Chloe

“No,” Joan vowed. She grabbed Bash’s shirt. “I don’t want this. Didn’t want this to happen.”
Screams resonated.
Bash continued quietly, “None of us do. That’s not up to us. We have to decide what we’re going to do with what we’re given. Play the cards dealt to us.”
― Cate Campbell Beatty, Donor 23

“With that Nox turned a knob. There was a delay, but that was how the machine worked. First it gathered information about the subject, feeling, sensing—like a fighter in a ring, circling his opponent.
Kaleb sensed it, too. It was as if a doctor palpated his flesh, pushing his skin. It tingled gently. The tingling surged through his whole body. Was this it? Kaleb thought. Visions from his past shot through his brain. His mother. Father. Zenobia. Joan and Reck. The Three Musketeers. Pleasant memories.
Then the machine found what it searched for, and it acted. Waves of pain shot through his entire body, causing him to arch his back. He screamed in agony, his screams reverberating across the canyon. Then all of his muscles constricted. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even scream. It seemed to last forever. It stopped, and his muscles relaxed, allowing him to breath.”
― Cate Campbell Beatty, Donor 23

“The law isn't merciful.”
― Cate Campbell Beatty, Donor 23

“Then his fingers trembled on her ankle—tightened around her foot. His head shifted, turning toward her. With a growl, she crashed the poker down onto his head. His hand jerked. A gurgling noise arose, not from his throat but from his chest, from deep down, as if he were fighting for something. Struggling. His eyes shifted toward her. Joan raised the poker again. The gurgling stopped—not abruptly but in a final, lingering, prolonged, exhalation of breath. His lungs gradually expelled every last atom of oxygen.”
― Cate Campbell Beatty, Donor 23