Chapter Four

Warning: graphic description of torture ahead!

Wren geared up in her snow gear and tugged on a pair of goggles before exiting the airlocked compartment between the outpost and the frigid Arctic outside. Once she was ready, she pressed the button and the massive steel door slid open. Snow whistled inside as Wren stepped out into the blinding white wasteland. The wind bit at the slightly exposed skin of her face. She pulled up her scarf as she marched through the snow to the ladder on the side of the concrete outpost. She climbed the ladder and brushed snow off of some of the scanners and visual equipment. It seemed as though Prometheus had not sent anyone out here in a while.

Wren returned to the indoors of the outpost and stripped of her gear. Her skin felt as if it melted in the warmth, tingling as the cold slipped from her skin. She sat down and examined the scanners. They showed no signs of vitals. The large monitor directly in front of her showed footage of the Russian outpost. No movement.

Wren leaned back in her chair. The silence pounded on her ears. She wished she had her iPod. She'd kill to listen to some music. She tapped her fingers to create a beat. She hummed, trying to find the right tune.

"Needless to say, I keep her in check." Her voice sounded husky from lack of use. She cleared it. "She was all bad-bad, nevertheless. Callin' it quits now, baby, I'm a wreck…" Tears blurred her vision and she broke off. She looked at the ceiling to keep her tears at bay. She glanced at the clock, which also provided the date. She clenched her teeth. Her birthday was coming up. Was she going to spend it alone in the fucking Arctic? Who knew how long Prometheus would keep her here?

…

Wren awoke to the airlock door sliding open. She jerked out of bed and crouched in the dark as a figure entered the outpost. Prometheus sent her here without a gun, probably because they didn't want her to kill herself.

She peered through the plexiglass wall, into the main surveillance area. A figure bent their head down, examining the equipment. Wren crept through the doorway. She straightened slowly. The assailant was alone. There was only one entrance into the outpost, and this man came through it alone. Wren bent her knees and charged for the unknown man. She jumped, tucked her knees to her chest, and then kicked the assailant with both feet before dropping to the floor. The man slammed forward into the equipment but threw his hands out to catch himself. Wren kicked his legs out from underneath him.

"Whoa! Fuck, stop, it's me!" cried the man. Wren placed her knee against his throat and narrowed her eyes. She drew back.

"Rhett? What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Came to keep you company," said Rhett as Wren stood. She held out a hand to help him to his feet.

"Jesus, I can't get away from you even all the way out here." She flipped on the lights before turning to face Rhett, who rubbed his chin.

"Yeah, you're just so much fun to be around."

Wren crossed her arms. "Apparently you liked getting your ass kicked."

"Yeah, I should've announced myself. Sorry about that. I didn't want to wake you."

Wren pushed past him and checked the equipment. Nothing seemed damaged. She faced Rhett. "Thought I was in timeout?"

"Yeah, by Prometheus, not me," said Rhett. "And since Prometheus is grounded by CIA… They can't tell me shit." He sat in one of the chairs overlooking the surveillance equipment.

Wren sat down in the other chair. She pulled her knees to her chest. "Why are you here?"

Rhett folded his arms. "I heard you were ranting about deviancy to the other cyborgs. And that whole fiasco with 02."

"Yep," said Wren, resting her chin on her knee, "so now I'm in timeout."

"Are you an idiot?"

"Maybe a little bit."

"Stop joking around," snapped Rhett. He leaned forward. "How do you expect to settle in if you keep messing up?"

Wren sucked her teeth. Her hands curled into fists. "I don't want to settle in. I didn't want to come back in the first place."

"Yeah, well, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em," said Rhett, leaning back.

Wren resisted the urge to punch something. She looked at the monitors plastered to the wall in front of her. "The Russians aren't doing anything. It just seems like they're occupying their post just to hold it."

