Branded

  Outside the window above his bed, the siren screams again. “When you hear that.” He points to his window. “Your ass better be at work.”

  I figured that.

  He sits at the table and points to the chair across from him. “Sit,” he says as he packs up the computer for more space. “We have a lot to cover. There’re certain rules you have to obey, and if you don’t, you’re toast.”

  “Do you have a pen and paper?” I ask. “So I can take notes.”

  He pulls on the collar of his shirt. “Don’t move. I’ll be back.” He leaves through the doorway in his room and the door locks behind him. I check just to make sure.

  Cole returns with a pen and a piece of paper. He sits back down and slides them across the table.

  “Where’d you go?” I ask.

  “The guards have a station on each floor for reporting purposes… Now can I start?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yes.”

  I try to steady my hand while I write, but the letters look like a third grader wrote them. I can’t stop wondering why, out of all things, he chose to be a guard. I bet it’s the control, but I’ll never ask.

  He tells me there’s no public transportation within the Hole. He explains how the buses take the sinners to high-speed trains that transport them to their jobs if their jobs are up north in High Society or farther away. However, very few people are authorized to come and go freely—none of which are sinners, of course. The majority of the population is branded red, black, or yellow. He says the blue tend to die off quickly, either from suicide, disease, or murder. Orange keep to themselves and green hangs out with purple. Stay away from all reds—no matter what.

  He tells me that the gangs are growing, violence is increasing, and everyone’s starving. Some areas are safer than others, but pretty much everywhere is dangerous, especially for me.

  I absorb every disturbing detail. Children born here are forced to live the remainder of their lives in the Hole. The commander believes they carry the blood of sinners within them and, therefore, don’t deserve to leave.

  I drop my pen on the table.

  He huffs a heavy sigh. “Now what?” I feel him shift in his chair.

  “How could anyone be so cruel?”

  “Forceful is putting it lightly. Then again, if he weren’t, you’d think he was soft enough to try and escape, right?”

  I shake my head. “I just don’t understand why you’d want to join the guards.” After the sentence slips out, I clench my teeth in expectation of his response.

  Will he lash out and hit me or will he finally rip me to shreds?

  He gives me a hard look and avoids my question. “Can I finish?”

  “Yeah, go ahead.” I lean back and cross my legs at my ankles. “But I have one more question.”

  “Seriously?” he asks.

  “Are all sinners treated equally?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why are you protecting me?”

  “That I can’t answer.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Both,” he says. “I was ordered to watch you, and that’s what I’m doing. There’s nothing more to tell. Now please shut up and let me finish.”

  He tells me all the rules without any personality. His monotone voice flips through the pages. No this. No that. No one but the guards has rights here. Trudging through all the details of my new arrangement takes all of the morning, afternoon, and part of the evening. He shows me maps of the Hole and the hospital, which stands in the center of this monstrosity. He writes out my schedule for the week, which consists of my cell, work, and back to my cell. The Hole runs just like a prison but without bars to hold everyone in place. He says the commander believes the judicial system that used to exist was full of flaws and a waste of time.

  “After all, it’s easier and cheaper to keep everyone in one location,” Cole says.

  I totally disagree.

  “You should just kill me. You have a gun, and no one would care.”

  “Lexi.” I feel his eyes on me. “What’s wrong with you? You think I want to kill you?”

  “I’m a waste of your time.”

  “My job is to protect you, not kill you.”

  “And you’re okay with that?”

  “Without me you’d be dead, so yes, for whatever reason, I am.”

  I’m not sure what he means by that, but I’m done asking questions today.

  I lower my eyes to the table, feeling shame mixed with despair. I’ll never get out of here. Either he’ll be with me or some crazy person will do worse to me in the streets.

  “I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice is shaky with an edge of desperation. “I thought we already established that.”

  “Sorry.” I stand and smooth out my shirt. “May I go back to my cell for a minute?” Tears sit on the rims of my eyes, and I pretend to rub them when I’m really trying to keep from crying.

