"No One Inside Is Safe" Chapter 9 — What My Blood Could Buy
Chapter 9 — What My Blood Could Buy
Lena made me say it back to her.
“This is not a cure.”
“I know.”
“You may still become confused. Your judgment may change before you notice.”
“Tess watches me. Eli stays clear if I stop making sense.”
Eli lifted his head.
“I’m sitting right here.”
“I know.”
“Then talk to me.”
I turned toward him.
“If I become dangerous, don’t argue about whether I mean it.”
He looked away.
I waited.
Finally, he nodded.
Lena gave me the dose.
It burned.
For several minutes, nothing changed.
Then the pounding behind my eyes eased, and the cold spreading through my fingers began to recede.
I could breathe without feeling as if the air had become too thick.
Tess watched my face.
“Better?”
“Enough.”
She didn’t smile.
Lena wrote the time on my wrist, above the bandage.
Then she wrote it in Eli’s notebook.
No secret.
No pretending.
I had watched my brother suffer because someone else wanted control of the medicine.
I wasn’t going to make him guess what was happening to me.
There were nine vehicles in the lower yard.
Two buses, three delivery trucks, the white recovery vehicles, and our patched van.
People argued over seats until Tess climbed onto the hood of the nearest truck and started assigning them.
“Children with an adult. Injured people where they can lie down. Drivers stay with your vehicles. If you’re looking for somebody, tell the woman with the blue scarf.”
The woman with the blue scarf looked startled.
Then she took out a pencil.
Eli checked the road instructions with the motor-pool mechanic.
Shaw brought Nora and her son from the clinic.
Lena followed with a box of medical supplies.
We were becoming a group.
Messy. Frightened. Slow.
But people were beginning to ask one another what they needed.
Tess came to me while Lena checked another patient.
“More blood means more doses, right?”
I knew where she was going.
“No.”
“You haven’t heard me.”
“I have.”
“Lena could supervise. I could stay here long enough—”
“No.”
Her expression hardened.
“Don’t decide for me.”
I stopped.
She was right.
Even now, she was right.
I swallowed.
“You can decide to help. I’m asking you not to make staying alive my price for your freedom.”
She stared at my bandage.
“There has to be something.”
“Then help everyone leave.”
Her mouth trembled once.
She pressed it closed.
“I hate you a little.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t. You keep doing things that make it impossible to leave you.”
I took her uninjured hand.
“For eight years, we talked about getting out.”
“This isn’t what I meant.”
“Me neither.”
Graham sat inside the cab of the first recovery truck.
Shaw had removed its keys and his weapon.
I climbed onto the running board.
He looked at my arm.
For once, he had nothing ready to say.
ADVERTISEMENT
“The voice outside the bunker,” I said. “Explain it.”
“It was a field assessment.”
“For what?”
He rubbed his gloved hands together.
I waited.
“For response,” he said finally. “Who opens. Who refuses. Who takes charge. Who leaves cover to help someone.”
“You brought an infected person to our door.”
“An observation team brought it to the perimeter.”
“You agreed.”
“Yes.”
The word was almost inaudible.
“Why use Eli?”
“Because you’d respond to him.”
I looked down at the mud on his boots.
All those years, he had sent me out and told me what to bring back.
Food.
Medicine.
Parts.
He had known which name would get me to open a door.
“Were you trying to kill us?”
“No.”
“What happened in the duct?”
“It wasn’t supposed to reach the intake.”
“That’s your answer?”
His face tightened.
“It was supposed to stay on the landing. The handler lost control.”
“And you still wanted me to open the door.”
“They wanted to see what you’d do.”
I leaned closer.
“Who?”
“Bell’s recovery program.”
“What happened to people who passed?”
Graham looked toward the buses.
I understood before he answered.
Useful.
Brave enough to go outside.
Attached enough to other people to be controlled.
“Did you know about the donors?”
“Not at first.”
“And later?”
He said nothing.
I stepped off the truck.
Behind me, he spoke quickly.
“Rowan. Listen. Bell has a private vehicle. Armored. He’s taking the reserve doses.”
I turned.
“Where?”
“Administration garage.”
“How do you know?”
“I was supposed to drive the lead escort.”
Shaw heard that.