"That's probably exactly what they're doing," said Rhett. "It's a power move. But our guys in Moscow said there's unrest, so…"

"Something's going to happen," Wren finished. She sighed. "Guess it's just a matter of time before World War III starts, huh?"

"Maybe. Maybe we can prevent it."

Wren nodded. "Thanks for coming up here. I appreciate it."

"I don't want you to go crazy."

"Well, I'm pretty sure the point of Prometheus sending me here was so that I would avoid attaching myself to people, so…"

"I don't follow Prometheus's rules."

Wren's lips twisted. "Wish I didn't have to."

"They're never gonna trust you if you say shit like that."

"I'm not going to pretend that I'm happy to be back. I've told Thomas that. Besides, if I act too loyal, they'll still mistrust me. I can hate that they're forcing me to do all this, but I'll still do my job if it means Connor and the others are safe."

Rhett averted Wren's gaze. His jawline hardened. "You're still worried about them?"

"Uh, yeah?" Wren widened her eyes. "Wait, why? Have you seen them?"

"No," said Rhett. "I just think it would be better for you to forget them."

"Well, I can't. And I won't."

"Alright, fine. You're just causing yourself more heartache by doing that."

Wren worked her jaw. She jumped from her seat. "I'm going to bed. There's a cot in that storage closet." She gestured to the door to her left and turned toward her room with the plexiglass walls. Rhett watched her for a moment as she climbed into bed. She rolled over and closed her eyes. Rhett rustled about the closet and set up his cot in the room with the monitors. He turned off the overhead light. The monitors cast an eerie green glow in the small outpost. Wren pulled the blankets around her and shivered. She closed her eyes, her body aching for Connor's warmth.

…

"Congratulations," said Rhett, unlocking Wren's shackles, "You're free."

Wren rubbed her wrists. They felt so light without the shackles. She glanced at the naked, faceless man. Someone tore open his chest. She turned back to Rhett. "Thank you."

Rhett smiled and stepped aside. Wren's heart jumped to her throat. She parted her lips and tears filled her eyes.

"Connor…" She stumbled forward. She reached toward him. Blood covered her hand. She glanced at her hands and arms. Turned them over. Blood. Blood everywhere. She looked back at Prometheus's body. Scratch marks covered it, aside from its torn-open chest. She faced Connor.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Murderer."

Wren's heart split. "What…? Connor, no, I-I did what I had to do to get back to you."

Connor's lip curled. "No. You're too bloody."

Wren felt wetness slide down her face. She touched her cheek. Fresh blood glistened on her fingertips. Blood splattered her clothes. Blood gathered at her feet. She tried to step toward Connor, but tripped over something. She felt around and felt bodies. She grabbed the face of CY009, who stared with blank eyes at the ceiling. Wren knelt upon a pile of bodies, of cyborgs. Her heart jumped to her throat and she tried not to vomit.

"Connor, I did what I had to… I want to come home." A dry sob raked out of her throat.

Connor backed away, shaking his head. "You can't come home. I don't know who you are anymore."

Rhett stood beside Connor. He tilted his head and lifted a gun, placing it against Connor's temple. "You just couldn't follow the rules, Wren." Rhett pulled the trigger. Connor's head jerked to the side with the impact. Then, his body slumped to the floor.

Wren screamed.

…

Wren gasped. She tried to sit up, but her blankets tangled around her and choked her. She scrambled to kick them off, sweating from the trapped heat. Cold air kissed her skin as she managed to sit up. Her chest heaved with her breaths. Wren buried her face in her hands.

"Everything okay?" Rhett sounded thick with sleep.

Wren lifted her head. "Just a nightmare."

Rhett stood and crossed over to her immediately. He sat on her bed with crossed legs. "Wanna talk about it?"

Wren shrugged. She hugged her knees. "I killed them. And you killed Connor. He couldn't even bear to look at me." She avoided Rhett's gaze as tears filled her eyes.

"You killed who?"

