Branded s-1

by Abigail Ketner

  I lean over and whisper in her ear. “I promise I’ll set you free. I don’t know when, but I’ll get you there. I hope I was the friend you needed me to be.”

  I know she isn’t there and she can’t hear me. Maybe those words are to remind myself that I always keep my promises. Either way, she changed my life for the better.

  I close the bag, pat the top of her head, and put my arms under her back. Ben and I lift her small, fragile body placing it onto the table. He repositions her and I step back as he slides her body into place, closes the door, and locks the handle.

  “Damn it. She was just thirteen years old!” I pound my fist into door three. Anger, more explosive than the sun, surges through me. A sob racks my body as I beat my forehead against the door.

  Bang.

  Bang.

  Bang.

  I’ve haven’t endured this kind of pain since my father died. I forgot how intense the emotions are that flow through you when you lose a loved one.

  Ben places his hand on my shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze. He hops onto a table resting his head in his hands. I can’t take it anymore, plus we have to get back. Too much time has elapsed since we left. I stumble out of the room trying to hold myself together. Ben jumps from the table and slowly follows me to the rackety box.

  Once I’m in the elevator, I push number eight. Nothing happens. I slam the button with my fist and still nothing. Ben pushes the red emergency button and presses his ear to the panel.

  “It must be jammed again. The cables aren’t moving at all. Man, I hope it’s not the motor.” He shakes his head. “We just don’t have the money to keep fixing these damn elevators.”

  My patience runs thin and I restrain myself from punching the buttons in frustration. I don’t have time for this. I need to get back before Sutton realizes I’m missing.

  “Is there another way out of here?” I breathe hard like I just ran a race and am having a hard time catching my breath. I need to get out of this forsaken place. I step out, round the corner, and see “STAIRS basement/8 West.”

  Ben follows on my heels, wiping sweat from his forehead and frowning with disapproval. “Please, just wait a few minutes. Let me see if I can get a hold of the repair guys.” He tugs at my wrist in desperation.

  I shrug him off despite his attempt to dissuade me. “No, I need to go now!” Ben raises his hand in opposition, about to open his mouth, but I cut him off. “Please don’t make me kick you in the nuts.”

  He drops his arm to his side, letting me by.

  The door closes behind me with a click, followed by a beep, locking me out of the morgue.

  It takes a minute for my aching eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. The grated stairs make a light strumming noise as I begin my ascent and my palms stick to the tacky, crumbling paint of the railings. One floor, two floors pass before my slipper gets caught on an edge and I tumble forward onto the landing. Crap. Where is it? My fingers shake while feeling around for it. As I place the worn slipper back onto my foot, it starts.

  Thud.

  Thud.

  Thud. Getting closer each time. A flashlight flicks on. I look upward and instantly adrenaline shoots through my veins.

  Through the grated stairs a few flights above me, two silhouettes tap their batons against their hands. My heart beats so rapidly that I can’t hear their voices.

  I inch backward until I’m up against the wall. I look for a door, a person, or anything that can help me. Nothing. Sickness washes over me, but there’s no time to be weak. For the moment, I swallow my fear and take off to the basement. I’m leaping down the stairs when they start calling out.

  “Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Their raucous laughter bounces off the walls and exhilarates my fear. Don’t panic, don’t panic… too late. I’m panicking.

  “Sutton’s on his way!” My voice cracks. I’m not sure they heard me, but I had to try something.

  “Oh, no!” More obnoxious laughter echoes down the staircase. “Isn’t the elevator working?” They ask with sarcasm.

  As they inch closer, I look over my shoulder, and recognize one of them as the guard from the garage. Dread wraps its fingers around my heart. They’re getting closer and I feel like I’m running through quicksand. I want to go faster, but my legs won’t respond. I grab the railing with my right hand, swinging my legs over the bar, and down the next flight of stairs trying to gain some distance.

  “Whore on the loose! Yes! I love this game,” the other guard says. They hop over the railing with ease.

  “Help! Someone help me!” I scream even though I know nobody can hear me.

  “Who the hell would help you?”

