“Zeus?” I ask. “What about—?”
“Don’t worry about him. He’ll get back. He always does.” Cole looks down at my feet and sighs. “They could’ve at least given you sneakers.”
“Tell me about it.”
We move slower now but still at a brisk pace. I fight through the shooting pain in my ankle because I don’t want Cole to carry me. Without warning, a loud gunshot penetrates the area behind us. The bullet must’ve found its target because fiery objects fly in our direction. Before Cole gets me to the ground, I hear a loud concussion… and everything’s black.
My head pounds like a sledgehammer, making my thoughts hazy and my body stiff. I try to sit up but can’t seem to get my muscles to do what I’m commanding them to do. There’s a distinct smell of blood in my hair, but I can’t remember exactly how it got there.
Someone touches my hand. I pull it away and tuck it under my back.
“Are you all right?” Cole leans over me, his face coming into focus.
All of a sudden, memories circle in my brain, and the picture of Sarge’s body lying next to Zeus pops in front of my eyes.
The running and the chase. The blast… the flames.
“Was I the target?” My entire body hurts.
“I don’t know, but our timing couldn’t have been worse.” He looks down at the ground between his legs. My hands shake as the adrenaline wears off. Ironically, it’s not the blood that bothers me the most. It’s the violence, or at least my inability to protect myself, that bothers me.
Zeus licks my face and I’m not sure which is worse—dog slobber or blood.
“Dude, cut it out!” I wipe my face with my shirt. Cole reaches over and pushes Zeus’s head away, but Zeus refuses to budge.
“Zeus. That’s enough.”
“Was that normal? What just happened? Is that normal?” I ask.
“Well, not exactly. Fighting between citizens is normal, but lately there’s been more fighting with the guards,” he says, brushing off his pants. “But you. Well, you’re the prettiest girl they’ve ever seen, so instantly, you’re their greatest reward. I bet there’s countless bets going on that involve you… You’re the talk of the Hole… And they all want you to themselves. Some just want to kill you because that’s their passion. Others want to—”
“I get the point,” I cut him off before he talks about the color that’s branded on my neck. “Let’s get out of here.”
We jog to our quarters. My clothes are spattered with blood, dirt’s plastered in every crevice of my body, and my head thunders. My heart hammers against my chest. My ankle throbs and Zeus keeps running into me. The damn dog doesn’t watch where he’s going half the time. He grins at me with his huge tongue hanging to the side of his mouth. I can’t complain about him too much, though, since he saved my life once already.
He might be the most compassionate one here.
Everything looks abandoned. I glance warily around me while we run. The faint echo of a skirmish occurring in the background terrorizes me, and I don’t want to get caught in a situation like that again. As we turn into the courtyard of our building, a voice pierces the darkness.
“Skank. Skank! SKANK!” The voice yells louder each time. Cole grabs my arm roughly and speaks directly in my ear.
“It’s just Bill. He’s mentally disturbed but harmless. He screams something about your brand the very first time he meets you. It won’t happen again, at least not from him.”
I’m branded for life. I’ll always have lust tattooed on my neck in blue… It will happen again. I self-consciously pull some strands of my hair over my brand as we pass him. He sits on the cement pavement outside the entrance, inhaling a cigarette. His appearance is barbarous with wild, unkempt hair and missing teeth. His cackle disturbs me as I follow Cole into the building.
“Don’t take it personally,” Cole says.
“Sure.”
At what point do they believe what’s been branded on their skin instead of just knowing who they are inside?
My eyes focus on him ahead of me, his muscles flexed as he opens the door. Moonlight slips across my cell, and breathing finally becomes easier. Collapsing on my mat, I squint when Cole flicks on the light. I roll over, too tired to talk and too traumatized to eat. There’s no way out of this place now. I’m going to live the rest of my life in this hell.
I toss and turn on my mat and can’t stop the flood of memories from burning me up inside. I promised myself I’d never go through the pain of telling my story again. Nothing hurts more than the disbelief of people who are supposedly your friends.
“You’re a liar just looking for attention. How could you say such things?” they said to me.
Only heartless people don’t believe a child. A part of me died when my father passed away. A slow withering took place in our family, and my mother deteriorated into a shell of her former self. No protection existed for me. I prayed every night that my brother would return and take me away. He never came.
I was full of life, happy, confident. My father loved me. He gave us protection and peace. I didn’t know anything about the outside world except what they taught in school. How that’s changed since he passed. Everything changed.
My family would’ve been forced to live on the streets if I hadn’t obeyed the rules. My stepfather bought my silence with the threat of consequences. He promised retaliation and he followed through.
All these thoughts swirl through my head as I lie down, pretending to sleep. I jogged the whole way back without consciously knowing it. I braved a gunfight and witnessed the murder of a man in the street. I succumbed to the screaming of an insane person outside my own building, and still I’m alive.
Giving up on sleep, I walk to the bathroom and turn on the shower. Cole left his door open and I see Cole, who looks deep in thought. Zeus stands on his hind legs and drinks from the kitchen faucet in Cole’s room. Please don’t tell me he turned that on himself. He drinks so fast he starts to hack. Must’ve gone down the wrong tube. Cole doesn’t even look when he does it, so I assume this is normal.
“Care if I shower?” I ask.
“Yeah, no problem. I’m gonna update the chalkboard. It only takes me a few seconds, so I’ll be back before you finish.”
I step backward, excitement blossoming on my face. “Chalk?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Any way you could bring me some?”
“I guess so, why?” He scrunches his face, scrutinizing me like I’m insane.
“To decorate my cell. It’s starting to get to me.”
“What do you mean decorate? How on earth can you decorate a—never mind. I don’t care,” he says with his hand on the door.
I fold my arms across my chest. “Do they ever come by and check the rooms?”
“No, there’s no reason to. We follow orders or people die. Pretty straightforward, don’t you think?” He walks to his room as his laugh fades.
“Hey,” I say. He sits on his bed and looks up. His facial expression softens and tired lines appear below his eyes. “I never got the chance to thank you.”
“For what?” He pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it on the floor, distracting me with his broad chest. I stutter while staring.
Crap!
“Uh… for saving my life,” I say while crossing my fingers and trying to stay focused on his face. “I know I don’t show it, but I’m grateful… that I have you.” I know—the words shock me as I say them.
“Um, yeah.” His cheeks turn a shade of pale pink. “White or colored?” he asks while searching through his piles of laundry for a new shirt. His back stretches taut, his muscles hardening while sifting around and coming up with a black T-shirt. He quickly puts it on, and I exhale, his shirtless image uncomfortably burned in my memory.