Free Fall of Hades by Richard Paul Evans

marched Quentin around to a large platform on the side of the cage. Quentin recognized the platform as the same one he had stood on as Hatch pronounced him king of the Hatch Islands. It was not a coincidence that the same platform was being used, and Hatch would have been pleased that the irony was not lost on Quentin.
    There was a door on the side of the cage with a handwritten sign:
    QUENTIN THE TRAITOR KING OF THE MONKEYS
    An especially large guard stood next to the cage door, with a chain draped over his shoulder and a heavy padlock in his hand. One of the guards unlocked Quentin’s cuffs and took them off.
    Then the large guard opened the cage door. “Welcome to your new kingdom,” he said solemnly, reciting the words he’d been assigned. “Rule it well.”
    Quentin looked warily at the monkeys who were already gathering near the door. He wished that he had Torstyn’s or even Tara’s powers. An EMP would do nothing to monkeys. For the first time ever he wished that he were Michael Vey.
    â€œGo,” the guard said.
    In the lunacy of the moment, Quentin’s mind drifted to something he had studied back at the academy: Dante’s Inferno , Canto III.
    Through me you pass into the city of woe:
    Through me you pass into eternal pain:
    Through me among the people lost for aye.
    . . .
    All hope abandon, ye who enter here.
    â€œAll hope abandon,” Quentin mumbled to himself, unable to make himself go any farther.
    â€œStep inside, or I’ll throw you inside,” the guard said gruffly.
    Quentin took a deep breath, then walked up to the cage door opening and stepped inside, his bare feet squishing in the monkeys’ feces.
    â€œYour new kingdom ,” the guard said again, this time laughing. He shut the door behind Quentin, wrapped the chain around the bars of the gate, and then locked it, slipping the key into his pocket. “By the admiral-general’s orders, though sick or dying, you will never set foot outside of this cage again.”
    The pronouncement sent chills through Quentin’s body.
    The guards, still in formation, stepped down from the platform, and the Zone Captain picked up a megaphone from the side of the cage. “Citizens of Hatch Islands. Before you is a traitor to your country. Show him your displeasure.”
    The natives showed no displeasure nor interest whatsoever, but just stood there staring.
    The Zone Captain lowered the megaphone and shook his head. “Idiots.” He turned to his side. “Squad Captain. Show them the fruit.”
    The Squad Captain approached the people. “There’s fruit here.”
    Still no one moved.
    The Zone Captain growled, “Show the people what they’re supposed to do with the fruit.”
    â€œYes, sir.” The Squad Captain walked over to one of the baskets and picked up an overripe tomato. Speaking slowly, he said, “You throw the fruit at the traitor. Like this.” He turned and lobbed the tomato at Quentin, though he missed by at least twelve feet and hit a large, silver-haired capuchin monkey that screeched, then jumped to the opposite side of the cage, climbing the bars to the top.
    The Zone Captain shook his head again. “Maybe we should get someone with a better aim.”
    â€œSorry, sir.” The Squad Captain picked up a rotten guava and walked up next to the cage and threw it, hitting Quentin on the calf. Then he walked back to the group, who still showed no interest.
    â€œNow you pick up the fruit and throw it.”
    One of the older men stepped forward and lifted a papaya. He looked around, then took a bite of it.
    â€œNo!” the Squad Captain shouted. “Don’t eat it! Throw it!”
    The man looked at him curiously as he took another bite.
    â€œThey’re mocking you,” the Zone Captain said. He grabbed a machine gun from one of the guards and fired it just a few feet above the crowd’s heads. Everyone fell to the ground.