  “Sure.” He gives me a conflicted look and then rips his gaze away.

  I head back to my empty room and cover my mouth with my shirt as the tears spill out. My circumstances seem so dismal.

  Yet there’s got to be hope, right? Cole said he didn’t want to hurt me.

  Zeus lies down next to me and nudges my elbow. I slide away from him, spying his silly sideways expression and smile.

  Is he trying to comfort me?

  Cole calls from his room. “As soon as I’m ready, we’ll head over to the hospital. You have to be familiar with the building. I won’t be with you when you’re working so you need to know what to expect,” he says from the doorway. “Would you come back so I don’t have to yell?”

  “Where will you be?” I grudgingly return to his room.

  “Training.” He opens the safe and straps two handguns onto his side. His dark-gray uniform emphasizes his muscular build, and he catches me staring.

  Trying to pass it off, I move forward but nosedive to the floor. Did I seriously just trip over the dog? Wow. I roll onto my back. He offers his hand and pulls me upright with a smug look. I groan as embarrassment crawls up my face in the form of a deep, crimson flush.

  “Now look. Whatever you do, stay on my inside. I have to know where you are at all times. Don’t wander off. Follow me, walk, and breathe.” He starts to move toward the door when he stops suddenly. He looks closely at me then rummages through his bag. He hands me a pair of sunglasses with large, reflective lenses that look like they will swallow half my face. “Take these and wear them outside.” His voice is callous and indicative of his training. The tough-guy persona grates on my nerves. “Do you think you can handle that?”

  “Sure, no problem,” I say, remembering the last time we ventured out. After clarifying those details, we depart down the dark corridor.

  Holding my shirt over my nose, I brace for the stench of the decomposing body, but it’s been moved.

  Thank God.

  The courtyard’s full of people. I get shoved from my left side, knocking me off-balance. They smack, push, and yank while trying to get on the old dirty work buses that take them to their jobs each day. How on earth do those things still work? They look like wrecked sheet metal on wheels.

  I walk beside Cole, and Zeus follows.

  Turning toward the hospital, I feel the weight of multiple eyes resting on my back. People stare at me, or us—I’m not sure. Catcalls and whispers from citizens distract me. I duck my head and keep my eyes lowered to avoid attention.

  “Nice disguise. Too bad you can’t disguise she’s a whore.” A man emerges from the shadows in the alley with a knife in hand. He licks his lips, making my skin crawl. He reaches out to grab my arm when Zeus growls, low and menacing, at him. The man pulls back and raises his knife, but Zeus doesn’t back down. He shows no fear. His hair stands up straight on his back and runs along his spine.

  In one swift motion, the man cuts his knife through the air, narrowly missing the dog. Zeus jumps on him with a violent bark and shakes the knife out of his hand. His jagg
ed canines dig in deep and force a cry out of the man lying on the ground. Cole picks up the knife and puts it at the man’s neck.

  “Come near her again and I’ll slice your throat.”

  A mixture of fear and bitter resentment cross the man’s bearded face. Cole removes the knife, leaving the man to crawl away. He turns toward Zeus and rubs between his ears.

  “Now that’s more like it. I can tell you’ve been practicing your scary face.” Cole laughs.

  Yes, thank you, Zeus.

  Cole grabs my arm to push me forward. “We better keep going.”

  Sometimes I grab his shirt to keep from stumbling over trash or dead bodies. He jumps down into an alley, holds his arms up, and catches me while I take the leap. Zeus hops down behind without effort like a graceful gazelle. The walkway narrows between the buildings, and the only place I can go is behind Cole. So, I walk blind.

  Sewage pipes below emit an unpleasant aroma, and the walls tower over us on each side, making me claustrophobic. After a rat skitters over my foot, I slam into Cole, knocking my glasses to the litter-ridden pavement. He turns and pushes me against the wall.

