Uprising

by J. Thorn

  “I had nothing to do with it, Kora.” He shook his head and nudged his buddies. “You should be careful where you point those fingers. Mama always told me it wasn’t polite to point at others. Guess nobody ever taught you manners.”

  Emil and his goons broke out into a fit of laughter, and I wanted to rip the smile right off of his ugly mouth. I clenched my fists at my sides, looking back to Kora as the guards dragged her away. She stared at me and I felt every bit of her desperation behind the rage burning in her eyes.

  And then she was gone, and the crowd dispersed as the guards herded the prisoners outside. When I looked back to Emil, his face turned as dark as the bottom of Lake Union in the dead of winter. I stared back, matching his callous expression by feeding off the hot coals of anger in my stomach. His thick lips split into an arctic grin.

  Emil had killed Julyen. I knew it. I felt it.

  17

  The words weren’t audible as they drifted through my cramped cell. They rode in on a chilling breeze and haunted the blood-stained walls. I wasn’t sure if I’d heard the cries of the deranged or the wrangling whispers of the dead. That night, I didn’t care.

  Sleep had eluded me. Kora had returned to our cell with a few bruises after the guards knocked her around and told her to lay off the accusations against Emil. She sat in the corner with her head down and her mouth shut.

  I’d grown weary of studying every inch of the soiled walls and counting the wiry strings of peeling paint on the ceiling. I’d even grown tired of my own thoughts.

  I shifted my body on the thin mattress, scrunching my knees against my chest and burying my face under the musty blanket, trying to mute the eerie prison sounds as I listened to my breath. Eventually, I fell into a restless sleep.

  The sun shone bright as I looked up at the rocky cliff face. I knew I had to climb the mountain, but the terrain was steep and sheer, and it seemed impossible. I took a shaky breath, reminding myself that nothing was impossible as I reached for a deep notch along the bluff, hauling myself upward one tedious crevasse at a time.

  The higher I climbed, the thinner the air became. My shallow breath cut into my lungs as my arms weakened and my legs burned. I couldn’t go on, but I couldn’t stop. I clung desperately to the side of the steep rock, wedged between the past below and the future above.

  I sighed, dropping my gaze to the ground as a sense of failure gripped my heart. My eyes began to sting with tears, and then I heard it—a series of high-pitched sounds from above. I peered into the sky to see the wide-spanning, white wings of an eagle soaring above and calling to me. I smiled as I felt a renewed sense of courage. Refocused, I started again, moving hand-over-hand towards the top of the mountain.

  Almost there.

  I craned my neck to see the edge just a few feet away. I reached for another notch, my fingers slipping in the loose gravel as I lost my grip and began to fall.

  No!

  I cried, the tears streaking across the dirt layering my face as I clawed both hands back into cracks within the sheer face and cradled my head into the crook of my arm. Then I heard my name.

  “Rayna.”

  It was a voice I knew well. I gasped, and my heart swelled as I looked up to see Asher. His dark hair falling forward as he smiled and reached down for me.

  “C’mon, Rayna. You can climb any mountain.”

  I clasped his hand, and he pulled me over the top. I flung myself into his arms, pressing my ear against his chest and listening for his heartbeat, the sweetest melody I’d ever heard.

  “Asher.” I looked up into his face.

  He beamed down at me as he stroked my back.

  “Be free,” he said, gesturing to the eagle circling above. “Come fly with me.”

  Come fly with me.

  “Rayna?”

  I squeezed my eyes tighter, not wanting to be roused from my dream and leave Asher.

  “Rayna?”

  This time, my name was spoken with a nudge to my shoulder.

  No!

  Asher’s image dissolved and I swam to the surface of consciousness. And, with that, he was lost to me again. I turned to see Kora standing over my cot and peering down at me.

  I forced a smile.

  “Yeah?”

  Her blue eyes glistened through the darkness inside the cell.

  “Can you get us out of here?”

