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“No. Absolutely not,” I respond unequivocally. “Nothing happened in this room that wasn’t consensual.”
He pulls out a comm and reports finding me, although they’ve seen no sign of Sylas or the dog. He listens to the response in his earphone for a few seconds, acknowledges with a “Roger,” and disconnects.
Without missing a beat, he says, “We’re taking you into custody, ma’am.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Cally
Everything is a blur as I’m escorted out of the cabin by Corporal Barton and his team. Although I don’t know what they think I could possibly do to harm them, they ordered me to put my hands behind my back and then handcuffed me with a zip tie.
The tight plastic bites into my wrists, forcing me to walk with precise steps, flanked on either side by soldiers in combat gear. Fear grips me tightly, its icy fingers squeezing around my heart. I don’t know whether I’m more afraid for myself or Sylas.
For some reason, I have enough faith in humanity to believe that even the military will have enough compassion to treat Tater well and find him a good home. The thought of losing him is like a punch to the gut. He’s been my protector and traveling companion for years.
I try to steady my breathing as we make our way through the dense forest surrounding the cabin. We reach a clearing where a sleek black SUV awaits us. It’s sinister against the backdrop of nature—a stark contrast between military might and untamed wilderness. My heart pounds louder in my ears as I’m pushed into the vehicle without ceremony or conversation.
The ride is tense and silent as I worry, fear lashing in the pit of my stomach. Will they lock me away forever for stumbling upon this secret base? Panic churns within me; images of myself confined in a small cell flash before my eyes.
After only a few minutes, though it seems like an eternity, we arrive at our destination—a compound of Quonset huts. Some are little larger than the one I’ve been sleeping in. There are a few that might be large barracks or office buildings. We pull up outside one of the long, low-slung metal buildings.
“You’ll be speaking with our commanding officer, Colonel Slater,” Barton informs me as he helps me out of the car. He keeps his grip tight on my upper arm as he leads me inside the metal building.
The colonel’s office is furnished in dark woods with plaques and commendations lining the walls, but it’s the man himself who commands my attention. Sitting at his desk, he looks stern, with steely gray eyes that bore into mine. His close-cropped gray hair gives him an authoritative air—one that commands respect yet also instills fear.
“Take a seat,” he says curtly, but doesn’t offer any pleasantries or explanations. “Barton, Webb, remain here. The rest of you can return to duty.”
He has a folder with my name on it in his hands. They’ve already done a background check on me? These guys aren’t fooling around.
With my hands still cuffed behind my back, I gingerly lower myself onto one of two chairs across from his desk—it feels more like settling into a makeshift witness stand than anything else.
“I assume you’re aware that knowledge about this classified base can put lives at risk,” he begins, his voice like gravel crunching underfoot.
My heart hammers wildly in my chest. “Y-yes, sir,” I manage to stammer out.
“I’m glad you know how serious this is.” He leans forward and steeples his fingers in front of him. “So, who else knows about this place?”
The weight of the question bears down on me—every word feels like an anchor pulling me deeper into treacherous waters. My mind whirls, considering all the possibilities and potential consequences.
“No one.” When his brow lowers and his nostrils flare, I add, “Just… Sylas,” as guilt and fear slice through my veins.
“And do you know his whereabouts?”
Relief courses through me. Although I didn’t really believe he betrayed me, this confirms he didn’t sneak away this morning and tell the military about me.
“Mushroom hunting. Near the little pond.”
“Mushrooms.” Slater gazes heavenward, shaking his head.
“Miss Quinn, I don’t know how much Sylas told you, but these males have been through a great deal of pain in their lifetimes. I spearheaded the mission that searched for them for years and finally rescued them. Under no circumstances will I…” His flinty gaze pierces right through me, “allow anything or anyone to endanger them.”
Though his face and demeanor are stern, this man has affection for the splicers. This dashes a lot of my preconceptions about the military being the bad guys in this scenario.
“If word of their existence leaks before we’re ready to properly spin the story to the media, people with evil intent could literally storm the gates. Your comfort and happiness are secondary to the males in my charge.”
Sylas had given me most of this information the day we met, but it never struck me so clearly that the threat of my incarceration was never about me, it was about protecting the splicers.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to lock you up until we decide to go public. An idiot with an expensive drone stumbled onto our base a while ago. We found the culprit and did damage control, but we can’t have the two of you corroborating each other’s stories.”
