The days crawled along, the three of them the forgotten prisoners, at least the ones left to their own devices. A different guard every time delivered two meals a day; two plates of rice and chicken for Vera and TK, and wheeled in daily was a side of raw meat for Demoreo. They used to tranquilize him before rolling his dinner in, but now the docile Crusher would follow with his dead eyes but remained unmoving until the cage door crashed shut and he'd tear through it in a matter of seconds. The security cameras pointed towards the cages reminded her they were never forgotten or alone, just that the lack of physical guards was Branch sending a message to them; they weren't worth his time or resources.
Her mind drifted towards Will and the sheer panic and sorrow that she saw in his eyes that day when he came to find her. Will was an x-factor now, finally aware of Branch's true nature. If he listened and laid low, everything would be fine, but imagining him up in that suite all alone with Jenna and a sea of endless whiskey bottles sent a shiver down her spine. There were many things that Will Farrington was capable of, but drunken outbursts of violence seemed like the most likely path, which scared her. Will just needed to not do anything stupid for a while longer, just long enough for something to catch or for a plan to hatch.
"I'm worried," she said out loud. TK wasn't very talkative, and Demoreo had long-since slipped away from having the ability to hold a conversation of any kind. It was more for herself. "I'm worried about Will."
TK was healing, albeit slower than she'd like to see. TK's tray of food always came with antibiotics, which seemed to help him out, to the best of her knowledge. While medical science wasn't her forte, years in the wasteland and in the bloody Branch Tower had exposed her to violence, death and injuries to where she at least had a base level understanding of them all. She had patched up Will more times than he'd ever like to admit; him avoiding Branch's doctors as to not show weakness to the rest of the fighters that all received medical attention after their fights.
Part of his whole tough-guy image. That was why his arm being in a splint was so devastating to him, although he'd never admit it out loud. An injury like that was a long time coming, though, especially after so many excursions into the arena. Even if Branch was protecting Will, building him up to be this symbol of his power and humanity's perseverance under Branch's watchful eye, things could and did go wrong out on those blood-soaked sands.
"He'll be fine," TK broke the silence, staring up at the blank ceiling.
"What?"
"Your guy there, he'll be fine. He's not all bad."
"That's odd coming from you. Didn't think that you cared for him much."
"I don't," he said, "but I don't see much of a point in killing him is all. He's better alive."
"Is that begrudging respect I hear?"
"Whatever."
"He was injured and in that box with Branch, wasn't he? You had a shot at him and you didn't take it, did you?"
"Nope," TK sat up, groaning while he took a deep breath. "My grudge is with Branch, not any of his thugs."
"Will isn't a thug, you know. I know that he's done some... questionable things out there in the arena, but that's the only life that we know here. It's what we have to do to survive."
"How's that working out?"
"Fair point," she said, sinking back down with her back to the wall, staring over at Demoreo while he slept in his cell. Every exhale came with a low rumble, inhales with a guttural squeal. Right now, her hopes were pinned on the shoulders of a young boy and his mother. That they'd find a way to see Demoreo again and that they would trigger something inside of him. Branch's game was mental, hinging on iconography, desire and the illusion of power. Demoreo was a flag-bearer for that power, for his ability to give and control life. If only she could save one soul, she would want it to be Demoreo's. He had suffered enough.
"Dad?" An uncertain voice broke through the silence. "Dad, are you in here?"
"Tyler?" Vera asked, turning towards the ajar door. "Is that you out there?"
"Umm," the boy poked his head in, wide-eyed and scared, the door obscuring a view of his mutilated father inside of the adjacent cell. "Hey, you're that lady from the other day, right? What are you doing in here?"
"Tyler, look at me, alright? Don't come in here yet."
"Why are you in a cell like that, and who's that guy?"
"This is my friend, TK. Tyler. Stay there for now, okay? I need to know that you'll be okay. Will you be okay?"
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"Sure," he said. "I'm gonna be a guard. You know, I've been doing a lot of training. I've seen some shit, helped my Ma and Dad get through the wasteland and all."
"I know, hun," she said, trying to not sound condescending towards him. "You've gotta trust me, though. Where's your mom?"
"She doesn't know that I'm here. I don't think she'd like this, not at all. She's been crying ever since you stopped by, I read that book you left. All of it."
"Who's that?" TK asked. "Is that the kid you were talking about?"
"Yeah," she answered, keeping her eyes on Tyler to make sure he didn't enter the room. The angle of the door made it so he could only see into her cell. Not his father's.
"Shit," TK said. "Crusher's kid. That's rough."
"TK, you ass," she said. "Don't—"
"I told you," Tyler said. "I read the whole thing. So yeah, I know… everything."
"Tyler, I'm sorry. I wish it wasn't true, but..."
"Can I see him?"
"Promise me you are ready, Tyler. I know you saw some shit out there, but this is your father. Remember that, will you? This is your father, no matter what Branch did to him."
"Wait, is he here? A few of the other cadets told me about this place, told me it was off-limits and that they heard shit coming from here."
