Forsaken by Shadow (Mirus 1)

They’re going to have me fight a prisoner?

Gage didn’t like this. He had no problem beating the shit out of one of these asshole soldiers, but he didn’t want to hurt some poor schlub they were detaining. From the way the man moved, he’d obviously been several rounds already.

They marched him across the room, roughly wrangling him into the ring. The guy swayed as they unshackled him. He rubbed his wrists where the cuffs had abraded the skin, but made no effort to attack any of his captors, only turned drunkenly back in the direction of the door he’d been marched through, head bowed. They whipped off the hood, and the man’s head ducked further, as if trying to hide from the glare of the lights. One of the soldiers stripped off the man’s shirt, revealing a patchwork of bruising covering his ribs and back.

Christ, this guy’s in no shape to fight. What the fuck are they thinking?

Gage felt his heart beat thick in his chest as his opponent took a few stumbling steps, circling the ring, taking in the audience. The big, reddened hands curled into fists as he made it around to Gage and straightened by infinitesimal degrees. His squinted eyes went wide, his face paling until the bruises there stood out like bull’s-eyes.

Keeping his face carefully blank, Gage had only one thought. Oh, fuck.

* * *

Embry made another gagging noise and dumped some more of the food she’d smuggled in into the toilet. She groaned for effect. As far as her guard was aware, she had a massive and violent case of food poisoning. She’d already been in here for fifteen minutes, and she knew he was getting impatient to get back to the fight. Wetting a paper towel at the sink, she blotted her face so as to appear clammy and ill. Then she sank down to her knees and opened the door.

“Private?” she croaked.

He turned, eyes dropping to where she leaned weakly against the doorjamb. “You okay, Ma’am?”

“I’m afraid not. Word to the wise. Next time you’re on leave, avoid Juanita’s Tamale House.”

“Do I need to get a doctor?” he asked, frowning.

“No. It’s just food poisoning. I’ll be fine once it’s all… out of my system. You probably don’t wanna wait around for this.”

“I’m to escort you back to the arena.”

Embry dialed up her internal temperature and swayed a little. “Look, I’m gonna be—” She feigned swallowing back vomit. “Be a while. You shouldn’t have to miss the fight because of me. Go watch a round or two and come back for me.”

The private hesitated, looking down the hall at the faint sound of cheers.

Embry dove for the toilet again, dry heaving.

“I’ll come back to check on you in a few minutes,” he said at last.

Not looking at him, Embry waved him away and hunched miserably over the bowl. The door shut quietly behind him.

She kept up the charade for another few minutes, waiting to see if he’d be coming back soon. When he didn’t, she opened the door and peered out into the corridor. Deserted.

Embry’s original plan was to worm her way into the air shaft in the bathroom, but the only access point was a narrow vent in the ceiling that she couldn’t even fit her head through. Her only choice was to attempt the halls and pray to God that everybody was at the fight. She needed to find a computer terminal to try to access the main system and find out where her father was being held. And then she needed schematics to figure out how to get wherever that was. And while you’re at it, why don’t you ask for the cure to cancer and an end to world hunger?

The sound of her careful, soft footsteps seemed to echo off the bunker walls. A litany of curses ran through her brain to the rhythm, and she wished she had Gage at his peak to muffle the noise. But he was otherwise occupied.

She met no one. But rather than ease her anxiety, it only wound her tighter. This recon was on borrowed time. She knew it. Gage knew it. It was only a

matter of minutes, half an hour at the most, before someone came looking for her specifically or until somebody who wasn’t interested in fighting stumbled across her.

From somewhere down the hall a door slammed. Heart in her throat, Embry bolted for the nearest door. Locked. Footsteps drew closer as she dove for the next one, silently swearing when she saw the keypad and retina scanner. Fuck. There were two sets of feet, she realized. Frantic, she wedged herself into the profile of a metal girder. She would be hidden if they didn’t look too closely, but if they looked back…

Embry didn’t breathe, didn’t blink as the two soldiers moved past her down the hall.

“I can’t believe Mackey’s getting away with this. If the big wigs find out that he brought in a civilian, they’re going to flip.”

“A civilian, hell, have you seen the way Cade Shepherd fights? Twenty bucks says he’s got military experience of some kind.”

Something like that.

“Mackey better hope the general doesn’t get back earlier than planned. He’ll get court martialed for this. And so will everybody else who’s left their post to go to this fight.”