"The other cyborgs," Wren breathed. She looked at Rhett and blinked away tears. "I killed the whole squadron."

"It was just a dream. Besides, you're not even really friends with them."

"Yeah, but…" Wren trailed off. Her heart twisted. They're like me. Her eyes burned and her throat felt sore. She swallowed. "I don't want to be a murderer."

Wren failed to hold the tears back. She chuffed with a sob. Rhett pulled her close. He stroked her hair while she cried into his chest. She clutched his shirt as she wept. He leaned his chin on her head.

"It's okay, Wren. It's okay. It was just a nightmare. You're not a murderer. You're not a monster. It's okay. It's okay."

Wren squeezed her eyes shut and controlled her breathing to stop her sniveling. Her body hiccupped with a few sobs before she finally regained composure. She withdrew, her throat thick and her eyes gummy. "Sorry."

"No need to apologize. You know, I still get nightmares?"

"I didn't know that."

"Yeah. Well, I do."

Wren looked at her hands. "Before I deviated, I didn't really have nightmares. I mean, I had them occasionally, but they were rare. But once I started regaining a conscience, I started having nightmares. And when I finally broke through my programming, I had these horrible night terrors… I'd had those before, but… Only after something really traumatic. Connor was the only one able to calm me down after I deviated."

"It sounds like he was a good friend to you."

Wren's lips twitched. "He was too good of a friend to me."

"Don't do that to yourself."

"What?"

"Act like you're not good enough or something." Rhett rubbed his chin. "Because you deserve good friends, even if you think you don't."

Wren's heart softened toward Rhett. She managed a small smile. "Thank you."

Rhett patted her knee. "Go back to sleep. We've got a long day of watching monitors ahead of us tomorrow."

Wren snorted as Rhett stood and returned to his cot. She laid back down. Sleep danced away from her for a while; the image of Connor dying still burned behind her eyes. Eventually, exhaustion took over.

…

Wren and Rhett spent the next few days playing cards and watching the monitors. The Russians never moved. Rhett told her about some of the places he visited on his missions and cases. Wren avoided telling him too much about her friends in Detroit. She knew Prometheus was listening through her. She didn't want to give them an edge.

On the morning of Rhett's fourth day, he packed up to leave. "Well, I can't say this has been my most exciting mission…"

"Stakeouts are never fun," said Wren, leaning against the wall with folded arms.

"They can be," argued Rhett. He shrugged on his jacket. "Hopefully they won't leave you out here too long."

"They'll probably keep me here longer since you came for a visit."

"Nah," Rhett shook his head as he finished gearing up. "You're too good. A loose cannon, but good at your job."

Wren pressed her lips together. Rhett turned toward the door. Wren bit her lip and stepped forward. "Will you do me a favor?"

Rhett turned. "Anything."

"Will you…" Wren trailed off. Her throat swelled. She swallowed before continuing, "Will you check on them? Make sure they're happy and are okay—"

"No," said Rhett.

Wren blinked. "What? Why?"

"Just let them go."

Wren scowled. "You said you'd do anything—"

"Anything but that."

"That's not fair." Wren's eyes pricked.

Rhett bared his teeth. "You're probably never going to see them again anyway. Just let them go!"

"I can't!" yelled Wren. Her chest heaved. "I can't let them go. I won't."

Rhett flattened his lips for a moment. "Why the hell do you still love that android?"

Wren tightened her expression. She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. "I don't have to explain myself to you. Just go."

"Yeah, whatever."

…

Wren hated herself for crying. As shitty as their relationship was, Rhett was Wren's only friend. And now, she pissed him off too much. She hoped not.

She passed the time by exercising and practicing her training, though that was usually more effective with a partner and equipment. The absolutely nothing that occurred while she resided at the Arctic outpost drove her insane. She wasn't there for very long, but it was enough to make her skin crawl. She wanted to claw her hair out by the time CY006 showed up to take her back to Prometheus.

