Sinners 01 - Branded (4 page)

We come to an intersection. I turn my head to the right, and men with no shirts lick
me up and down with their eyes like I’m a fillet, ready to eat. To my left, brightly
painted and scantily clad women summon Cole. They clap as I walk past.

“What diseases do you have?” they ask me. I ignore them, keeping my eyes forward.
“How many have you screwed?” The women sneer. They laugh at my obvious discomfort.

I trip over an empty bottle, but Cole grabs me before I fall. His touch refocuses
me.

“Watch where you’re going,” he says while glancing at me. “Look straight ahead and
don’t pay attention to them.”

I wish I could be so confident.

A massive building with a clean façade appears through the dusty cloud in front of
us. It towers over the other buildings, making it an easy landmark. Vehicles pull
through a checkpoint in the back. Small groups of people loiter outside, smoking and
talking. It’s almost normal, except for the armed men in black mounted on the rooftops.

“That’s the hospital. Where you’ll be working,” Cole says. “All citizens of the Hole
are required to work. I’ll escort you there and back. You can’t miss a day of work
unless you’re on your deathbed, understood?” He glares at me.

“Yes. I understand,” I whisper.

We walk for what feels like an eternity and my feet throb. I’m not sure I can make
it much farther.
Stupid slippers. What I’d give to have my sneakers back.
I gaze upward, and the bright azure sky makes a striking comparison to life below.
I didn’t know conditions like this existed.

“See the building over there?” he says as he runs his hand over his head to wipe away
the sweat. “That’s your new home.”

He opens a door in a fence interlaced with barbed wire. People lounge around outside,
staring as he leads me in. The citizens outside the building look fairly normal despite
their brandings, but I’m still wary of looking at them too long. They banter with
each other while negotiating over a bag of what looks like trash.

Cigarette smoke burns my eyes. Squinting, I follow Cole through the courtyard and
into the building.

Yellow paint chips off the rough-textured wall. It smells like mold, mildew, and stinky
feet. A dead body lies propped against the wall inside the doorway. The man’s clothing
hangs in tatters, and the bright red tattoo on his neck sags from years of malnutrition.
My hand moves to cover my nose and mouth as I gurgle on bile. Before I can look away,
a maggot squirms out of his nose.

“Oh my—”

“Get used to it.” Cole shrugs his shoulder.

I’ll never get used to that.

He cracks his knuckles and keeps walking. I’m pretty sure I hit my threshold for gore
and my stomach lurches.

The walls, floors, and ceilings are black except for a few remaining yellow splotches.
Cole flips on a flashlight and the dim light focuses briefly on a rat as it crawls
across our path. I clench my jaw and feel ahead with my hands, guessing where to step
next.

“Why is it dark?” I ask.

“Shhhh.”

I hate the dark.

The doors are numbered but completely out of order. My breaths echo in the hallway
and I feel like a glass vase falling to the concrete floor about to shatter.

One.

Two.

Three flights.
Good. I’m afraid of heights.

One.

Two doors to the right #91116.

Cole unlocks the door, which creaks on its hinges, and gestures me to follow. The
darkness prompts him to tug on the delicate chain in the center of the cell. The light
intermittently reveals the stacked cinder-block walls that make up my small room.
I lean against the door to catch my breath when a spider drops in front of my face,
forcing a blood-curdling scream from my lungs.

He slaps his hand over my mouth. “Stop it! Just because you’re behind a locked door
doesn’t mean you’re safe.” He pulls his hand away and lowers it to his side.

I nod, fearful of his touch, but more afraid of my new neighbors. He steps back and
smashes the spider between his hands.

Breathe, just breathe.

The musty smell makes me cough.

A thin mattress lies in the right corner, nearest to me, but no other furniture exists.
A surveillance camera is mounted next to a metal doorway. Rodent droppings line the
wall along the left side, and just the thought of their feet skittering over me at
night gives me chills. Waves of heat roll over my body and I teeter, accidentally
touching the filthy wall. I pull my hand away to discover a thick layer of grime.

“That’s your bathroom,” he says, pointing at the curtain alongside the back right
corner. I pull it aside and find a cracked porcelain toilet with a matching sink.
The rusted showerhead dangles from the wall, framed in black mold.

