Free The Final Trade by Joe Hart Page B

She was always kind and considerate. Her best friend at the ARC was Grace. They were inducted a few months apart.” A numbness like the kind that used to inhabit her legs tries to seep into her mind. She almost welcomes it.
    “I thought Terra told you that when NOA was done with the women they were killed,” Chelsea says.
    “She did.” Zoey gazes down into the cup she holds. “Maybe they said that to frighten her. Maybe she assumed it, I don’t know. The fact is, Halie’s here, which can only mean one of two things.”
    “Either she escaped . . .” Merrill says.
    “Or NOA let her out,” Zoey finishes.
    “Why would they let her out? What purpose would that serve?” Chelsea asks.
    “You’re right. What purpose?” Zoey says, mind warring against the invading paralysis. “They always have an agenda, some reason for what they do. How would they benefit by setting her free?”
    The room falls quiet for a time, before Ian shifts from where he stands against the wall. “When she recovers, perhaps she’ll be able to tell us.”
    “What if she doesn’t recover?” Zoey asks. “What if . . .”
    “We’re going to take good care of her,” Chelsea says. “She’s safe now. You should get some rest too.”
    “I can’t sleep.” She chews on her lower lip. “Halie had a breakdown before she was inducted. She attacked a guard and they put her in the box. I wonder if she was afraid to leave the ARC. If they’d institutionalized her so much the thought of freedom sent her over the edge. And now look what they’ve done to her.” Zoey takes a shuddering breath. “I want to talk to them.”
    “Who? Ken and the others? That’s not a good idea,” Merrill says.
    “I need to know.”
    “And we’ll find out, but first let’s think about the best—”
    “That’s my friend in there, and it could’ve been me,” she whispers, the words almost choking her. “I can’t even imagine the type of suffering she went through. I waited all my life for answers. Please, Merrill.”
    His face contorts and he struggles with something before slowly nodding. “Stay out of their reach and keep the door open. We want to hear everything they’re saying.”
    “Thank you.”
    Downstairs, she finds Rita and Sherell standing outside the room where the men are locked up. Both of them have dried tear tracks on their faces and hollow eyes.
    “How . . . how?” Sherell asks, unable to finish the question.
    “I don’t know,” Zoey answers. “They must have let her out after induction.”
    “Why would they do that?” Rita says.
    Zoey shrugs. “That’s what we’re going to find out. Have they been tied up yet?” She nods toward the door.
    “Yeah. Eli used some plastic straps to secure their hands,” Rita says, sniffling.
    “Good. Did Eli give you the keys?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Open the door.”
    Rita gives her a long look before pulling out the ring and finding the correct key. She twists the knob, letting Zoey step inside.
    The seven men sit with their backs to the wall, hands bound behind them to a pipe running the length of the room near the floor. Benny is the closest on the right while Ken sits at the opposite end of the line. Every man looks up and stares as she enters and stands before them. The room stinks of sweat.
    “Where did you find the woman upstairs?” she asks.
    “Pretty, ain’t she, boys?” Ken says. “Gonna tear her apart, aren’t we?”
    Some of the men rumble their assent, their gazes hungry, unflinching.
    “I’ll ask you one more time. Where did you find her?”
    “The rest of our contingent should be back tonight,” Ken says, giving her a smile. “See, we’re part of a much larger group. They go out on a scouting trip every few weeks and they should be returning any time now. Ain’t that right, boys?”
    There is a chorus of “yep” and “that’s right.”
    “You’re lying.”
    “You’ll all be gathering flies by the time the sun comes up, and we’ll be