“I said, ‘this way,’ missy,” the leader snarls.
I don’t argue again. I begin to trudge through the cell, following his lead out of the prison cell, along the corridor, then finally out the cell block and into the bright sunshine.
It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust. When they do, I gasp in horror. As far as the eye can see are groups of slaves, other people like me, chained together, moving heavy blocks and stones to make buildings. They’re all painfully thin and barely clothed. Many of them are bright red, sunburned from the harsh glare of the sun. I can see why our captors wear the robes now, to protect their skin from the UV glare. Black-robed slavers ride about on motorbikes, making clouds of dust fly into the air. They whip the prisoners as they go, seemingly at random.
Enormous structures like temples are dotted around, made of huge stone bricks. Some stones stand several feet high, while others have intricate patterns, statues and columns carved into them. It reminds me of pictures of Ancient Egypt that I learned about in school. The slavers are building a new city in the crater where another city once stood. It’s like being in a valley, only this one was man-made, created by bombs, bombs that were far more destructive than anything I saw in the north. These bombs have created a wasteland, a brutal landscape of desert. There’s not a tree or body of water as far as the eye can see.
“Welcome,” the robed man says in his fake cheery voice, “to Memphis, Tennessee.”
We trudge along, me leading the way, following the robed man. The whole time, my eyes are darting around me, taking in everything, seeking a way to break out of this nightmare. We’re so close to reaching Texas, there’s no way I’m giving up now. I’ll do whatever it takes to get out of this place.
My heart soars when I catch sight of bright ginger hair. I look over. Molly is in another chain of prisoners, being led the same direction as us. She’s gritting her teeth and limping. I let out the breath I’d been holding as I see that a few people behind her stands Ben. I’m relieved to discover that he’s completely unscathed from the crash, though there’s blood on his clothes. I scan the rest of the line but Stephan and Zeke are nowhere to be seen. I can’t help but fear the worst.
We’re led past a stack of cages filled with animals. I see that crammed inside one of the cages are Penelope and Jack. They look terrified, huddled together, shaking. My only comfort is that they have each other.
As we trudge through the wasteland, I manage to catch Molly’s eye. Silently, we try to communicate with one another. She’s looking at the bikes, same as me. We’re both thinking that they’re our only chance of escape. If we want to live to see tomorrow, we’re going to have to steal them somehow.
I gesture to the chains around my wrists. The way that we’re all connected together means that if I yank hard enough, I could get the whole line to fall. Then, in the confusion, we might be able to find a way to break free.
I look back at Ryan and hold up my chained hands, trying to communicate to him what I intend to do. I mime tugging them down and he nods in understanding. But my attempt to communicate with him doesn’t go unnoticed by the guards. A slaver zooms over on his bike and cracks his whip against my chest before roaring away. I cry out in pain and fall to my knees. Blood appears on my top.
Despite the pain making black stars flash in my vision, I know I can’t let this opportunity go to waste. I pretend to be struggling to stand up, knowing that the slaver will return and whip me again. As I slowly struggle to my knees, I quickly glance over at Molly and nod, as if to say: now. We tug on our chains simultaneously. I see her line begin to tumble, and can hear the prisoners behind me begin to fall as well. At the same time, the slaver circles back around on his bike, his whip raised high, ready to discipline me for my rebellion. I reach out and grab the whip as he cracks it down. I grip with all my strength, not letting go, then yank it toward me. The slaver goes spinning off his bike, smacking to the ground with a crunch. The bike heads straight toward a crowd of people, making them scatter in all directions.
Chaos breaks out in that moment. Slavers start whizzing toward us on their bikes, attempting to quell the pandemonium with their whips. But the rest of my group understands what is happening—they know instinctively that I’m trying to free us all—and the other prisoners catch on too. The slavers may have weapons and bikes, but we have more people and an unbreakable will to live. If I can just get my chains off, I’ll be a formidable opponent.
There’s a bike screaming toward me, and I know I have only one shot to do what I’m planning to do. It’s a crazy idea but I have no other options.
As the bike flies toward me, its rider ready to strike me with the whip, I throw my chained hands out directly in front of its tires. As the whip lashes against my back, making me scream with pain, the bike roars directly over the rusty chains, snapping them clean in half. I’m free.
I rise to my feet immediately and leap, like a cat, onto the back of the motorbike. The slaver is not expecting me to move so quickly and doesn’t get his defenses up in time. After a short grapple, I manage to shove him off the bike. He hits the ground hard and goes rolling across the desert earth.
I take control of the bike and double back on myself, heading straight for Ryan.
“Chains!” I shout. “I’m going to cut your chains!”
I see him crouch and lay his arms out, closing his eyes, unable to look. But I steer perfectly over the chains, and they snap beneath my wheels. He’s free. Now there are two of us able to fight.
The prisoners in Molly and Ben’s chain are being surrounded by bikes, penned in like sheep, with nowhere to go. It’s up to me and Ryan to liberate them.
I slow the bike, allowing him to leap on the back.
“You’re bleeding,” he says, leaping on.
“I’ll be fine.”
He encircles my waist with his good arm, the other hanging limply by his side, and I rev the bike again. Together we race forward, plowing straight toward the group. I’m trying to call their bluff, to get them to scatter, but they’re holding their positions.
“WE’RE GOING TO CRASH!” Ryan screams in my ear.
I can see the terrified faces of the prisoners behind the line of captors on bikes. Everyone knows what is about to happen, and I’m the only one who can stop it. But I won’t. This is our one chance. I gun the bike, gaining more and more speed.
“JUMP WHEN I SAY!” I shout back to Ryan, praying he can hear me over the roaring wind.
His grip on me gets tighter and tighter.
“NOW!” I scream.
We both jump to the side, letting our bike carry on forward without us, and hit the ground hard. I roll across the parched earth, one, two, three times, then manage to stop myself. I glance over my shoulder just in time to see the bike slam into the others at full speed. The gas tank explodes and I duck down, covering my head with my arms as flames and bits of twisted metal fly into the air and rain down over me.
This is the chance the other group needed. In the chaos and under the cover of thick, billowing smoke, they’re able to scurry away from their captors, many of whom are now lying groaning on the ground or rolling around in an attempt to put out the fires ravaging them.
“THIS WAY!” I scream, leaping to my feet, ignoring the aches and pains in my body from hitting the ground.
A little way ahead, Ryan manages to drag himself up. His bad arm dangles uselessly at his side.
All the prisoners begin to follow me. For the first time since being chained to the front of my group, I catch sight of Bree, way, way back. She and Charlie are attempting to liberate Jack and Penelope from their cages. I’m about to scream at them that there’s no time when they manage to get the cage open. The dogs leap down and start running toward me and Ryan. Bree and Charlie clasp their hands together and run at full speed through the fire and smoke, jumping over smoldering body parts and hunks of metal. I want to run to Bree, to sweep her into my arms, but I know I have to keep going forward. I have to trust that she’ll follow.