  I look up and one flight is all that separates us. As I get closer to the bottom, I notice there’s only one door. You have to be open! Slamming into the door, I turn the handle and bolt through. The stairwell was well lit compared to this. Where to go? Where to hide? At the other end, I spot a window where the sun seeps in. If I can get there, someone might hear me. There’s a light at the end of the tunnel, right? I sprint toward it.

  Tables, beds, and chairs litter my path to safety. Boxes piled upon boxes jam-pack the walls and floors in every crevice. I glance around, trying to find a backup plan. The window is too far and too high for the amount of time I have left. Rushing, I smack into a folding chair and slam to the ground making a loud clanging noise.

  “That was graceful,” he says from behind me.

  I didn’t know they were that close. Out of options, I crawl under an empty cardboard box and await the inevitable. I’m trapped and they know it.

  “Now it’s a game of hide-and-seek. You’re making this way too enjoyable.”

  Banging and crashing noises tell me they’re digging for me. I’m shaking so hard I’m sure they can tell what box I’m hiding under. A guard kicks boxes and throws chairs out of his way. Please don’t kick me. In the midst of the noise, I lose track of the other guard but don’t dare look. It becomes silent. They are going to kill me. It’s over.

  They rip the box off me and I lunge to get away. A blow lands on the back of my head with a sickening crack and searing pain overpowers my senses. Hands grip my arms and I’m flung into a pile of chairs that clatter to the floor underneath me. They drag me to the other side of the room as the blood drenching my hair leaves a trail behind. My head is yanked up and I’m forced to look into the steel, cold eyes of the guard from the garage.

  “Thought you could get away, didn’t you?” He orders the other guard, “Hold her down.”

  I kick with force, managing to free an arm, and rake my fingernails down his face, tearing his skin. Furious, he lands a blow across my cheek and sends me back to reality. I don’t stand a chance.

  “I said hold her down!”

  He pins me, wraps a piece of cloth around my head and through my mouth to muffle my screams. Then he climbs on top of me.

  At first, I glue my thighs shut as he tries to pry them apart, but then he punches me so hard I see flashes of light. He sends his fist into my gut, knocking the wind out of me. My body goes limp, and he spreads my legs as I gasp for breath. His hands explore me like clay being modeled, tracing every curve and inch of my skin.

  I cringe with every touch. His hands are rough like sandpaper and I feel disgusting, repulsive, and dirty in every way possible. Everything that belonged to me has been taken away, and now my purity will be plundered as well.

  I’m humiliated.

  I’m violated.

  I’m treated like the scum of the earth, and they’re proud.

  He slaps me across the face. “Look at me.” He drools over his words.

  No, please God.

  His eyes are alight with ecstasy. He whips out a knife and slices my shirt to shreds. I squirm and buck, but his solid form remains immovable. He turns to the other guard.

  “You can have your turn when I’m finished…”

  The other guard grins, sweat dripping down his face and staining the starch collar of hi
s shirt. His hands squeeze my arms tighter, but nothing compares to the splitting pain in my head.

  I gain strength for one last push but to no avail. I have nothing left.

  He throws an elbow across my face, jarring my brain sideways, and the room goes pitch-black for a second. He unbuckles his belt and loosens his pants.

  “That’s it. Give in. Let it happen.”

  He moves his mouth over my ear and neck as I thrash my head side to side. If I didn’t have this gag on, I’d bite his ugly face off.

  “Ah, damn you!” He grabs a fist full of my hair and yanks, provoking a horrific scream from the depths of my chest. The sound is muffled through the gag, but I’m desperate. A chill of pure sickness runs down my spine. He wraps his hands around my neck pretending to strangle me and then smacks me across the face.

  “I like it rough in case you wondered.” He moves his hands down, eventually resting on my thighs, and grips them.

  My head spins, my eyes burn with fear, my ears ring, and my heart is being torn to shreds. Heat crawls upward from my toes to my head.

  Then everything turns black.

  * * *

  “Open your eyes. Damn it! Open them!” I recognize the voice but can’t move. “I can’t stop the bleeding. Zeus, go! Now go!” His voice sounds panicky.

  Zeus? I know that name but can’t conjure an image. I’m so tired. Just let me sleep. A soft material covers me and something is tied around my head before I’m lifted into the air. Blackness overtakes me again.

