Because of her blood, not only had five teenagers already gone insane, but their insanity was driving an untold number of them to suicide—and the researchers wanted to repeat the process with a larger group.
She couldn’t let that happen.
They needed her blood, drawn and injected within hours, as a type of catalyst for the Null Formula to work. If they didn’t have her blood available, they wouldn’t be able to conduct any more tests.
There was a chance that the researchers might find another catalyst within a few weeks or months, but it was a risk she was willing to take. Stopping the tests, even for a few months, would prevent more people from going insane or committing suicide.
Kiarra needed to die.
I can do this. Think of the others. She took a deep breath, tightened her grip around the shiv’s handle, and whispered, “Please let this work,” before raising the blade with a steady hand and plunging it into the top half of her forearm.
Kiarra sucked in a breath as the pain shot up her arm. She bit her lip to keep from making any more noise, aware that despite the AMT-wide staff meeting, a guard would come to investigate if she screamed.
She pulled the blade a fraction more down toward her wrist, this time biting her lip so hard she could taste iron on her tongue. While her brain was telling her to stop, she fought the instinct and gripped the handle of the blade until it bit into her palm.
Only when her heart stopped beating would the other first-borns be safe—at least from her.
An image of a little girl crying, reaching out her arms and screaming Kiarra’s name, came unbidden into her mind, but she forced it aside. Her sister had abandoned her just like the rest of her family. Her death wouldn’t cause anyone sadness or pain. Rather, through death, she would finally have a purpose.
This was it. On the next inhale she started to cut down her arm again, but then the door of her cell slid open.
Kiarra looked up and saw a tall man—dressed head to toe in black—standing in her doorway and pointing a gun straight at her.
Shit. She’d been discovered.
She wondered where she’d gone wrong. None of the guards should be wandering the halls. Everyone from the head warden to the maintenance staff was required to attend the monthly AMT meetings.
Of course, she had never seen any of the staff wearing black uniforms before. Maybe the AMT had increased security and the man was a new type of guard.
Whatever the slip-up, it would cost her if she didn’t act before they could restrain her or drug her unconscious.
She swung the shiv upward, toward her throat. But between one heartbeat and the next, the man had pinned her arm, holding the shiv to the bed with his knee. He now held a knife against her throat, the metal still warm from his body heat.
He leaned close enough that his breath tickled her cheek. “Toss away the blade, pet.”
He increased the pressure against her throat, but not enough to draw blood. The blade was meant to be a threat, but to Kiarra, it might just be the solution.
She arched up toward the blade and felt it nick her throat. But before it could do any real damage, the man tossed the blade away and pinned her to the bed with his weight. Stunned dumb for a second, Kiarra didn’t fight back as the man leaned close to her face and whispered, “Keep it up, pet, and you’re going to get yourself killed.”
None of the guards would talk to her like that, in a gentle, soothing tone.
Something was wrong.
Brushing the feeling aside, Kiarra adjusted her hold on the shiv she still had clutched in her right hand. If she could get free, she might just have one last shot at success.
Channeling all of her anger and frustration from the last twenty-eight years, Kiarra smacked her forehead against the man’s chin. The split-second distraction gave her enough time to wiggle her hand free and stab her blade into the man’s bicep. He grunted but didn’t move away like she’d planned. Instead, the man used all of his weight to pin her down while he plucked away her blade and tossed it across the room. As it clattered against the wall, a heavy sense of defeat came over her.
Her only chance to save the other first-borns was gone.
Despite her resolve, despite her best effort, she had failed.
More people were going to die.
Tears prickled her eyes, and without realizing it, she whispered, “You’ve ruined everything.”
He paused a second at her words, his eyes searching hers for answers. His green eyes were curious and Kiarra almost believed he wanted to hear her story. Then he pulled out a zip tie from one of his pockets, maneuvered her hands together, and secured it around her wrists. She flinched as her cut was pressed tightly again her other arm, but she ignored it.
Kiarra tried to pull her arms apart, but the plastic ties wouldn’t budge.