Branded

by Abi Ketner

  “You actually keep records here?” I ask.

  “Not exactly.”

  He leads me down the main hallway, and I count ten doors as we pass. He reads the expression on my face.

  “One patient per room,” he explains. “No such thing as having a roommate here. It’s safer that way.”

  Luxury in the Hole. That’s a first.

  The rooms are identical with one mattress on a wooden frame that’s supposed to resemble a bed and a simple bedside table. A chair sits in the opposite corner near a four-drawer chest made from corkboard and a bathroom you can almost stand in. White industrial-grade tiles with small specks of color line the floors with multiple cracks and warping. No light. Just a candle.

  “This is the soiled linen closet that you’ll get acquainted with. It’s your new best friend.” He opens the door and lets me look inside. “All new personnel start here.”

  Two guards, in their typical stiff uniforms, walk toward us. They nod at Sutton as they stroll by. As he turns to speak, one of them winks at me.

  “There’re always guards coming and going. You have to be on your toes at all times,” he says as if he knows what happened behind his back. He swipes his badge, and we reenter his office. “The guards are cocky and will give you a hard time because they can. They have no boundaries, even in the hospital. Just watch your back.”

  He sits at his desk and leans back.

  “Everything on this floor is under surveillance. The back staircase is the only exception. Years ago, the cameras were damaged and fixing them isn’t within our budget. There’s no way in or out of the building from those stairs. You can go to the basement or the morgue—all of which are dead ends.” He pauses and says with a laugh, “Not a very upbeat orientation, is it?”

  I smile. “No.”

  Finally, someone with a sense of humor.

  I can’t remember the last time I smiled.

  “Did you pick me or was I assigned to you?” I ask, remembering my earlier conversation with Cole.

  “To tell you the truth, I don’t know what their methods are,” he says as he pulls something out of his desk. “Your keys.” He throws them to me.

  I catch them with both hands, losing my balance and falling off my chair.

  “Well, that was graceful. Are you all right?” He offers me his hand, and I take it. “Do you have any questions for me?”

  “Nothing I can think of off the top of my head,” I reply, even though I’m dying to know why he’s been so nice to me. I dust myself off and try to pretend I didn’t just make a fool out of myself again.

  For rest of the day, I shadow a nurse’s aide and get to know the basics of patient care. By the time seven rolls around, my feet throb. These slippers have no soles and no arch support. My shirt sticks to my skin, and my hair is plastered to my neck.

  Cole and Zeus arrive at the nurse’s station. Cole talks to one of the female nurses and smiles his crooked smile. His dark eyes catch mine for a quick moment, but that’s the only acknowledgement he gives.

  Nauseous much? I can totally see him being a man whore.

  “Talk to you later,” he says to the redhead.

  “I’m looking forward to it.” She grins and flips her hair.

  Oh barf.

  He silently leads me out of the hospital. We’re back in the alley with Zeus in front this time. The sun sets in brilliant hues across the sky, but the tall silhouettes of the buildings obscure my view. Now and then, we run into a beggar. Cole ignores them like he does the discarded furniture we step around, but one in particular haunts me. On his neck, he’s branded red.

  Wrath.

  “Can you spare some change, ma’am?” he asks.

  “I don’t have any money,” I say.

  Cole yanks my arm, but not before I hear the beggar say, “I know you’re innocent. Your eyes—”

  I stop and turn back, about to question him, when a loud bang rattles my brain. Something warm splashes my face. I wipe it off with my hand, which is now streaked with red.

  Blood.

  CHAPTER 4

  Cole shoves me to the ground, forcing a grunt out of my mouth as he lands on my back. My ribcage feels crushed under his weight. Bullets kick up dirt in patches around us and ricochet off the walls. Looking up, I see the beggar crumple. Blood pours from holes in his torso, and a vacant expression is plastered on his worn face. My stomach lurches at the violence of the shooting. We lay there for a few minutes as more shots are fired and a troop of guards sprints past. We wait.

