The bleak concrete corridors don't appear as old as they must be, nor do they appear inhabited. The walls are blank.
The Guide shoves Blake forward, making her stumble into the next room. A woman is standing in the center of the room, dressed in red, facing away from them and staring at a screen covered in static. She turns. Her face is beautiful, but cold. Unmoving. Predatory.
"Who is this?" she says.
"Found her wandering through the crater. Says she's just a drifter, but she did have a gun on her," the man answers.
The woman nods. Beside Blake, the Guide tenses.
"It's a handgun, not a common model, so it's unlikely she could have simply found it –"
"Yes, Emerald, she's not a drifter," the woman says sharply. "Which is perhaps fortunate for you, dear." She steps forward and takes Blake's chin in her hand, forcing her to look up and meet the woman's eyes. They are golden, with no warmth or light in them. No spark behind them. Empty.
"Tell me the truth."
"I'm just a wanderer," Blake insists. "Nothing of importance."
"If you are telling the truth, we have nothing to gain from keeping her here. Mercury, deal with her."
It's not a new trick or an inventive one, but it is effective enough. The man – Mercury – slowly wraps his fingers around her throat, and begins to apply pressure. The Guide – Emerald – still has a blade digging into her back.
Blake is a survivor. If revealing her allegiances allows her a chance to survive, she'll take it.
"I'm from the White Fang."
The words come out in a hoarse whisper, but are intelligible. The woman smiles, or makes the motions of a smile with no emotion behind the gesture.
"And why did you leave them? Exile?" the woman asks, gesturing for her subordinates to step away from Blake.
"I left willingly."
"Why?"
"I didn't believe in their cause," Blake says simply.
"You didn't believe that it was worth attempting to conquer the Cities, so you decided to run off into the desert alone? Because you didn't agree with their dreams that were never going to become reality?" Mercury repeats.
"Silence," the woman says. "Mercury, get our – honored guest – medical care, food, and as much water as she wishes."
Mercury looks disbelieving. Emerald's face is harder to read, but there are unmistakable notes of hatred in her expression.
She's jealous. That's one enemy Blake has made, although at least she's not shy about her hatred.
"Go," the woman says, still staring at Blake with unsettling intensity. "We'll talk later."
No one wastes water on someone they intend to kill immediately. On the other hand, no one offers water to a stranger without something in exchange. Blake doesn't know what the price will be, but it will likely be more than she can afford.
…
Ruby's eyes won't open.
She's alive, as best she can tell, but her eyes won't open.
She tries to raise a hand to her eyes. Her hand doesn't move.
The next thing she's aware of is pain. Dull pain in the back of her hand and her upper arm, a sharper pain in her throat.
Ruby panics and chokes and tries to cough or move or experience anything other than paralysis.
One eye is pulled open, and the light shining on it is blinding. Ruby would pull back and raise a hand to shield her eyes if her muscles obeyed her.
"Sedative wore off a few minutes before the paralytic."
The voice is slower than any Ruby's heard, with overpronounced vowels and none of the gravelly undertones she's used to, but it's intelligible. At least she can communicate with her captors.
"Just alert us when it recovers."
This is a different voice, lower-pitched, and it takes Ruby a moment to realize that they're talking about her.
"When she recovers, you mean."
"We went through this already. Considering what hit the planet, it's a miracle it's still shaped like a human. These are not your pets, Marrow."
"Yes, sir."
Ruby's ability to move is coming back, accompanied by unpleasant pins and needles. She tries shifting her arm only to find that it's tied down.
She's still a captive of the cities, but it's better than being dead, at the very least.
Ruby tries to open her eyes, but the white light is still blinding. She can't speak, and the pain in her throat increases to unbearable levels whenever she tries.
If Jaune and Ren are nearby, they may be in the same condition as her, or worse. No matter what, she has to find her team. In the desert teams are lifesaving, and in these unfamiliar conditions they're still critical.
Ruby thrashes against her bonds, fighting the steel biting into her wrists and ankles.
There's someone not far away from her, sitting down. Dressed in white with accents of red and blue. He stands and rushes over.
"Whoa, okay, stay calm. I'm not trying to hurt you."
He sounds genuine enough, but Ruby isn't going to trust someone from the Cities. Not after the war. Not when she still can't speak or breathe.
"Patient is alive and kicking, so I'm removing intubation," he announces to no one in particular.
With the tube pulled slowly and agonizingly out of her throat, Ruby can speak. The words are quiet and garbled.
"Where – is – my – team?"
The man frowns at her.
"I can't have heard that right."
"Where – is – my – team?"
The man stares at her, eyes wide.
"You talk?"
Ruby isn't sure why he's surprised. She nods.
"There are – people down here," the man says slowly. "People survived the attack. Somehow, people like you survived chemical, biological, and nuclear warfare. How?"
Ruby doesn't know what he wants. She just needs to get to her team. But he rushes away and is replaced by people in white coats who look at her too intensely and take her blood, which is more precious than water or fuel here. They don't try to speak to her, and they ignore her when she speaks.
Ruby fights back. Her weapons are gone and she is tied down, but she has been fighting all her life. She twists her arms out of the way of their needles and tears the tubes out of her skin and cries out in a voice worn from lack of use for her team, wherever they may be.
Her team may well be dead, but if they are on this earth, Ruby will find them, no matter what the cost.