Wren geared up for the snow and followed 06 out into the snow, where they marched toward a plane. Once aboard, 06 faced Wren, a syringe in hand. He smirked. "It'll be easier if you sleep it off."

Wren opened her mouth to argue, but 06 injected her. The world spun, Wren's eyelids drooped, and she fell forward.

…

She awoke strapped to a chair. She pulled against her restraints. "What the fuck is this?"

Pauline stepped into view, her hands clasped behind her back. "I'm sure you remember Sicilian models 003 and 006."

Wren looked at the two androids, the ones who used to torture her under Montgomery's orders. Apparently, not all androids deviated. She clenched her teeth and faced Pauline, pulling at her restraints. "You said things would be different."

"I didn't lie, 01," said Pauline, raising her eyebrows. "But you have."

"What are you talking about?"

Pauline lifted a small remote. "You are currently connected to a system of electroshock device that delivers a high voltage but a low current, so it won't kill you. I want you to think very carefully about your response."

Wren glanced at the wires attached to her arms. One stuck to her android limb while the other wire connected to her human skin. She met Pauline's gaze. "Response to what?"

Pauline's lips twisted. She bent down to meet Wren's eyes. "How are you in contact with your friends in Detroit?"

Wren's eyes stretched. "I'm not in contact with them."

Pauline's brow crinkled. She straightened. "I was hoping for an honest answer." She pressed a button on the remote.

At first, Wren felt nothing. Then, every nerve in her body screamed. Her back arched and she pinched her face before emitting a cry. Just as quickly as the pain started, it stopped. Her body slackened and she panted.

"I don't want to have to turn you over to the Sicilian models, CY001. How are you in contact with the DPD?"

"I'm not."

Pauline pressed the button again. Wren screamed as her body burned. Electricity arced through her circuits and her bloodstream. Static appeared in her audio processor.

"How are you in contact with the DPD?"

"I'm not!" Wren yelled. Sweat dripped down her forehead. She trembled.

"Fine. You give me no choice. Sicilian models 003 and 006, do what you must to get her to talk."

003 and 006 removed Wren's restraints and forced her to her feet. Her knees buckled and the two androids dragged her out of the room.

"I'm telling the truth!" Wren cried. The androids ignored her. They forced her into a broad room that Wren recognized. She struggled against her captors, but her arms jerked awkwardly, still weak from the electrical shock. The two androids lifted her onto a board and strapped her to it. They laid a rag over her face.

"How are you in contact with the DPD?" demanded 003.

Tears stung Wren's eyes. "I'm not."

One of the androids tilted the board back while another poured water onto Wren's rag-covered face. She tried to hold her breath. But eventually, her lungs shrieked for air. She exhaled through her nose and inhaled, chugging water directly up her nostrils. It burned and brought tears to her eyes. Water clogged her throat. She squirmed as her heart raced. One of the androids ripped the rag from her face and straightened the board. Wren gasped for breath and coughed up water.

"How are you in contact with the DPD?" 003 questioned.

"I'm not," Wren choked.

006 punched her. Her face exploded with pain. She whimpered and jerked to cup her face, but her restraints gripped her wrists.

"We know you're in contact with the android RK800, serial number 313-248-317-51. Tell us how!"

"I'm not in contact with him!"

006 tipped the board and replaced the rag. Water poured through the rag and into Wren's mouth and nose. When the androids relented, she wheezed as they straightened the board.

"How are you in contact with them?"

"I'm not…"

006 hit her again. Wren spat a mouthful of blood at him. He blinked and looked across the board at 003. 006's LED flickered. Then, the androids removed Wren's restraints and dumped her onto the floor. The impact knocked even more water from her lungs. She coughed up a mixture of water, saliva and blood onto the concrete floor. 003 hauled Wren to one side of the room, where he forced her to sit in a chair. The androids clasped Wren's wrists into the cuffs attached to the chair. 006 took a picana from the shelf attached to the wall.

