by Abi Ketner
No!
I jump back into the shadows, sure she’s seen me. My pulse races. I can’t breathe.
I think I know that woman. I’ve seen her before.
Amber. It’s her. It’s unmistakably her.
One of the nurses I used to work with in the hospital, she looks like a shell of her former self. Bulging eyes stare out from a shriveled face. Her once vibrant hair lies limp down her back in thin strands.
I hold my breath waiting for her to scream, “She’s there!”
But minutes pass, and the group continues down the street.
That was close.
I slide down the cement wall, letting my gun dangle in my hands for a short moment. My chest feels like it’s on fire. Cole squats next to me and puts his hand on my neck, and for the first time, his touch doesn’t comfort me. I push my feelings aside and focus on what’s happening.
“We should follow them. See where they’re taking them,” I say.
“Medical records … that’s what we’re looking for,” Cole says. “We can’t afford to get sidetracked. Besides, Wilson just increased his army by thousands by offering freedom to the person who turns you in. Now, instead of just guards, every Sinner able to stand will be trying to take you down.”
And he killed the last Sinner who could identify us. He can’t go around just killing people who happen to lay eyes on us. Neither of us say anything for a few seconds. Wilson has changed everything.
“Look,” I say, pausing to gather my thoughts. “Most of those people looked really sick. Maybe they were being taken somewhere that could lead us to information that could help Roméo.” I push myself up and brush off my pants.
Cole removes his hand from my neck.
“Okay, fine. But if it gets too risky we’re turning around.” In that moment, I know something between us has changed because Cole stands aside and motions for me to take the lead. And for the first time in forever, I feel like I might be in control of my destiny.
I slink along the walls of the surrounding buildings, keeping the tail end of the slow march within view. It’s no wonder I don’t see anyone if this is what they’re doing to those who come out during the day. And then I think about Amber and how she almost saw me. She looked like crap. I guess even her plan to bribe the guards eventually fell through.
And then we’re there.
The Commander’s old headquarters, where the transformation center was moved after the revolt, looms overhead to the left of the main gate. The entrance to the video viewing room changed into thick, cement double doors with guards at attention on either side. Cattle chutes line the outside, forming two lines, where people get separated—spouses, children, parents, lovers, and friends—males on one side and females on the other. Then the guards force the Sinners into the building. Creeping into the shadows, I point the entrance out for Cole as Zeus sits by my side.
Watching them separate the Sinners into categories infuriates me. Bile burns in my throat. My hands clench my gun, turning my knuckles white. This is a completely new kind of evil.
Amber’s figure disappears on the right side and through the new, heavy doors. After the Sinners are inside, some of the guards light up cigarettes or laugh and talk together.
What are they doing to those people? What is this place?
It’s like the guards aren’t human. Like Cole said he was in the past—solid and hard, without a conscience. Cole exhales in disgust.
Before I can gather my senses, Zeus darts out of our hiding spot and runs straight across the street.
What the hell?
I’m about to dive after him when Cole practically rips me back into place, his eyes flashing a warning.
“What’re you doing?” I say with anger before checking both ways, making sure the guards haven’t spotted Zeus. They haven’t. Zeus stands, staring at a teenage boy while holding a flat, red ball in his mouth. When the coast is clear, I sprint toward them, despite Cole’s attempt to keep me in place.
The young man’s eyes turn to quarters and his mouth drops open as he stares at Zeus.
“The ball’s my brother’s,” he says in barely a whisper. “Please, don’t hurt me.”
Zeus approaches him and drops the ball at his feet, whining.
Relief washes over the boy’s face as he picks up the ball, never taking his eyes off Zeus.
“Thank you,” he says.
Zeus ambles forward as the boy holds his hand out and gives him a quick lick, and then he nudges him into a dark entryway.
“Okay, you stay safe,” the boy says. He catches sight of me and gives a small smile. “I’m glad you’re here to help us.”