  Dreams and images pass through me like a slideshow. My father hugs me securely with his strong arms directing me toward the light. My brother, with his wild smile, climbs trees in our backyard. My mother, before she remarried, when she was young and full of vitality. She sits at her bureau, brushing her long dark hair. Alyssa smiles brightly with her makeup newly done. Cole, even he’s there. The first time I met him, riding in his Jeep then watching him sleep in his cot for the last few nights. Memorizing the contours of his strong face. Our shared quarters with the walls decorated. I haven’t finished them yet. Zeus runs in his goofy way, making me laugh with his silly antics. Sunshine. Flowers. The guards, their ugly faces in the dim staircase, chasing me. My head. It hurts so much. My stepfather, whispering, lies next to me in my bed. Forcing me to wear clothes I hated, forcing me to lie to everyone, drugging my mother into an addict. Uglier images—people running on the filthy streets, screaming obscenities, brandings. Darkness. Hatred. I’m a cauldron of hate.

  CHAPTER 9

  A familiar smell wakes me, but my eyes are crusted shut, and every move sends searing pain through my entire being. My lungs allow only shallow breaths as I look around. I’m alive. I’m in Cole’s room on his thick mattress, covered in heavy blankets. It smells like vanilla and Old Spice. Zeus snores at my feet, and Cole rests on the floor beside me. What’s he doing here? It’s barely dawn it seems. My brain feels scrambled and confused. My tendons crack as I slowly push upward and the pain blurs my vision.

  “Hey—” I jump, and look at Cole whose eyes are open, staring at me. “It’s just me. You’re safe now.”

  His warm hand grabs mine, but I pull away. His face looks pained with his jaw clenched tight and his lips pursed. I feel like I got hit by a train. I strain myself, trying to remember how I got back to our quarters. And what condition I was in. It’s too soon to speculate though, and I lay my throbbing head back down. He stands over me in an instant, scrutinizing my every bruise, looking troubled as he chews on his bottom lip. He grabs a phone and dials.

  “Yes. Can I speak with Sutton? Okay. She’s awake. Sure, please come over,” he says. I meet his gaze with humiliation. Then I rip my eyes away, unable to vocalize how damaged I feel.

  “I’m so sorry about this. I—”

  “Stop please. I don’t want to talk about it. Not now,” I say. “When did you get a phone?”

  “Sutton gave me one for when you woke up. He wants to see you as soon as possible. He’s worried, and frankly, so am I.” His hand rests gently on my arm and I look at Zeus who sleeps at my feet. Blood mars his fur and he has a gash above his eye. My head pounds against my skull.

  “Are you all right? What can I do? Need a drink?”

  His questions overwhelm me. My hand reaches up and feels a bandage wrapped around my entire head. My hair clumps together and dry blood flakes onto my shoulders. My mouth feels swollen. I lick my lips and feel two stitches on my right bottom lip. Three more stitches line the inside of my cheek. I can’t remember what happened clearly. Closing my eyes, the memories resurface of taking Alyssa’s body to the morgue and getting attacked by the guards. A whimper escapes me.

  “Shhh, stop. You’re safe now. I promise,” Cole says. He sees the panic cross my face.

  “How—how did I get here?” I stammer.

  “I found you. Well, Zeus found you, and we brought you here.” He stops, lowering his eyes.

  “The guards who… who… were there—”

  “We took care of them,” he says before I finish.

  “Oh.” I nod my head. The pounding behind my eyes increases and I groan. I don’t bother asking what he saw or how I ended up in new clothes. I feel humiliated enough.

  “Lexi, they didn’t—they didn’t finish. We caught them before it happened. I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I thought you should know that. I’m so very sorry. I’ll never forgive myself for leaving you, for missing Alyssa. I wish I could change that. I do.” His kind eyes plead for forgiveness as he talks.

  “Cole, I don’t blame you. It’s not your fault that this place warps people.” I comfort him when I feel like a shipwreck, aimlessly navigating the waters. “You tried to warn me.” What an idiot I was for not listening to him and then ignoring Sutton and Ben.