  “What are you doing? I thought we went over this before we left. You can’t do that.” He speaks with anger. “I could really hurt you.”

  Here I am again, in the darkness. The walls surround me on all sides. I beg and claw the walls, but he slams the door closed again. My eyes squeeze shut as I try to hum a simple tune. Praying the sound will make it stop.

  I open my eyes. Cole stares at me with sweat dripping off his forehead. His face is stern, as if waiting for me to answer his question.

  “Sorry…”

  “I bet.” He bends down, picks up my glasses, and hands them to me.

  Boxes and broken furniture block our path, and we climb over piles of trash. The alley opens up to another street. Across from me looms the entrance to the hospital. Guards stand watch from the surrounding buildings and people flood the street. They part for Cole as we cross. Their faces show mixed expressions, ranging from fear to hatred. There’s older people and children without brands.

  They must’ve been born here.

  He opens the door and leads me into the lobby. It smells like crap mixed with flowers. The walls, made of cement blocks, are painted a dull gray that goes on endlessly. Drywall from the ceiling crumbles onto the cement floor, leaving a dusty powder that mixes with whatever else lies there. My feet stick to it. My slipper comes off and my foot touches something wet. I reach down to grab it when I realize I’m standing in a puddle of old vomit. Just when I think I’ve been through the worst, something else causes me to feel ill again. Then I puke right next to the pile I just stepped in.

  “Wow, that’s disgusting,” Cole says. “Your stomach sucks.”

  “Tell me about it. My throat’s killing me,” I say.

  A middle-aged woman with orange hair sits at a crooked table. She doesn’t look up while we stand there for what seems like forever, and I observe the violet brand on her slender neck. Pride.

  Cole clears his throat. She glances up as she shows me an ID tag with my name and picture on the left side.

  “Make sure it’s you,” she says in a squeaky voice. It’s labeled “8 West” on the right side with my photo and the name “Dr. Sutton” in the bottom left corner.

  Cole reaches over and yanks my tag out of her hand. “She’ll need to wear it, not stare at it.” The woman snaps to attention and glares at him, but he doesn’t seem to care.

  I don’t even have my tag on when he snaps, “You coming or you just going to stand there?”

  I lean against the sheet metal wall in the elevator while he pushes the number eight. From this angle, he looks more intimidating. I can’t see around his broad shoulders, so I look at the back of his head and notice a small patch of hair he missed while buzzing it.

  He taps his fingers on his thigh as we move upward but doesn’t speak. I wonder what he thinks about being my guard. I’m sure it’s not something he wanted or chose to do. And then there’s Zeus. It’s perplexing why Cole loves such a colossal doofus of a dog.

  We stand in front of a door with the name “Dr. Sutton” carved into the wood.

  “Who is it?” asks a deep voice. It’s low like a distant rumble.

  “It’s Cole, sir.” A beep follows a click and then the door swings open, revealing a well-lit room with a desk at the opposite end. Two chairs sit in front of it. Pictures of the ocean hang on the walls, and a sign hangs opposite.

  Treat everyone equal. We are all born the same and die the same.

  Hmmm. I didn’t expect to see that.

  “Lexi. Lexi Hamilton.” The way he says my name would make you think he knows me.

  My eyes snap to his face, but I don’t recognize him. He walks around the desk and reaches out his hand, enveloping mine with roughness and strength.

  “Yes, nice to meet you, sir.”

  He smiles and sits down at his desk, gesturing me to sit as well. He looks up at Cole. “You’re free to go. I’ll take it from here. Hey, just remember to be back by seven when she’s done with her shift.”

  “It’s just orientation. Page me when you’re done with her.” Cole whistles at Zeus, who pops his head out of the trash. Zeus looks up, and a piece of tape is stuck between his eyes.

  “Oh, dear God. Let’s go. You know that scary face you made earlier? Totally down the drain.” He talks to Zeus as if he understands every word that comes out of his mouth.