Before I can reply, footsteps come up behind me, and I flip around. I raise my hand to my gun, but it’s only Cole. He curses under his breath, and his movements are rigid as he draws closer.
“Halt!” I hear someone say.
Oh crap.
My eyes meet Cole’s. He gives a darting glance toward the voice and turns back to me. His finger moves to the trigger of his gun, and I know exactly what will happen next. I duck my head, and Zeus covers me with his body. Just then, Cole fires three times.
Cole dashes into the space behind me, using the wall as cover.
“Go!” he shouts.
Zeus and I run together.
More shots ring out. Small spits of dust kick up close to us. I race between buildings, turning left, and then turning right. Zeus trails me, and Cole follows.
“Halt!” the voice shouts again.
But Cole drowns it out with the sound of his gun.
I don’t look back to see if he hit the person or if they’re still following us. I go until my legs can’t carry me anymore. I run until I know we’re safe. Somehow, we end up in an alleyway, where laundry hangs from clotheslines. Patched clothes, old sheets, and faded underclothing are slung carelessly over the thin lines. I sprint underneath, my breathing becoming heavier. My blood pumps through my ears. I turn to check on Cole and Zeus.
Next thing, I’m lying on my back, staring at a light-blue checkered shirt slung over my face. At first, I can’t move. Then, I begin to thrash with my hands and feet. The tangled line catches, wrapping around the shirt and my head at the same time. I gasp for air.
Someone rips the shirt off my face. The thin line of laundry trails behind it. I squint into the sun as a dark head comes into focus. Standing over me is Zeus, staring down with a shirt in his mouth.
“Your timing is impeccable,” Cole says. He rips me off the ground and shoves me forward. I feel slightly humiliated.
“Where are they?” I ask, trying to catch my breath. My head spins just slightly.
“Not sure. We’ll hide in there.”
He helps me through a doorway and into a vacant room. It smells musty. The cement-block walls are covered with a thin film of mold. I see a staircase in the far left corner, snaking upward to the next floor.
Zeus runs up with the old shirt still in his mouth, shaking it left and right. Seriously, Zeus, you think it’s alive?
Cole looks around. Glass crunches under our boots with each step we take.
“We need to get to higher ground to see where we’re at.” We reach the stairs, and he waves me up behind him, scanning our surroundings as he leads.
The staircase opens up, and sunshine pours through the hallway. The room upstairs resembles an over-crowded dorm room. Dirt and dust streaks the windows, but the glass remains intact. Zeus makes his home on the dilapidated couch, tearing at the cushions. Fluff springs from the overstuffed pillows.
My feet stick to the floor, and I look down at the filth grabbing at my soles. Yuck. Bunk beds line the walls, and someone’s written all over the cement in bold, black marker.
As I read the writing, Cole says, “Only you’d clothesline yourself during a gunfight.”
I turn to him and smile. He’s right. If Keegan were alive, I’m sure the two of them would be having a good laugh at my expense.
He smiles for the first time
in days then says, “Are you all right?” He turns me to face him.
“My pride’s a little bruised, that’s for sure,” I say. He looks at me for a minute before letting go.
“I don’t doubt that.” He leans against the wall, peeking out the window.
I collapse on the couch, next to Zeus, and listen as he growls. A spring pokes my butt, and I jump. Part of me wants him to be able to act like a pup for once. It has to get old, being serious and on guard all the time, even though that’s what he’s trained to do. I reach across, whipping the pillow out from under his paws, and he grabs it with his mouth.
“You did a good job back there, buddy,” I say to him. He snarls at the pillow and proceeds ripping its guts out. “That boy could’ve gotten himself killed.”
“Those guards would’ve killed them both,” Cole says. As he speaks, I notice the red rims around his eyes and the dirt caked on his face.
“Did you know them?” I ask.
He shakes his head and averts his eyes. If he’s trying to pretend his secret isn’t eating at him, then he’s doing a poor job of hiding it.
The silence emanating from him bothers me so much, I can barely sit still. I am on edge. Nervous. Sick to my stomach. Angry.