Perfect, I can shower and use the restroom at the same time.

“Really, the commander shouldn’t have been so generous.” Bitterness drips from my
laugh. I know I shouldn’t mock anything right now, especially in his company, but
I feel so overwhelmed I’ve lost the ability to be rational. Cole remains quiet, but
something like mischief plays in his eyes.

“Are you hungry?” He sounds concerned, but maybe my mind is beginning to play tricks
on me.

“No, not at all.”

“You should eat when it’s offered. Most people have to scrounge for it, so consider
yourself lucky,” he says as he crosses the room.

“I’m far from lucky.” I collapse on the scrawny mattress and let my hair explode out
of my ponytail. My body aches. I pull my pant legs up to inspect the scrapes while
kicking off the thin slippers. “You can leave now.” My fingers scratch at the dry
blood; then I lie back on my mattress.

“That’s not gonna happen. For the next forty-eight hours you’re on suicide watch.”

He’s too close to me, so I sit upright. “What?”

“I can’t leave you alone,” he says.

“As if coming here isn’t bad enough. I’m already on the camera, so what difference
does it make? And why do they care if I die?” I say directly into the camera.

He throws his bag into the corner of the room and takes off his boots.

“And don’t worry. I have no desire to touch you, so don’t get your panties all twisted.”
He stands across from me with his arms folded over his chest. I really wish I had
something to throw at him.

“What I’d really like is a shower. Would you mind leaving me alone for that?”

“Yes,” he says. “Actually, I do mind. Orders are orders.”

Man, this guy is full of himself.
They’re purposely torturing me.

He opens the metal door on the right side of my quarters to an adjoining room. He
flicks on two lights which cast their brightness into my space. I lean forward from
my mattress and attempt to peek inside, but he leaves the door cracked only a few
inches. It looks very simple, but much cleaner than my quarters.

“Is that your room?” I ask.

“Yes,” he says while looking around the corner at me. My discomfort hits an all-time
high.

This crosses the line.
Placing my head in my hands, I shake it with disbelief.

“What’s your problem?” he asks.

I give him a skeptical look. “Nothing.”

“Be thankful you aren’t on the street where you belong.” His harsh tone sends prickles
up my spine.

He thinks I’m a whore, too.

As I wallow in pity, I notice a stray ribbon of sunlight peeking through a window
next to the bathroom in my room. Eager for natural light and wanting to see outside,
I pull the dusty blinds away and use my forearm to clear a small circle in the filth.
From here, I can see people loitering around the building and women standing on the
corner two blocks down.

“Are the women on the corner prostitutes?” I read about it before but never thought
it existed until I arrived.

“Yes. That’s their job.” He picks at a fingernail, standing in the doorway with the
door cracked, like it’s not a big deal.

“That’s terrible. Do they get paid?”

“In a way. You’re lucky you weren’t chosen for that detail.”

“I’m not sure luck exists here.” I push away from the window. My body trembles from
all the emotions of today, and I need rest.

“Tomorrow we’ll go over all the details and I’ll show you around,” he says. “You should
clean up and try to rest.”

I nod, unable to speak.

At his suggestion, I venture over to my metal sink. I pull the dirty curtain aside
and turn on the faucet. After a high-pitched screeching noise that sounds like fingernails
on a chalkboard, cold water spills out, and it’s the best feeling I’ve had in days.
I splash my face, my cuts, and my neck and then furiously wash my arms.

I glance at the small, cracked mirror mounted above the sink and see a stranger. My
hair flies around in an untamed mess, and the soot from the street makes my face unrecognizable
except for the turquoise of my eyes. Blood and dirt form a thick paste on my skin,
so I scrub it raw. When finished, I wipe my hands on my clothes. I turn and catch
Cole watching.

I snap my head back around as fear pulses through me with the weight of his dark eyes
on me. Any moment, he could try to take advantage of the situation, so I tread carefully.

“I’m not going to kill myself.” I raise my hands, palms facing him, as if claiming
innocence. Cole shakes his head, puts his hands in his pockets, and remains where
he is.

“Don’t you have a wife, girlfriend, or someone to go home to?” I ask, trying to make
light conversation.