  I pulled myself up and took her hand.

  “I’ll try.” I gave her hand a quick squeeze. “Get some rest first, okay?”

  I watched as she gave me a nod before shuffling to the other cot and collapsing onto the mattress. All the while, Asher’s words circled through my head like the soaring eagle.

  Come fly with me.

  18

  The cell gate clanked as a guard yanked the steel bars open and waited for us to wake up. It was earlier than usual, and it seemed as though they’d been rousing everyone early. We heard the complaining making its way through the cell block.

  Nevertheless, we jumped to our feet, rubbing our eyes and stifling the urges to yawn which would bring nothing but more verbal abuse around here, and neither of us were in the mood to cop an earful at this small hour.

  The guard motioned with a swift nod.

  “Out.” He stepped aside to allow for an extremely narrow gap between himself and the steel frame.

  Kora slinked past him, trying her best not to make contact with his body filling most of the threshold, but it was nearly impossible. Especially when he purposely slid forward to brush himself against her backside as she passed through. He chuckled beneath his breath as she slipped into the hall, joining the other prisoners heading out for a day’s work.

  I grimaced and braced myself as I set off to follow her into the hallway, but I was promptly stopped by the guard’s filthy palm.

  “Not you. You need to wait.”

  “For what?”

  His brows raised, the skin of his forehead appearing to ripple right over his bumpy skull.

  “For whatever the hell the boss has planned for you. You’re a money magnet, sugar.” He licked his lips as he looked me up and down.

  I raised my chin and said nothing as he closed the cell door and vanished into the crowd while my pulse began to race. The slave traders were supposed to arrive today, based on what I’d heard from the other prisoners, and I was about to be sold.

  I started pacing around the cell, trying to calm my nerves and revisit the feeling of Asher’s presence in my dream. His beautiful essence had always soothed me. Now, as I was about to be tossed into the unknown, I needed him more than ever.

  I closed my eyes and bowed my head. “Come fly with me, Asher.”

  Another guard appeared at the cell gate and leered at me through the bars.

  “I’d stick one-and-one in ya. Eh, eleven?” He grabbed his crotch. “Your new master will have fun with you.”

  “My name’s not eleven.”

  He laughed and motioned me through the opened gate while jabbing me with his horrible words as I passed.

  “It is today. Number eleven is the lucky number—you’re gonna fetch a hefty price for the boss.”

  I knew enough not to reply. There was no point in arguing with these obnoxious guards. They weren’t worth the breath. Besides, I had to keep focused. I had to believe freedom would be possible even though it looked bleak in the moment.

  I fell into step in a line of other prisoners to be auctioned off at the market. We shuffled along while being led through the dingy corridors and outside into the yard that was already buzzing with activity.

  I squinted as my eyes adjusted to the sunlight. I saw a makeshift platform on one side of the yard with a throng of people gathered around it, chatting and laughing as if they hadn’t a care in the world. Mostly men, and they had come as if were simply buying cattle. None of them appeared to be disturbed by that fact.

  I swung my gaze to another cluster of people milling around and calling for the guards. Some of them began to shout while others waved,
whistled, and hollered. The guards hadn’t noticed yet, and the prisoners began to form a circle around something. Probably someone.

  As the crowd opened to allow a few of the bigger, more powerful prisoners through to whatever had drawn everyone’s attention, I saw a body lying face-down in the dirt, blood darkening the soil as it oozed from the dead girl’s throat.

  The guards ran over to tamper down the commotion, yelling at the prisoners to step back. That’s when I saw Emil standing over the body, his head hanging low while his bottom lip trembled. I realized then that Feliz had been killed—Emil’s girl, his right hand inside the walls of the prison.

  Kora? She had been dragged from the cell only a few minutes before me and she wasn’t on the trading block today. Would she even have been in the yard?