He opened the cab door and took Graham by the shoulder.
“You’re coming with us.”
Graham didn’t resist.
He kept looking at my bandage.
The mechanic found the evacuation order on the dispatch terminal.
Not a rescue order.
A priority departure.
DIRECTOR VEHICLE. EAST ACCESS. CLOSE BEHIND.
Below it was a second instruction.
RESIDENT MOVEMENT SUSPENDED UNTIL PERIMETER STABLE.
Tess read it twice.
“He’s taking the road.”
“The only road our buses can use,” the mechanic said.
Eli leaned over the map.
“The gate?”
“Powered sliding barrier. Bell can close it from administration. Once it locks, we need the gate-control station to release it.”
“Can you do that?” I asked.
The mechanic shook his head.
“Not without authorization.”
I thought of the motor cabinet I had inspected on my first maintenance shift.
The wiring diagram clipped inside its door.
The local override.
I hadn’t studied it because I expected to escape through it.
I had studied it because old machines failed, and I wanted to know how to fix one.
“I can get it open.”
Tess looked at me.
“Then we go together.”
“No. You need to move the vehicles as soon as there’s space.”
“Shaw can drive.”
“He can hold the road. Eli can coordinate. You’re the one people are already listening to.”
She hated that I was right.
I could see it.
Lena came over.
“Rowan, let me check you.”
I followed her finger.
Correctly, I thought.
Then she asked me to pick up a small washer from the workbench.
It took two tries.
My fingertips had begun to feel thick.
Lena looked at the time on my wrist.
“That’s sooner than I hoped.”
“How long?”
“I can’t give you a reliable number.”
“What can you give me?”
She held my gaze.
“You’re still making sense. Use that.”
I put the route map inside my jacket.
Eli handed me a radio.
He had marked the transmit button with a strip of red cloth so I could find it without looking.
“Check in every five minutes.”
“I will.”
“Not when you remember. Every five.”
I nodded.
Tess gave me a wrench.
The same heavy one she had put in my hand when I broke into Graham’s medicine cabinet.
I closed my fingers around it.
This time, I had to watch them.
The control building stood above the east service road.
Its windows overlooked the gate, the culvert, and the first bend toward the old treatment plant.
Beyond the northern wall, smoke rose over the treetops.
A white armored vehicle rolled out of the administration garage.
I saw Bell in the passenger seat.
Behind him, a guard loaded a metal case.
Medicine, probably.
Another case followed.
Files.
I crossed behind a parked maintenance cart and reached the control-building stairs.
My radio clicked.
“Rowan?” Eli asked.
“Here.”
“We’re ready.”
I looked through the window.
On the control desk, a red indicator blinked beside the words REMOTE DEPARTURE.
A countdown appeared beneath it.
Bell’s vehicle accelerated toward the road.
I gripped the wrench harder and pushed open the door.
The countdown kept falling.
ADVERTISEMENT
You May Also Like
-
CompletedChapter 10
THE CHAIR THAT CAME DOWN 69 FLOORS
When Flight 11 struck the North Tower, Port Authority accountant John Abruzzo could not evacuate by stairs. Ten coworkers placed him in an emergency chair installed after the 1993 bombing and carried him down 69 floors. Their documented escape—and the chair now preserved by the 9/11 Museum—reveals how preparation, disability inclusion, and an extraordinary decision made before the tower fell changed eleven lives.Stories Behind 9/11|Survival7.1k words5 233 -
SerialChapter 34
I Was Sacrificed to a God
Yulia Farislan woke up as the villainous princess in a world that felt like a fantasy game she once obsessed over. Her fate was already written—execution, exile, or worse. But when her “punishment” sends her straight into the Dark Temple as a sacrifice to a sleeping Black Dragon, something goes very wrong. The dragon doesn’t kill her. He silences the voices in his head. For the first time in centuries… the world goes quiet. And he decides he’s keeping her. Not as prey. Not as a sacrifice. But as something far more dangerous—his. Now trapped in the domain of Caerus, the god-slaying Black Dragon feared even by the heavens, Yulia discovers the truth: The gods are not watching. The heroes are not coming. And the monster she was sent to die to… might be the only one who ever saw her as real.Dark Humor|Healing Romance|Age Gap|Survival|Dark Secrets|Demons|Dragons|Yandere|Instant Marriage|Possessive Love|Redemption Arc|Sweet Romance|HE36.3k words5 113 -