  “You’re just saying that to make me feel better, but I don’t. This whole mess is my fault. When I got those orders, everything within me fought against leaving. And now, look at you.” Yeah, that makes me feel better.

  “Will you get into trouble?” I don’t want him to grovel anymore.

  “I don’t think so. No one knows but Sutton. He helped me take care of the bodies so I doubt anyone will find out,” he says with confidence.

  “Won’t the other guards notice?”

  “They’ll notice, but they’ll never know. The back stairs aren’t monitored, so they can only guess what happened and with all the violence in the Hole, it’s nothing new. Anyway, I’m betting most of the guards will assume those guys took off,” he says.

  “That’s good,” I mumble, staring toward the window.

  “How are you feeling? Forget about me.” He leans closer, taking my limp hands into his strong warm grip.

  “I hurt,” is all I can say to describe my physical and emotional pain.

  “God, I’m sorry…” he says, his eyes downcast. “If I could rewind time I would—” I cover his mouth with my hand to silence him.

  “Cole, I’m only here because of you and Zeus. It just might take me some time to heal.” If I ever heal from this.

  Someone knocks softly on the door and Cole hurries to answer it. Sutton drops a chart and it clatters to the ground when he sees me. The noise rattles my brain and I close my eyes. I’m sure my injuries look worse than they feel, which is pretty bad.

  His hair reminds me of a bird’s nest. His clothes are as wrinkled as a rippled potato chip and his glasses slip sideways off his nose. Something is seriously wrong with this man.

  “My God, am I glad to see you’re awake,” Sutton says as he sits down beside me.

  “Oh, Sutton, I’m so sorry. I should’ve listened to you.”

  Sutton grabs my hand and I blink back my tears. Without warning, Cole slams his chair back and leaves the room. His exit confuses me, but I focus on Sutton. His face brings me comfort.

  “You’re safe now and that’s all that matters. No one is to blame here, especially you. Cole is very angry with himself, and the sight of you tore him to shreds. Of course… he blames
himself. That’s who he is. Just give him time and don’t worry about him. You need to worry about recovering now anyway,” Sutton says as if reading my mind. “You took quite the beating. You cracked your skull, and I had to clean out some bone fragments. Sorry about shaving your hair. There was no way around that. I had to clean the wound and then I stapled you shut. You need to take antibiotics for ten days to help insure no infection sets in. Other than that, you’ll heal just fine, my dear.” I know he’s witnessed worse crimes in the Hole, but his face shows genuine concern. He adjusts the pillow behind me and leans me forward to assess the rest of my injuries.

  He pushes the chair away from Zeus and it dawns on me—Zeus didn’t follow Cole. He stayed with me. This dog has officially won me over.

  I reach my hand toward the end of the bed and feel Zeus’s wet tongue meet my fingers. I take my arm away and pat the spot next to me. Zeus crawls up next to me and lies against my side. His body takes over half the space on the bed, but I don’t mind. Sutton’s eyes almost bug out of his head.

  “Uhhh, I’m not sure that’s the best idea.” I raise my eyebrows at him in a challenge and he lets it go without saying anything more. He leans over and squeezes my shoulders.

  “You shouldn’t go anywhere without Cole. Is that clear, young lady? When Cole trains, I’ll arrange to have another guard that I personally trust to monitor your safety.”

  “What about work? How will you explain my disappearance for a week?”

  “I’ll forge the paperwork. It’s not the first time and won’t be the last time. Trust me,” he says.

  “I don’t know that I trust anyone.” A wave of guilt overrides my anger when I realize that Cole and Sutton are the only reason I’m still alive. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” Sutton’s compassionate eyes meet mine and he carefully pats my hand.

  “Look, I know this is hard. It tore me to pieces to find you in the shape that you’re in, but you have to trust me. I’ll take care of the details. Cole’s life and yours are at stake. He could be executed for his part in this.” He continues, “The few guards who have protection orders have no room for error. On top of that, he killed other guards to save you. Do you understand what I’m telling you?” He pauses with raised eyebrows in expectation. “You think this is bad, and it is, but it can always get worse in here.” I can see the seriousness in his eyes over the rim of his glasses.