  I swallowed hard as Emil made a slow turn and levelled his eyes on me like a deadly cobra ready to strike. I returned his dark stare, and our eyes locked for only a split second but his message was clear nonetheless—he would pin this on me, and if I wasn’t here any longer, he’d exact his murderous revenge on Kora.

  19

  The slave traders strutted around in finely-pressed shirts, cotton pants, and groomed moustaches. I had only seen glimpses of this kind of clothing in the Nest or in the old books of the old world. These men did not get their hands dirty, and coming to the prison for the auction was probably as close as they had ever come to real work.

  When the guards led our group of five prisoners up the rickety wooden stairs of the platform overlooking the potential buyers, I watched as their eyes scanned us from head to toe—much like hunters would after a kill and before gutting the animal they’d killed. Some scribbled notes on a pad while others licked their lips in anticipation of a purchase. We had become nothing but a product displayed before them in a marketplace of lost souls.

  I looked up. The sun’s rays filtered through white clouds that scattered and clumped together overhead, casting jagged lines that streaked across the distant mountains. When the eagle appeared from the veil of clouds and glided over the central court, my breath faltered. A feeling of knowing came over me with every graceful flap of the white wings that carried the majestic creature through the air.

  Even when Drake appeared before us and began to speak to the buyers, I paid no attention to his greasy tones and grand words. I didn’t bother trying to keep up with the auctioneer once it began. It was only when the soaring eagle disappeared into a blanket of thick clouds that I came back to myself, promptly meeting the eyes of a man leering at me.

  He wore a brown, leather overcoat skimmed sleeveless and studded that was trying to hide his large frame, while numerous strands of beaded necklaces hung around the rolls of his thick neck. He smiled at me, and when he cocked his head to the side, his slicked, black hair clung to his scalp like eel skin.

  I shuddered, turning my attention back to the auction as a guard stepped forward and pulled me to the front of the platform. It was my turn to be on the block.

  Drake aimed his hard stare at me, and his thin lips curled into a wry grin before he turned back to the buyers with a hint of excitement in his voice.

  “A fine, physical specimen in the prime of her years. This girl is strong, she can fight, and well, just look at those wide hips. You get me, right?”

  A chorus of chuckles rose from the buyers, most of the men old enough to be my father. I shivered despite the hot sun on my back.

  Drake hushed them down and pointed at the auctioneer, who began the bidding. The men shouted and threw insults at me as they waved their hands in the air, raising the price with every bid. I couldn’t keep up with the bidding and I could see the auctioneer sweating until he finally slammed a hammer against the timber post in the middle of the platform, declaring a winner and sealing my fate.

  A series of claps, heckles, and curses rose among the bidders as the auctioneer announced the winner. My stomach sank to my feet when I saw the dreadful man in the leather coat pushing his way through the crowd toward me. He stopped at the foot of the stairs and beckoned me towards him with a wave of his bejeweled, chubby fingers. I wanted to turn and run the other way.

  I shuffled back a few steps, but Drake shoved me forward and whispered in my ear. His hot breath reeked of garlic and dishonesty.

  “Go on, eleven. Your new master paid well for you. Don’t disappoint.”

  I flinched as my new owner’s black eyes bored into mine and I moved forward, every step like walking through deep, thick sand. I stopped in front of him, feeling his eyes linger on my body as I focused on the mountains beyond.

  “Hello, pretty.”

  I gritted my teeth as I flashed him a look.

  He broke into a grin and grabbed my wrists to shackle me.

  “Ahh, you’re a spirited one, just the way I like them.” He pulled on my shackles and led me toward his cart. “Let’s play a game. Let’s see how long you can hold onto that fiery spirit of yours!”

  A trail of rancid body odor mixed with jasmine filled my nostrils, the man’s perfume clearly not strong enough to mask his poor hygiene.

  I grimaced as he pushed me into his cart, locking the shackles securely along the side rail. Then he leaned in and spoke, his spittle hitting me in the face.