CompletedChapter 42
The Ghost Who Forgot How to Kill
Cassian Vale was built to survive. Former black-ops weapon. Mercenary commander. The kind of man people whispered about long after the blood dried. He doesn’t sleep much. Doesn’t speak unless necessary. And absolutely does not let people touch him. Then he meets Evelyn Mercer. A reckless underground mechanic with grease on her cheeks, unpaid parking tickets stuffed in her pockets, and a terrifying lack of survival instincts. The first time Cassian sees her, she crashes an ice cream truck into the middle of his assassination. The second time, she insults his armored vehicle to his face. The third time? She stitches a bullet wound into his shoulder while threatening to poison his coffee if he twitches again. Evie thinks Cassian is emotionally constipated, vaguely homicidal, and incapable of acting like a normal human being. Unfortunately, she might be falling for him anyway. And Cassian— Cassian is beginning to realize that Evelyn Mercer is far more dangerous than any weapon he’s ever faced. Because for the first time in years… The monster is hesitating.Dark Humor|Human Nature|Healing Romance|Mutual Pining|Age Gap|Survival|Dark Secrets|Plot Twist|Sweet Romance|HE|Adventure35.8k words5 211 -
CompletedChapter 36
The Woman They Shouldn’t Have Mocked
The men at Blackridge decided Emily Carter was weak long before they learned her name. Quiet women didn’t survive there. Not in a place built from concrete, bruises, and men who mistook cruelty for strength. From the second she arrived, the jokes started. “Careful,” Ryan laughed during drills. “She might break a nail.” Marcus made her carry extra weight packs. Jake called her “Princess” every chance he got. And Emily? She never reacted. Never argued. Never fought back. That only made them push harder. Because silence in Blackridge wasn’t seen as dignity. It was seen as permission. Then came the locker room. Steam curled through the fluorescent lights as Emily pulled off her training shirt—and the entire room went dead silent. Scars. Massive ones. Burned deep across her back and shoulders. Jagged. Twisted. Like someone had tried to tear her apart and failed. For one second, nobody laughed. Then Ryan smirked. “Well damn,” he said. “What attacked you? A lawn mower?” Marcus stepped closer, staring openly now. “Maybe that’s why she acts so weird,” he muttered. “Maybe she’s damaged.” The laughter came back louder this time. Crueler. Emily grabbed for her shirt, but Marcus caught the fabric first. “Relax,” he mocked softly. “We’re just curious.” Her breathing broke instantly. Hands trembling. Eyes unfocused. And for the first time since arriving at Blackridge— Emily Carter cracked. She dropped onto the cold tile floor trying to breathe while the room watched her fall apart. Some laughed. Some stared. Nobody helped. Then the locker room door exploded open. “STEP AWAY FROM HER.” The voice hit the room like a gunshot. General Robert Hayes stood in the doorway, eyes burning with something far worse than anger. Recognition. The room went silent. Hayes looked at Emily. Then at the scars on her back. And suddenly his face changed. Not shock. Not pity. Guilt. Heavy. Immediate. Devastating. Marcus frowned. “Sir…?” Hayes stepped forward slowly. Then spoke words that made the blood drain from every face in the room. “You idiots,” he said quietly. "Shut your mouths! Do you even know who she is?" Nobody moved. Nobody breathed. Then Hayes looked directly at Jake Miller. And what he said next nearly destroyed him.Human Nature|Healing Romance|Survival|Dark Secrets|Plot Twist|Redemption Arc37.4k words5 249 -
CompletedChapter 30
The Mafia King's Scarlet Trap
For Elena Hawthorne, revenge for her sister's death was not a choice — it was survival. Every heartbeat, every calculated step, brought her closer to Victor Cassano, the mafia don who thought he could destroy her world. The unchallenged don, was used to obedience, to fear, to women who played their parts—until Elena’s red hair and icy eyes struck at the core of his empire. He had underestimated her. Every calculated move, every subtle provocation, every accidental brush of skin sent sparks of obsession through him. She was the predator in heels, he the prey who couldn’t escape the magnetic pull of her intelligence, beauty, and danger. He tried to dominate. She tried to manipulate. But both were ensnared in a deadly, irresistible dance neither could escape. At a gala where power and money collided, Elena struck. Deals crumbled, alliances shattered, and Victor realized the woman he had dismissed as a mere pawn was the ultimate predator. She turned his empire into her chessboard, twisting rivals and exposing weaknesses with surgical precision. In the world of mafia intrigue, only the cunning survived—and only the irresistible commanded true power.Mutual Pining|Age Gap|Survival|Dark Secrets|Plot Twist|Possessive Love|HE34.8k words5 168 -