"How are you in contact with the DPD?" demanded 003.

"I'm not in contact with them," Wren croaked. She stared ahead blankly. 006 hit Wren with the picana. On top of the blunt pain, the rod also shocked her. She jerked with the agony and moaned. She pressed her lips together until it hurt. Her eyes smarted.

"How are you in contact with them?"

"I'm not in fucking contact with them!" Wren snarled. "I haven't talked to them in weeks!"

The Sicilian androids exchanged a glance. "Then why are they researching your past?"

A chill rippled throughout Wren's chest. "They're researching my past?"

006 smacked Wren in the shoulder with the rod. She cried out as her shoulder seared with pain before it ebbed into a throb.

"We're asking the questions, not you!"

"Why are they researching you?" 003 bent toward Wren, but she avoided meeting the android's cold gaze.

"I don't know," she breathed. "Maybe they want closure or something. I don't know. I didn't even know they were doing that, just please…" Tears welled in her eyes and she finally looked at the android. "Stop. I'm telling the truth."

A door opened on the other side of the room. Pauline entered; the click of her heels echoed throughout the room. "Leave us."

The Sicilian androids obeyed, moving with hauntingly mechanical unison. Wren looked up at Pauline, her entire body aching. "I'm not in contact with them. I didn't know they were researching me, I swear."

Pauline squatted. "Tell the truth, and this will end."

Wren swallowed. "I am telling the truth."

Pauline straightened. She circled behind Wren and withdrew something. Wren stiffened when she heard the click of a gun's hammer. "I'll ask one more time, or I'll be forced to terminate you. How are you in contact with them, and why are they researching you?"

Wren's lip trembled. Her heart slammed in her chest. She wanted to throw up. Her mouth dried. She considered lying, but that would only endanger Connor. This would end one of two ways: Connor's death or hers. "I am not in contact with them, so I can't answer why."

She closed her eyes and tensed, waiting for Pauline to pull the trigger. Wren pictured Connor's face, his gentle smile and soft eyes, the way he parted his lips when he didn't know how to respond to something—

BANG.

Wren jumped and emitted a soft yelp. Her ear rang from the shot that missed her head. Static rippled through her audio input for a moment and a sob erupted from her chest.

"Congratulations, CY001. I believe you're telling the truth."

The two Sicilian androids reentered the room. Pauline handed the gun to 003.

"Take CY001 to the infirmary. She's earned it."

The Sicilian androids removed Wren's restraints. Her body shook so violently that her legs buckled as she tried to stand. 006 caught her, scooped her up, and carried her through the hall. Wren stared at her hands, though she took note of the new location in the building. 006 entered a door to the right, which led into a large, hollow area of the building. Wren's eyes traveled toward the ceiling. She looked around the area. Walkways circled the opening, like the inside of a hive. 006 carried Wren through the walkway and descended a set of stairs. He crossed a path that stretched across the open area. He entered a room, which Wren quickly registered as the infirmary.

A man wearing scrubs walked forward. "Place her on the table."

Sicilian 006 obeyed. The cold steel of the table burned the part of Wren's leg that still possessed human skin. She flinched as the doctor looked her over. He cleaned her wounds and used butterfly bandages on the cuts of her face. He gave her a salve to apply to her electrical burns. He even used a synthetic skin fluid to repair the electrical burn on her cybernetic limb. When he finished over an hour later, the Sicilian androids brought Wren to her cell. She noted that they walked through the hollow area, down three corridors that looked exactly the same, and entered the wing that belonged solely to her. They shoved her inside her cell and locked the door.

Acid bubbled up Wren's throat. She dropped beside the toilet and vomited.

…

I promise, the story won't be so dark and dreary all the way through! I want Wren and Connor to reunite just as much as you guys!

Song: Can You Hold Me by NF

To the guest who reviewed the previous chapter: Thank you so much! I work on this story as much as I can every day, so that I can post as often as I can!