  “Crap,” Cole says under his breath. A group of sinners flood the entryway. Some carry crowbars and sunlight glints off the others’ knives. Zeus charges toward them.

  “You have to run!”

  “What?”

  “Run! Now!” Cole points in the direction we were heading. “Go!”

  I turn and run.

  The streets all look the same. I bolt down the alley and sprint past a series of dead bodies. I have no idea what I’m doing, where to run, and why I think I can get there without getting killed first.

  “Get her!”

  Their words bounce off the walls and echo in my ears. I don’t look back when I reach the end of the alley. Left looks like it takes me down more narrow alleys, but right looks like it takes me back to where Cole is.

  “Now what?” I say aloud. Frustrated and afraid, I tangle my hands in my hair. I wish I had Cole’s map with me now. Just then, someone pushes me from behind. I should’ve sensed danger when the noise around me ceased. I turn, and a group of sinners encloses me.

  I’m trapped.

  I can’t breathe.

  I can’t stop my head from spinning or the panic whizzing through my mind.

  I’m petrified.

  I see a red, a black, and maybe three green brands closing in on me. My heart pounds in my throat at the thought of them killing me. Should I plead for them to make it quick or will that just make it worse? I’m about to scream when one smiles. His eyes linger a little too long.

  Oh please, no!

  “Where do you think you’re going?” asks the tallest man.

  Laughter erupts behind him. “What are you waiting for, Sarge? Get her,” another says.

  I clench my fists, unsure whether I should fight to my last breath or give in to their demands. The ending seems inevitable either way. My eyes flood and the men become blurry. I squeeze them shut, rub, and pry them open.

  “Hello, dear,” Sarge says with a smile, stepping closer.

  There’s a gap where his two front teeth used to be, and his tongue protrudes, resting on his lower lip. He loosens his belt, yanks it off, and holds it like a whip.

  He’s going to publicly humiliate me.

  As if I haven’t already been branded.

  My legs buckle and I plunge to the ground. Blood rushes through my veins like a rapid river, and I’m drowning in fear.

  I’m frantic.

  “Leave me alone! Please. Leave me alone.” I place my hands defensively in front of me, backing myself up as far as I can.

  He pushes me to my back and leans over me. I kick at his chest.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Spit flies out of his mouth, landing on my cheek. “It will only make me angry. And trust me, you don’t want me angry.” He slaps his belt into his opposite hand and lets it unravel for the full effect. “This is what loose women deserve.”

  I don’t move.

  I won’t move.

  I can’t move.

  But this is my only chance.

  I shove my thigh into his groin, causing him to fall over on his side.

  I jump to my feet and at the same time, he grabs my ankle. “Help!” I scream, hoping someone will rescue me, but they stand there with blank faces. “Somebody help me!” I shake my leg as hard as I possibly can, but he never loosens his grip.

  “You stupid twit.” Sarge grabs my other leg from underneath me and pulls, slamming my body onto the ground and instantly knocking the wind from my lungs
. “Now I’m going to cut your throat.”

  He sits on top of my chest and startles me to my senses.

  I gasp.

  His knees hold down my arms and he flips out his blade.

  I’m pinned.

  I’m horrified and frozen under his control. I close my eyes and hold my breath. Make it quick… Make it quick.

  “Sarge, get up, man! Now!” someone screams.

  My eyes snap open.

  The crowd scatters.

  Sarge looks up. “Oh my G—”

  Out of nowhere, Zeus flies through the air, plowing him over while wrapping his mouth around his throat. Sarge swings his arms and kicks his legs to no avail. Zeus jolts his neck.

  I hear a snap.

  Instantly, Sarge’s body hangs limp.

  Just as I’m about to scream, Cole plants himself beside me.

  “Go. Now!”