CompletedChapter 40
Heartbeat Under Fire
In a city torn by war, fearless journalist Clara Hart captures chaos through her lens—until a hidden landmine nearly kills her. Ethan Cross, a skilled bomb disposal expert, saves her life, igniting a spark neither expected. Amid explosions, betrayal, and loss, survival is their first priority—but passion is unavoidable. Can love survive the battlefield, or will war claim more than just their hearts?Healing Romance|Mutual Pining|Survival|Dark Secrets|Plot Twist|Adventure42.8k words5 434 -
CompletedChapter 36
BENEATH THE MASK
Kael Vanth survived black sites, covert wars, psychological conditioning, and years of being turned into something more useful than human. Tier-One mercenary. BLACK VEIL operative. A masked ghost people whispered about in locked rooms. The kind of man governments denied existing while secretly pointing toward impossible problems and saying: > “Send him.” He was silent, lethal, emotionally unreadable. A man who wore tactical gloves like skin and violence like breathing. Even other mercenaries kept their distance. As for someone like that— Eliana Vale, civilian translator, professional liar, and deeply unqualified emotional disaster, had one immediate thought: > “He looks like he hasn’t slept since the fall of Rome.” Then one night, Kael watched her calmly steal classified intel from beneath the nose of an armed contractor while pretending to flirt over champagne. He was monitoring the room from a rooftop sniper position. One second he was calculating bullet trajectory. The next? Eliana smiled at the target, slipped a data drive into her sleeve, shattered a wine glass into a guard’s throat, and walked out before the body even hit the floor. Kael forgot to pull the trigger. For exactly four seconds. The longest distraction he’d had in years. ... Later, Eliana sat cross-legged on the floor of a freezing safehouse, translating encrypted files while six armed operatives cleaned blood off their gear nearby. No one spoke. Mostly because Ghost was standing behind her. Watching. Eliana didn’t look up. > “Does your organization offer therapy, or is unresolved trauma part of the uniform?” The room went dead silent. Kane slowly stopped breathing. Because nobody joked with Ghost. Nobody. Kael stood motionless beside the table, skull-black mask tilted slightly toward her. Then finally: > “Eliana.” She glanced up lazily. > “That’s my name, yes. Excellent observational skills.” His grey eyes lowered briefly to the bruise on her wrist. Then to the knife hidden in her boot. Then back to her face. > “You’re hiding something.” Eliana smiled too quickly. > “So are you.” Another long silence. Heavy. Dangerous. Then Kael stepped closer. Close enough for her to hear the roughness in his breathing beneath the mask. > “You should be afraid of me.” Eliana looked directly into his eyes. > “You keep saying that like it’s a warning instead of a confession.” ① Emotionally repressed masked mercenary × emotionally guarded civilian liar ② He was trained to kill without hesitation. She’s the first thing that ever made him hesitate. ③ Slow burn / masked antihero / mutual obsession / black humor / PTSD mercenary / dangerous emotional dependency / “she makes the weapon want to become human.”Healing Romance|Mutual Pining|Survival|Dark Secrets|Plot Twist|Yandere|Possessive Love|Redemption Arc|HE|Adventure32.8k words5 146 -
CompletedChapter 41
Ghost Doesn't Fall in Love