  “She’ll still be done at seven,” Sutton says.

  “I’ll be here,” Cole says.

  I shift my weight in the chair and glance up at Dr. Sutton. He looks about forty years old, salt-and-pepper hair, with some deep creases in his forehead and a crooked nose. The sea-green scrubs bring out his eyes. He reaches down into a drawer.

  “Are you thirsty?”

  “Um… sure.”

  He tosses me a bottle of water. Catching it with trembling hands, I twist the cap off and force it down my throat. The thin layer of soot I accumulated from the journey made my tongue swell. He catches me staring at the sign as he leans back and crosses his arms.

  “Obviously, I’m Dr. Sutton, but please, just call me Sutton.”

  “All right.”

  “I’m the only licensed doctor here, and what few supplies we have, I’ve paid for. So I expect you to treat them with respect, and if you try to steal anything, I’ll cut off your arms.”

  “I would never…”

  “Good, then you have nothing to worry about. I do things a little differently here. You work your way up and learn as you go. I’m willing to teach, if you’re willing to learn. There are nurse’s aides and nurses who will work with you and show you the ropes. Make sure you pay close attention to detail and ask them any questions you have. It might take years to get to a nursing level, but if you strive for it, you’ll get there.”

  He has a serious look about him, a professionalism I imagine isn’t found here often. “I don’t care about your past. You have a new beginning with me. So as far as I’m concerned, you’re just a fellow employee. It’s up to you, though, what you make of yourself. Oh, and I don’t give second chances. If you go behind my back in any way or break the rules, you’ll be reported to the commander. If you try to escape, I will catch you. Understood?”

  “I understand and I won’t let you down.” I don’t know why I said the last part. Maybe it’s because he seems compassionate, yet strong, and maybe he reminds me just a little of my own father by the way he looks at me. Either way, my muscles begin to relax, and I find myself meeting his eyes and enjoying the warmth in them.

  The only warmth here.

  “I need to warn you about a few things. Well, a lot of things, actually. Just because you’re in a hospital doesn’t mean you’re safe. There’s been a fair amount of murders, rapes, and thefts in the last couple of months. Don’t go off the floor. Don’t wander alone. If you’re uncomfortable around a certain patient, don’t go into their room
without someone. If they ask you to do them favors—refuse. Don’t accept gifts, money, or anything they offer. Just the other week, a nurse ate chocolate that was given to her by a patient she adored and died from rat poison.” He pauses. “I’ve read a lot about you, and I know everything.”

  My eyes bulge with surprise. He clears his throat but tries to be discreet about it while closing the folder he’s holding.

  Does everyone know about me around here? I wonder what he read. No doubt, he read about my sin, but what other information is there?

  “Come with me,” he says.

  As I follow Sutton down the hall, my stomach somersaults. I grip the front of my shirt as sweat drips down my back. I hate the unknown. New things intimidate me and the last few days have been nothing but new. It makes me feel devoid of any energy at all.

  I hear nurses laugh and then immediately turn and whisper as I pass.

  “Ignore them,” Sutton tells me.

  “I’ll try.”

  Men whistle from their rooms, and I keep my head locked in place.

  “I love me a naughty nurse,” one says. “Can you bathe me, sweetie?”

  Again, the nurses laugh and Sutton shakes his head. I want to curl into a ball and roll far away from here. Being called something you’re not gets really old.

  I put my fingers in my ears, trying to make it look like I’m rubbing them, and enjoy the muffled voices. Sutton takes me around the hospital floor, showing me where everything is and where not to go.

  “Do you usually give tours?” I ask.

  He chuckles. “This is actually my day off. I just came in to catch up on some charting. We got slammed last night, and I couldn’t keep up. But it all worked out. Since I had to come back and finish my paperwork, I got to meet you and show you around. Something I never get the chance to do.”

  I try to suppress my surprise, but it’s hard to do. Why would a doctor want to do my orientation?

  “You actually keep records here?” I ask.