  Cole pushes me down just as a bullet flies past my head. He grabs my arm and drags me along behind him. My ankle screams at me to stop, but I keep running forward. The sound of feet pounding the dirt gets louder, the chanting gets closer, and the firing of weapons in rapid succession makes my brain feel like it’s hemorrhaging. I know this has to do with us.

  “Why are they after us?” I shout between breaths.

  Cole doesn’t respond. He just keeps running. I look over my shoulder and see people bolting to shelter and screaming, leaping away from the men who rush toward us as they pistol whip the ones who refuse to move.

  Cole yanks me away from the main street and heads toward the hospital down another alleyway. Every building has boarded-up windows. The doors hang off their rusty hinges and glass crunches under our feet as we run. It screams death.

  Cole turns abruptly.

  “They’re after you!” He exhales.

  “Then why are they trying to kill you?”

  “I’m in their way.”

  “But you’re a guard—”

  He yanks my arms and we’re running again.

  I guess they don’t care about that either. Psychos.

  We dart down all the alleys we come across, going up one, down the next, and across the other. I’m guessing Cole’s trying to throw them off course or confuse them as much as he possibly can.

  My ankle burns and I feel it pop. “Cole!”

  He comes to a complete halt, turns to me, and meets me on the ground.

  “What’s wrong?” He looks behind me.

  I gasp for air and Cole pulls me behind an overflowing dumpster. His breathing is unlabored, but he drips buckets of sweat.

  “My ankle…” is all I can muster.

  He puts his fingers under my chin and tilts my head back until we’re eye to eye.

  “I want you to trust me. Can you do that?”

  “I already do,” I say.

  I can’t believe I just said that. I don’t trust anyone.

  Cole grabs my waist and flips me into his arms, taking off down the same alley we just traversed. His arms are strong, secure, and wrapped around my small frame, and I’m glued to his torso. I tuck my face into his neck, hiding from this sick world.

  “Wrap your arms around my neck.” And I do as he says. “Tighter.”

  I squeeze.

  “Too tight.” He chokes.

  I relax. He boosts me higher, closer, and my forehead rests against his ear.

  I close my eyes.

  He runs.

  I hold on.

  A new anxiety overwhelms me.

  I don’t want them to hurt Cole—not because of me.

  “Just leave me,” I whisper into his ear. “I won’t let you die trying to save me. I’m a sinner. Let them have me.”

  “Never,” he says in a short gasp.

  The gunshots come from behind, but I can tell they’re far from us now. Cole seems to know this place by heart because he never second-guesses his next step. I wonder if he ever had to do this for anyone else.

  Or am I his first?

  “Hide here.” He drops me to my feet in front of a cellar door. “I’ll be right back.”

  And just like that, he disappears, sprinting farther and farther away. I creep into the cellar and close the door behind me. Zeus decides to stay with me, and I’m okay with that. He’s proved his loyalty.

  I listen for movement where Zeus and I hide, but I hear nothing.

  Before I know it, the door swings open, but with the lighting, I can’t make out who the person is. I hyperventilate.

  “Lexi. It’s me,” Cole says, his voice low as he approaches. “I want you to keep breathing, just like I am.” He grabs my hands and beckons me to inhale and exhale when he does. I hear the voices getting closer again. His sweaty hands drop mine and I can tell that his attention is directed toward the alley we just ran down. “We have to move.” He throws me onto his back. “Wrap your legs and arms around me. It’s the easiest way to hold you.” I cling to his neck, locking my ankles together above his hips. “Now, hold on.” He sprints down the alley.

  He comes to a sudden halt and drops me to my feet. In front of us stands a chain-link fence. “Can you climb this?”

  “I’ll try.” I climb, ignoring the constant throbbing in my ankle as I make my way to the top. I swing my leg over at the bar and start my descent, letting myself drop the last foot to the ground, and land on one leg to spare my opposite ankle any more damage. I look up, but Cole’s nowhere to be found. My heart races.

  “I’m right here.” I turn and he stands parallel to me.

  “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.