I need to do something to take my mind off of our relationship and Wilson’s threats. I get up and walk to the wall on the opposite side of the bunk beds. As I read the black ink, I’m shocked.
“Cole?”
“Yeah.”
“Come here. You need to see this … ”
Cole peers through the cloudy glass one last time, his hands loosening on his gun. He sets his gun down on the corner of the couch, carefully moving around the furniture as he makes his way toward where I stand at the wall.
“Who are they?” he asks, placing his palm against the cement blocks.
“Sinners … like me.”
“You mean, like us,” he says in a firm tone. I tilt my head toward him but his eyes are glued to the names on the wall.
Mollie Bayberry, Gluttony.
Sam Buckwalter, Wrath.
Kelsey Miller, labeled Lust. I’ll never be who they say I am.
I can totally relate to that.
Naif Gwinn III, Greed. Midwest. I lived in a bomb shelter underground for five years with my family. When we came out, we were all accused by people we didn’t even know. When they came for us, my parents fought the guards and were shot in front of me. I lost everything. I ended up in hell. But I met others inside and have survived living here for two years. I don’t know how some days. I wasn’t greedy before, but I would kill others for food now if it meant I’d make it one more day.
Kimberley Drajogvic, Lust.
Ben V. Shunnemaker, Pride. It’s who I am.
My fingers shake as I strain to read all the names. Some of them leave messages related to their sins, others write just their names and brands. I can hardly believe my eyes as I take it all in.
Jerry Piagentini. I was born here. I don’t remember my parents. I grew up on the streets, working odd jobs for guards to make enough to eat. I’ll probably die here. Life is hopeless.
Kristen Dayspring, Lust. From High Society, formerly known as NYC. I was accused the night of my 18th birthday by my best friend. I had a party while my parents were away, and she was jealous of the gift her boyfriend got me. I liked him, I’ll even admit to wanting him … but it wasn’t worth it. I never got to say goodbye to my mom and dad. If you ever meet them, tell them I love them.
“Did you know her?” Cole asks.
“No, I don’t recognize the name.”
Cole lapses into silence, and I wonder what he’s thinking.
“After Keegan left, I wasn’t allowed out much. I think my mom was afraid of losing me too.”
“Huh, isn’t that ironic,” he says quietly.
“Yeah, tell me about it. Keegan forgave her for everything before he died … Sometimes I wish I could do the same. But I’m still angry with her for sending me here. How can I not be?”
“Lexi, you can’t hold on to that anger,” he says. “Trust me. You might end up doing something that later on you’ll deeply regret. Forgiving someone who hurt you is hard as hell to actually do, but in the end, it brings you the kind of relief you need to move on. Like when you close a book, so you can open up a new one. I have no clue where that weird metaphor just came from.” He gives a small chuckle.
I laugh at him. “Well, I can’t bring myself to do that just yet… but forgiving also applies to forgiving yourself.”
Cole’s jaw twitches as my words silence him. He looks away, swallowing hard.
Suddenly, my mind flashes to a quote from the book Alyssa read before her death, The Last Silk Dress. It’s in one of the scenes where the daughter, Susan, tries to rationalize her tumultuous relationship with her mother. The words come back to me, hitting me like lightning.
“And it was too late for me to decide that I could forgive her for anything. Or hope that she would forgive me. She didn’t want my forgiveness. She didn’t want me.”
“It’s no wonder Alyssa thought of me when she read that book,” I whisper to myself. I wish I knew where it was now. I shake my head and turn to watch Cole, but he’s completely caught up in reading the various stories written on the wall, his hand stretching out to one in particular.
“Hey,” I say. Cole’s head snaps up as he drops his hand from the wall.
“Yeah?”
“Do you think there’s anything here to write with? There’s something I need to do.”
He presses his lips together for a moment. “Let me see what I can find.”
Cole’s eyes jump around the room. Zeus lifts his head from the couch as fluff topples from his head. Everything’s a mess. Blankets and clothing are tangled on the floor. Zeus has shredded the pillows beyond use. One of the end tables is overturned, and crudely made silverware is scattered around the living space in front of the couch.
