He blacked out instead.“That’s too deep,” said the Consul. “My mistake.”She pulled the hair-thin needle from the boy’s left side and slapped him in the face. Robb opened his eyes and watched the Consul flip through the pages of the yellow volume again, like a mother nose-deep in the family cookbook.This looks like Hausen’s quarters, he thought groggily, except for the changed furniture and the ceiling-to-floor post in the middle of the room. The one he hung from, his arms tied above his head. He wished he were a trussed deer hanging from a tree. At least then it would be over.The Consul slid a finger down his ribcage and stabbed the needle between a different set of ribs. “Hope this works,” she said. “Try not to pass out.”Robb grunted as intense pain shot through his chest and rotated between hot and cold. Sweat dripped from his nose and onto the concrete floor.“Perfect. Now I’m going to ask the same question as before. It’s about the place you call ‘the Tombs.’ Do you know the entrance code?”Robb twitched his head from side to side.“Do you know who does?”Robb bobbed his head up and down.“Finally, some progress.
