Cole returns with a pen and a piece of paper. He sits back down and slides them across the table.
“Where’d you go?” I ask.
“The guards have a station on each floor for reporting purposes… Now can I start?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes.”
I try to steady my hand while I write, but the letters look like a third grader wrote them. I can’t stop wondering why, out of all things, he chose to be a guard. I bet it’s the control, but I’ll never ask.
He tells me there’s no public transportation within the Hole. He explains how the buses take the sinners to high-speed trains that transport them to their jobs if their jobs are up north in High Society or farther away. However, very few people are authorized to come and go freely—none of which are sinners, of course. The majority of the population is branded red, black, or yellow. He says the blue tend to die off quickly, either from suicide, disease, or murder. Orange keep to themselves and green hangs out with purple. Stay away from all reds—no matter what.
He tells me that the gangs are growing, violence is increasing, and everyone’s starving. Some areas are safer than others, but pretty much everywhere is dangerous, especially for me.
I absorb every disturbing detail. Children born here are forced to live the remainder of their lives in the Hole. The commander believes they carry the blood of sinners within them and, therefore, don’t deserve to leave.
I drop my pen on the table.
He huffs a heavy sigh. “Now what?” I feel him shift in his chair.
“How could anyone be so cruel?”
“Forceful is putting it lightly. Then again, if he weren’t, you’d think he was soft enough to try and escape, right?”
I shake my head. “I just don’t understand why you’d want to join the guards.” After the sentence slips out, I clench my teeth in expectation of his response.
Will he lash out and hit me or will he finally rip me to shreds?
He gives me a hard look and avoids my question. “Can I finish?”
“Yeah, go ahead.” I lean back and cross my legs at my ankles. “But I have one more question.”
“Seriously?” he asks.
“Are all sinners treated equally?”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you protecting me?”
“That I can’t answer.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Both,” he says. “I was ordered to watch you, and that’s what I’m doing. There’s nothing more to tell. Now please shut up and let me finish.”
He tells me all the rules without any personality. His monotone voice flips through the pages. No this. No that. No one but the guards has rights here. Trudging through all the details of my new arrangement takes all of the morning, afternoon, and part of the evening. He shows me maps of the Hole and the hospital, which stands in the center of this monstrosity. He writes out my schedule for the week, which consists of my cell, work, and back to my cell. The Hole runs just like a prison but without bars to hold everyone in place. He says the commander believes the judicial system that used to exist was full of flaws and a waste of time.
“After all, it’s easier and cheaper to keep everyone in one location,” Cole says.
I totally disagree.
“You should just kill me. You have a gun, and no one would care.”
“Lexi.” I feel his eyes on me. “What’s wrong with you? You think I want to kill you?”
“I’m a waste of your time.”
“My job is to protect you, not kill you.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
“Without me you’d be dead, so yes, for whatever reason, I am.”
I’m not sure what he means by that, but I’m done asking questions today.
I lower my eyes to the table, feeling shame mixed with despair. I’ll never get out of here. Either he’ll be with me or some crazy person will do worse to me in the streets.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice is shaky with an edge of desperation. “I thought we already established that.”
“Sorry.” I stand and smooth out my shirt. “May I go back to my cell for a minute?” Tears sit on the rims of my eyes, and I pretend to rub them when I’m really trying to keep from crying.
“Sure.” He gives me a conflicted look and then rips his gaze away.
I head back to my empty room and cover my mouth with my shirt as the tears spill out. My circumstances seem so dismal.
Yet there’s got to be hope, right? Cole said he didn’t want to hurt me.
Zeus lies down next to me and nudges my elbow. I slide away from him, spying his silly sideways expression and smile.
Is he trying to comfort me?
Cole calls from his room. “As soon as I’m ready, we’ll head over to the hospital. You have to be familiar with the building. I won’t be with you when you’re working so you need to know what to expect,” he says from the doorway. “Would you come back so I don’t have to yell?”
“Where will you be?” I grudgingly return to his room.
“Training.” He opens the safe and straps two handguns onto his side. His dark-gray uniform emphasizes his muscular build, and he catches me staring.
Trying to pass it off, I move forward but nosedive to the floor. Did I seriously just trip over the dog? Wow. I roll onto my back. He offers his hand and pulls me upright with a smug look. I groan as embarrassment crawls up my face in the form of a deep, crimson flush.
“Now look. Whatever you do, stay on my inside. I have to know where you are at all times. Don’t wander off. Follow me, walk, and breathe.” He starts to move toward the door when he stops suddenly. He looks closely at me then rummages through his bag. He hands me a pair of sunglasses with large, reflective lenses that look like they will swallow half my face. “Take these and wear them outside.” His voice is callous and indicative of his training. The tough-guy persona grates on my nerves. “Do you think you can handle that?”
“Sure, no problem,” I say, remembering the last time we ventured out. After clarifying those details, we depart down the dark corridor.
Holding my shirt over my nose, I brace for the stench of the decomposing body, but it’s been moved.
Thank God.
The courtyard’s full of people. I get shoved from my left side, knocking me off-balance. They smack, push, and yank while trying to get on the old dirty work buses that take them to their jobs each day. How on earth do those things still work? They look like wrecked sheet metal on wheels.
I walk beside Cole, and Zeus follows.
Turning toward the hospital, I feel the weight of multiple eyes resting on my back. People stare at me, or us—I’m not sure. Catcalls and whispers from citizens distract me. I duck my head and keep my eyes lowered to avoid attention.
“Nice disguise. Too bad you can’t disguise she’s a whore.” A man emerges from the shadows in the alley with a knife in hand. He licks his lips, making my skin crawl. He reaches out to grab my arm when Zeus growls, low and menacing, at him. The man pulls back and raises his knife, but Zeus doesn’t back down. He shows no fear. His hair stands up straight on his back and runs along his spine.
In one swift motion, the man cuts his knife through the air, narrowly missing the dog. Zeus jumps on him with a violent bark and shakes the knife out of his hand. His jagged canines dig in deep and force a cry out of the man lying on the ground. Cole picks up the knife and puts it at the man’s neck.
“Come near her again and I’ll slice your throat.”
A mixture of fear and bitter resentment cross the man’s bearded face. Cole removes the knife, leaving the man to crawl away. He turns toward Zeus and rubs between his ears.