“Here, found something,” Cole says. He strides over to the corner of the room, flicks a quick glance out the window, and picks up a black marker. “How about that, sucker?” He flings it to me.
“Perfect, thank you.” I catch it, unscrew the cap, and then I reach up to my tiptoes to find space for my name. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cole watching me closely. I lean my head back and begin writing.
Lexi Hamilton, Lust. In love with Cole Veneti, a former guard. Falsely accused, but it no longer matters to me who they think I am. Brands don’t define who you are, you have the power to decide that on your own. I might be damaged, but I’m not broken. Believe me, you can overcome anything short of death.
When I finish, Cole’s waiting, holding out his hand. His jaw’s set, and his brown eyes focus with intensity. I hand over the marker and watch as he easily stretches up and begins to write.
Cole Veneti, unbranded, but I’ll be damned if I don’t deserve to be branded with every one of the seven sins. Former guard turned resistance member with Zeus, the best dog you’ve ever met. Lexi Hamilton rescued me from the hellish life I was living. I’m sorry for the past, but I hope to redeem myself this time around. If we manage to band together and stop hating each other, then we can beat the system. NEVER GIVE UP HOPE.
He stands back, rereading his words, and I take his hand in mine. We don’t speak, but I feel stronger standing here, just holding his hand. Just having him by my side blows my mind. Evil brought us together, but love makes us whole.
Someone nudges our hands, and I look down to see Zeus gazing up at us. I can’t help laughing. Cole and I let go of each other, and I squat to Zeus’s level while taking his face in between my hands and allowing him to lick the side of my face.
“We didn’t forget you, you’re part of our family,” I say. Then Zeus burps, and I cringe away from his mouth. It smells like fish. “For that, I might just disown you, though.”
“How about we go downstairs and take a look around?” Cole suggests. He picks up his gun and focuses on the mission again. �
��If it’s clear of guards we should head back to the underground. As soon as we can.”
“Cole, before we go, I just want to say you’ve already redeemed yourself … I think you should know that.” He lifts his eyes to mine, and the pain that radiates through them takes me aback. “Whatever secret you’re keeping from me, you need to get it out, otherwise it’ll consume you … and us.”
His posture tightens, and his hand flexes at his side. “Soon … I promise, okay?” His shoulders slump as soon as he says it.
I wipe my hands on my pants and straighten my shoulders. He’s right, we should go, but I hate not knowing what’s eating him. If something happens to us, I don’t want anything left unsaid.
Cole traverses the steps lightly and slowly. Zeus scampers down behind him, and I bring up the rear. Cole turns around and raises his eyebrows at me, waiting on me to follow.
I take one last look at the wall where we told our stories. It’s in permanent ink—our commitment to each other and to the resistance. I can’t help wondering what Sutton would think about our small band of revolt members being in the Hole. Or how he’s holding up. Or if he’s okay. Then I feel the building shudder.
“Cole?”
“Yeah?”
“Did you feel that?”
“Feel what?” he asks half-heartedly, poking his head out the doorway.
“The walls; they’re shaking.” I hop down the last step and put my hand on the wall.
“Well, that’s never a good thing.” He leans out the door as he scans the alleyway. The air’s stagnant and heavy with moisture. Sweat pours off my forehead. “It’s clear,” he says. “Let’s go.”
I hear a sound like a thunderclap. “What is that?” I ask in a shaky voice.
Zeus barks, sprinting across the room toward Cole as our eyes meet in a moment of panic.
“Get down!” Cole says as he dives to the floor.
Dust and ash billow around us. I fall to my knees, covering my head with my arms, pressed against the wall. Crashing and banging echo all around. When I try to breathe, my lungs fill with particles and dust, making me cough. My body trembles, but I can’t move.
I brace myself as the walls come down around me. A slab of concrete lands next to my head, and I begin yelling. “Make it stop!”
