“And just what are you going to do on Level 15?”
The words came fast, betraying her shaky foundation. “Earn tickets. I know what you’re going to say. Brooke… she ran into trouble. But I’m smarter than she is. I always get out.”
He didn’t flinch, once again a stone wall of a man as he rose from the bed. “Then let me get you your map.”
Going to his closet, retrieving a clean pair of jeans, he pulled them on, unsmiling, as he watched her sit up in a pool of white sheets.
On went a shirt, a nondescript button-down.
Walking with purpose, he opened his door and closed it in an unhurried manner. The lock set in place with a resounding click.
Ten minutes later, a stranger who bore a terrifying resemblance to Brooke was led through the door. Cowering into herself. Dressed in a hospital gown.
A terrified, clinging stranger.
Gathering back long hair, the captain exposed the familiar face the girl tried to hide.
A face that had been mutilated—cuts left to close without proper suturing. Angry, infected, ghastly patterns.
Brooke hardly blinked.
His voice soft, the captain said, “Here’s your map, Eugenia. Your advice to travel south toward Fresh Water. You gave her directions straight into the worst hive of violence in five hundred miles. Fresh Water is gangland. You did this to her, and if you leave, this is what will happen to you.”
The verbal knife slipped through her ribs, straight for the heart. In horror, Eugenia drank in a friend. A woman holding on to the captain as if he might keep her safe. As if this was the good place.
Eugenia had enough medical training to understand the damage on display was never going to heal properly without repeated reconstructive surgeries. And surgery was not an option. She’d never gone that far in her medical training. “You let me give her the map.”
Nodding, he tore out her heart. “The savages mutilated her genitalia. Her clitoris and labia were removed—the wounds seared shut the same night they began to rape her for sport.”
Very little was more hideous than the concept of female circumcision. It was a forever rape—the total loss of ability to enjoy sex without a great deal of effort and proper mental stimulation. “I didn’t know.”
“Yes, you did.” Letting Brooke’s beautiful hair fall back to cover her face, the captain added, “You knew, because you have been out there for six years. You’ve seen this before.”
Her reply was small, her chin quivering. “Yes.”
“And you told all the women on Level 15 that there was a world out there worth living in. Fed them your talk of freedom.”
“There has to be.” There just had to be! This couldn’t be it. Locked away and used to make babies. What of her mind? What of her ambition? “Somewhere has to be the way it was!”
“The world is nothing but savagery and violence.” He almost seemed to pity her. “There is no life for you off this ship, Eugenia.”
That was the last straw. His ploy, his manipulation of history, laying all the blame at her feet was wrong. “You whored her for tickets and let her walk off this ship, knowing what was south!”
“You gave her the map. You filled her head with possibility.” Blunt patience and pity became anger. “And don’t think I didn’t try to stop her. Brooke had been given the option to transition straight to Level 9. But she had your map, and your misguided bullshit to see her to freedom. And look at her now.”
No, Eugenia couldn't bear to look anymore.
“LOOK AT HER, EUGENIA!”
Startled by the soft-spoken man’s yell, Brooke began to pee in submission like a spooked dog. And it didn’t stop—the damaged girl’s urine kept hitting the carpet.
In horror, Eugenia found she lacked the bravery to move from the safety of the captain’s bed to help her. “Brooke?”
“Can I go home now?” The whisper for the captain, not for her.
“Yes, lamb.” Pressing a kiss to the top of Brooke’s bent head, his whole demeanor shifted to gentle. “Of course you can go home. I’ll take you right back.”
Guiding the shuffling female from the room, the captain didn’t so much as look over his shoulder at the stricken redhead sobbing into her hands.