"Tyler, you've gotta stay strong, alright?" Keeping her voice level and calm wasn't easy considering the circumstances.
"Is he here?"
"Yes, he is," she said. "He's in this room, you just gotta—"
"Dad!" Tyler burst through the door, stumbling aghast against the concrete wall. "My god..."
"Tyler," she said. "Remember that it's still him in there. That's still your dad, he still loves you."
"What did they do to him?"
"I know that this is scary, Tyler."
"W-what did they do to you, Dad?" The boy inched towards the cell at a crawl, eyes wide open, while Demoreo sat in his cell, watching the boy without a hint of recognition.
"He might not recognize you, Tyler," she said. "They've done a lot to him. He can't speak anymore, they've done things to his mind, he doesn't even recognize me anymore."
"But why?"
"Because he's a killer," TK said.
"TK, cut it out," Vera snipped at him.
"It's true, Branch turned him into a monster, into his personal killer."
"But why?" Tyler had his hands on the bars, clasping onto them and staring into the cell. "Why him? What do they need him for?"
"I don't know," Vera said. "Branch just does things like this, it shows his power."
"Branch is the monster," TK said.
"TK," she looked back at him, trying to calm him down. "Let's give Tyler some time alone with his father, alright? This has to be difficult for him."
"Fine." TK laid back down and pulled his jacket up over his face. Tyler continued to kneel in front of the cell, hands glued to the bars and his watery eyes watching while his father—or what was left of him—sat in the cell groaning, the boils and tumors on his stretched out, rubbery skin making him look more beast than human.
Tyler reached into the cell, Vera having to bite her tongue. Demoreo wouldn't hurt anyone, especially his son, but how much of him was the Crusher and how much of him was Demoreo she just didn't know. There seemed to be none of Demoreo left inside of that husk of a person, but this was her play, this was her hope; she hoped that his family could get whatever was left of him to fight through the abyss and shine through. Demoreo sat unflinching, though, only marginally interested in the boy, no familiarity at all in his eyes.
"Dad, please," there were tears streaming down his cheeks. "Dad, it's me, Tyler."
Demoreo turned his head towards Tyler and lurched his massive body towards him, walking on his hands in the cramped cell. They were face-to-face, Tyler shivering, tears streaming down his cheeks while what was left of his father breathed through his nose on the teen. Tyler stayed in place, though, both terrified and showing strength beyond his years, strength that was no doubt forged out in the wasteland while helping his father, mother and sister to navigate the hellscape of the living dead and the savage living.
"Dad, please."
The boy was sobbing, Vera wishing that she could reach out and hold him, to tell him that everything would be alright even though she knew it wouldn't. "God, I'm sorry Tyler," she said. "This was a stupid plan. A stupid, stupid plan. I'm so sorry."
"That's why you don't fuck with other people's lives," TK said.
"Oh fuck off, TK." A commotion came from down the hall, Tyler looking at Vera in a panic. "Tyler, run."
"Where do I go?"
"Sounds like they are coming from the hall. Go through the labs." She urged him on. The boy darted into the lab just as the metal door swung open and Jordan Branch marched into the room, Stuart and Viktor at his side.
"I don't want to hear it," Branch looked down at Vera, who was just about to speak. "Ms. Maia, I am here for Mr. Gabriel."
TK sat up and stretched out, doing his best to hide the pain from the bullet wound.
"Of course, Mr. Cool will pretend to act like what he did wasn't a big deal, but it was, Mr. Gabriel. You dare oppose me! You dare come after me in front of my people like that? Oh, you believe yourself to be a clever one, don't you? Don't you?"
"Well, I—"
"Silence!" Branch shouted. "You want to put on a grand show for the people, you want to be Mr. Action Hero, don't you? That's all that you know. How could I have been so foolish as to believe that you were a logical man, a smart man who knew when he had it good? You had it good here, TK. On top of the new world, my new world, and you blew it. You blew it and there's no going back. These people they may love you now, but I'm the reason that they are here. I'm the reason that they aren't out in the wasteland as the shambling undead, or worse, and they will remember that once I've spilled your blood on the arena. Yes, me, TK. I will put an end to this once and for all."
"I think I got to him," TK said to Vera, Vera remaining still, unable to formulate a response. It was best to stay quiet and to keep her life than to have a death wish like Gabriel did.
"You insolent little—"
"Boss," Stuart held him back. "Save that for tomorrow in the arena."
"If you thought your wife was a moral conundrum, you fool, wait until tomorrow night!"
Vera watched while Branch stomped off, Stuart and Viktor close behind, the door slamming shut before she scanned around the room to see if Tyler had escaped or not. She didn't see him, which hopefully meant that he could slip out through the lab undetected. That didn't mask the fact that her plan had failed, and that Branch had lost his mind. Tomorrow felt like judgement day, not just for TK, but for everyone.
"What do you think happens tomorrow?" She asked out loud, not expecting a reply.
"Judgement day."