the air.

Without another word, be began to walk toward them, his weapon swinging lightly by his side.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Funny thing is, this entire time I’ve got the theme to Mission Impossible goin’ through my head, if you can believe that. I mean, I understand the importance of what I was doin’, ya know? I totally grasped the fuckin’ gravity of the situation. I was in this house to kill a woman who would otherwise go on to infect thousands. Hell, it’s hard to tell how many people she’d spread her sickness to already, dollymoppin’ around in bars the way she’d been.

But I still couldn’t get that damn song outta my mind.

Then I hear this thump from upstairs, right? And I know she’s up there somewhere. This sick, infective woman is up there in the darkness, doin’ God knows what, and I gotta get from point A to point B with her being none the wiser.