“Come on, you know better than that.” He raises his eyebrow. “Do I really have to
spell it out for you?”

“Oh, right,” I say. I watch him for a response, but he says nothing. I should know
the hardest and most proficient guards work in here. I can’t imagine working here
and not becoming desensitized to the violence.

I hope I never become like that.

A muffled whine escapes Cole’s room and a bewildered expression crosses his face as
we lock eyes.

“Is there someone in your room?”

“No.” He slams the door closed behind him. Sensing irritability on his part, I let
the subject drop. I lie down on the mattress, curling into a ball. He fidgets in my
room, fumbles for the door, and leaves it ajar. I’m pretending to be asleep when he
leaves. He turns off my light, but I know there’s no way I’ll sleep tonight.

*   *   *

I must’ve passed out at some point because when I wake, I’m on my stomach and my neck
cramps from the lack of a pillow. So I readjust, turning my face to the other side.
A warm breath hits my face, tickling my nose.

I freeze.

Clinking of metal inches from my face, followed by the scraping of nails on the wall
causes me to panic. Thinking it might be a rat, I sit up in a flash and try swatting
it away. But it’s bigger and doesn’t move.

My heart pounds and I’m unsure what to do.

It can’t be Cole.

I panic. I reach around, feeling for anything I can use to protect myself. Nothing,
of course… I have nothing.

“HELP!”

The very instant I scream, the beast starts to howl.

“Zeus, shut up,” Cole yells as he crashes into my room. He flicks on the light, and
that’s when I completely lose it.

Jumping back in the corner, I yank my legs in and squeeze them tight to my chest.
I can’t breathe; my lungs won’t expand. My eyes open wide with fear. The monster stops
howling and looks at me with his big brown eyes. His pointed ears stand at attention,
and his sharp teeth shine in the dim moonlight.

“Zeus, what the hell’s your problem?” Cole yells. “I told you not to leave my room,
you—ah, whatever.” He grabs the silver chain around Zeus’s neck and pulls him off
my mat. The creature’s claws scrape along the floor as Cole drags him back. “Sit!
And stay there before I kill you.” Cole leans down and snaps his fingers before my
frozen eyes, but it’s no use. All I see are razor-sharp teeth protruding from its
mouth and white foam dripping to the floor.

It’s going to eat me. I’m sure of it.

“Meet Zeus, my crap-for-brains guard dog.”
He smacks the so-called dog across his head. Zeus snaps at his hand, but Cole’s quick
reflexes prevent him from biting anything but air. “Don’t talk to him. He only listens
to me… So I strongly suggest you don’t try to pull anything stupid. Like make him
attack me. It won’t work.”

Then why tell me?

I examine Zeus with cautious eyes, unsure what to think of him. “I’ve never seen a
horse, I mean, dog with—”

“He’s a Great Dane,” he snaps at me and then flicks the light on. “Stay seated.”

Is he talking to the dog or me?

Zeus has a fawn coat with a black mask, eye rims, and eyebrows. He’s like a miniature
horse. He turns toward me, licks my face, and looks down as he pushes his forehead
to mine. I hold my breath. He tasted me and now I wait for him to eat me. He growls.

“Zeus, I think she gets the point. You’re a badass. Now go lay down,” Cole says.

My filthy floor disgusts even the dog because he takes one glance, moves a foot, and
slips. Then he slowly makes his way back toward Cole’s room.

I need to get his slobber off my face…
“I have to use the bathroom,” I say.

“So go. I don’t need a play-by-play,” Cole says with a yawn.

I stumble to my bathroom. Fear climbs in my throat as I wash my face and attempt to
use the restroom. No toilet paper hangs on the roll.

Good thing I only have to pee.

I pull up my pants, tie them in place, and yank open the curtain to find Cole leaning
against the wall, almost asleep. His usual stern expression melts away as he nods
forward and catches himself. Blinking back sleep, he looks around, eyes me, and retires
back to his room, shutting the door completely this time.

I lie back down on my mattress, breathing deeply to calm myself, and then curl up
like a kitten. The heavy fingers of rest push my eyelids down only to be interrupted
by an unfamiliar voice. Half asleep, I think the voice comes from within my dream,
but when it repeats itself, I startle into consciousness.