  “Don’t go anywhere, pretty. I’ll be back to take you home soon.” He grinned before running his hot, thick tongue up the side of my cheek. “Just need me a few more girls in case you… don’t work out.”

  I looked up as he walked back to the auction. The eagle was gone.

  20

  I rolled the kinks from my neck before leaning my head against the rails of the cart. I’d been sitting there long enough to feel muscle cramps settling into my shoulders, and my butt had begun to ache from the timber planks of the bench.

  I could hear the auction winding down and I knew it wouldn’t be long before my new master would return and take me away. I could still smell his unwashed body and see the gleam in his eye as he’d shackled me. He hadn’t come back with more girls and I couldn’t decide if that was good for me or not.

  The iron shackles wouldn’t budge and the only thing I could do was swear under my breath. I slumped forward. Beads of sweat clung to my brow, slid down my cheeks, and mixed with the tears that I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to appear weak even though I was.

  My thoughts turned to Asher, remembering how the beat of his heart had sounded against my ear while the eagle circled above us in my dream. I had never told Asher that I loved him. Never said the words out loud. Now, it was too late, and I would never get that chance again. I squeezed my eyes shut. The outside world fell away the moment I realized that, if Asher could visit me in my dream world, maybe he could somehow hear me, too. So, I lifted my chin and gazed at the clouds before murmuring the words I knew he had longed to hear.

  “I love you, Asher.”

  The moment those words passed through my lips, a sudden uproar erupted from the prison yard. I faced the commotion, but saw nothing but people running.

  What the hell?

  I watched as guards emerged from all directions, bolting and hollering to one another while swinging their clubs as they ran toward the riot that seemed to have risen out of nowhere.

  Kora. Where is she?

  I didn’t know, but my heart almost stopped as a dust cloud rose and obscured whatever was happening. I caught glimpses of people fighting and prisoners being trampled beneath the boots of the guards.

  Sitting up as far as the shackles allowed, I strained to get a better view of the rumble, franticly searching for Kora among the crush of violent bodies. It appeared that the prisoners had gotten into the slave market and now all hell had been unleashed.

  Could this have something to do with Feliz’s murder? Could the prison factions be at war? Some of Emil’s goons fought with prisoners I’d gotten to know while other groups of prisoners turned on the guards. It was impossible for me to tell who was fighting who and I began to worry about Kora. The last time we had talked, she
’d been unstable—almost unhinged.

  “Damn shackles.” My wrists began to bleed as the iron rubbed my skin raw. I was about to scream when I heard a soft voice float up from behind me.

  “Rayna.”

  I spun my head to catch Wyllow scurrying up to the cart and pulling out her set of rusty skeleton keys. She flashed me a fast grin, then inspected the lock on my shackles before choosing one of the keys.

  “What are you doing?”

  I knew full well what she was doing, but somehow my brain hadn’t yet processed the unfolding events.

  “Shh… we don’t have much time.” Wyllow stuck a key into each of the locks and smiled when the mechanisms clicked. She grabbed my hand and pulled.

  “We have to move. Now!”

  I didn’t need any more prompting. I tightened my grip on her hand and leapt from the cart, keeping close to her as she led me out of the chaos. The adrenaline pumped through my veins and I now knew one thing for certain.

  Wyllow had kept her word.

  21

  It was one of those surreal moments when you see yourself from above, yet you’re not quite sure if what you’re seeing is true. The riot had kept the guards distracted, which allowed us to pass through the slave market and prison yard unnoticed. Horns blared and the shouting continued, and I couldn’t tell if that meant that the prisoners were winning the fight or dying in the dirt.

  Wyllow ignored the chaos and pulled me into the lunch room just before six guards came around the corner, headed toward the conflict. We scurried down the tunnel and to the path leading to Devil’s Hole. It wasn’t until we had passed the gated entrance and run for the low sage brush near the access road that I snapped back to myself.