Ghost survived black sites, torture, overseas wars, and six years of becoming something less human and more useful. Founder of BLACK VEIL. Mercenary captain. A ghost story in tactical gear. The kind of man people called when they needed a building cleared, a body retrieved, or a problem buried so deep it stopped having a name. He was silent, brutal, untouchable. Even his own men feared him. As for someone like that— Nyra Quinn, underground mechanic and illegal street racer, had one very professional opinion: “He looks like he buries people in wet cement for stress relief.” Then one day, Ghost watched her steal a motorcycle outside a bank and chase down a robber through downtown LA traffic like she’s starring in her own action movie. He’s in the middle of a sniper assignment when it happened. One second he’s calculating wind direction. The next? Nyra tackled the guy off a bike, draged him into an alley, and started beating him with her helmet... He forgot his target existed for six seconds. For the first time in eight years. ... Later, Nyra worked under the hood of BLACK VEIL’s armored SUV while six armed mercenaries stood around like emotionally constipated furniture. She didn’t look up. > “Does your boss come with a user manual, or is the mask supposed to explain the whole personality disorder?” The garage went silent. Because no one talked about Ghost. Not like that. Not in front of him. Ghost stood beside the vehicle, skull mask turned toward her. After a long pause, he said, > “Nyra.” She rolled out from under the engine with a wrench in her hand. > “What?” His grey eyes lowered to the grease on her cheek. Then to her mouth. Then back to her eyes. > “Come here.” Nyra narrowed her eyes. > “If this is a murder thing, I’m charging extra.” Ghost’s voice dropped lower. Rougher. > “I lost focus on a job today.” Nyra blinked. > “Congratulations on having a human experience?” His men stopped breathing. Ghost didn’t move. > “Because of you.” Nyra stared at him. The wrench slipped slightly in her hand. Across the garage, Kane muttered, > “We’re all completely fucked.” ① Emotionally repressed masked mercenary captain × sunshine chaos mechanic ② He kills people for touching him. She touches his mask and asks if he’s hiding scars or feelings under there. ③ Slow burn / touch-starved antihero / found family mercenaries / black humor / “she makes the monster hesitate.”Dark Humor|Human Nature|Healing Romance|Mutual Pining|Age Gap|Survival|Dark Secrets|Plot Twist|Sweet Romance|HE|Adventure42.7k words5 6517 -
CompletedChapter 139
Golden Threads of Fate: I Bound the Villain
Zora had transmigrated into a book. In her mind, a voice resonated—the Oracle. [Congratulations on your second chance at life! Your mission is as follows—] [Target the villain while he is still at his weakest. Capture his heart and prevent the impending end of the world.] In her past life, Zora was a killing machine bred in the darkest pits of the Arena. Now, she’s transmigrated into a high-magic world with one absurd mission: tame the world-ending villain while he’s still weak. Her method? Instead of offering warmth and love, she plunges golden puppet threads into his very marrow. "Stay still," she whispers, using the villain’s blood to warm her frozen hands. To the Oracle's horror, Zora treats the future destroyer of worlds like a stray pup—ordering him to cook, clean, and keep the fire burning. But as Vane’s shattered bones heal under her command, his gaze turns from lethal hatred to something far more dangerous. He was supposed to destroy the world, but now, he only wants to be the most powerful puppet in hers.Dark Humor|Survival|Dark Secrets|Contract Relationship|Prophecy|Cultivation|Yandere|Possessive Love|Redemption Arc|HE|Adventure378.2k words5 1066 -
CompletedChapter 9
Captured by the Kraken: My Fragile Life in the Deep
Stop it, I can’t take much more. It wraps around my waist in the morning, winds around my legs at noon, and by night, it slips right under my clothes—can’t shake it off. After a catastrophic research vessel accident in the Puerto Rico Trench, Elara thought her life was over. Instead, she woke up in a glowing, bioluminescent palace at the bottom of the world, kept as a "pet" by a creature who shouldn't exist. He is Kaelen—a colossal, silver-haired deity with golden slit pupils and endless, shimmering tentacles that never want to let her go. He tells her she can only breathe through his essence; to leave him is to embrace certain death. But as his heated coils wrap tighter around her each night, Elara finds herself fearing his absence more than his possessive embrace. Is it survival, or have the whispers of the deep finally claimed her heart?Survival|Dark Secrets|Plot Twist|Mythology|Yandere|Possessive Love|Redemption Arc|Sweet Romance|HE|Adventure9.7k words5 395