Locked Together (In Chains)
Michelle Abbott grew up in London in the United...
LOCKED TOGETHER
by Michelle Abbott
Copyright © 2013 Michelle Abbott
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author, except for reviewers who may quote parts of the book for review purposes.
Cover design by Rainbow Rose Productions
http://rainbowrosecovers.blogspot.co.uk/
CHAPTER ONE
Savannah
“Hurry up and get these dishes cleared away,” the guard yells.
Amy places her hand on my shoulder. “You stay with your friend, I’ll take care of it.”
It’s good to see Kayden again; I’ve missed him so much this past month. I bury my head in his neck and breathe in his familiar scent and the feel of his muscles beneath my fingertips. I step back to get a better look at him. I was so excited to see him that I didn’t notice he’s wearing a uniform, similar to a surgeon’s scrubs, except it’s grey and a red stripe runs down the leg of his pants. I stare at the thin metal collar around his neck and my gaze falls to the thick, metal bands encasing his wrists. I instinctively reach up to touch my neck; I hope they don’t make me wear a collar. He’s not wearing his bandanna and his hair has been shaved short. I glance around at the three slaves who came in with him; they’re all wearing the same uniform, cuffs and collars. I’m about to ask Kayden about it when Amy taps me on the shoulder. “We need to wash up and clean the kitchen,” she says.
Reluctantly, I let go of Kayden. “I’ll see you in a minute,” I tell him. As I turn to walk away he grabs my arm.
“You’re in level one, right?” he asks. I have no idea what level one is and am about to tell him so when Amy yanks me away.
“We need to go clean up now or we’ll get into trouble,” she says, pulling me along behind her. I’ll get to spend the night with Kayden and I can ask him about the uniforms and the levels then. Amy and I finish cleaning up. I poke my head into the dining room, but it’s empty. I didn’t notice Kayden or the other three slaves come out through the kitchen.
Amy moves to stand by the door on a thick yellow line that looks like it’s been painted onto the floor. I stand on the line behind her. The female guard that showed me around presses her thumb against a pad and the door unlocks. We walk through the sewing room, she unlocks another door and we’re now in a courtyard. I head over to the sleeping quarters that she pointed out to me earlier and wait for her to open the door. “What do you think you’re doing?” she asks me.
“Waiting to be let into the sleeping quarters?” I reply, puzzled by her question.
“You will refer to me as ma’am.” She looks me up and down. “Lower your gaze; learn your place or I’ll have you punished.” I quickly lower my eyes and stare at her feet. “That isn’t where you sleep, it’s for storage.”
I look up at her, frowning. “But you said-”
My head jerks to the side as she slaps me around the face. “I didn’t give you permission to speak. Lower your gaze.” I look down at the floor and rub my fingers along my burning cheek. I’m sure she pointed out the sleeping quarters when she first brought me in here, there were mattresses and blankets on the floor, I’m not imagining it. “I’ll cut you some slack being as you’re not a slave and you haven’t been trained yet, but not everyone is going to be so understanding. The sooner you learn to obey the rules the better it will be for you. Follow me.” It’s so unfair, she’s the one who told me I’d be sleeping there, she pointed the rooms out to me and yet I’m in the wrong for waiting at the wrong door. I wonder if it’s some kind of tactic they use to exercise their control.
She leads us to a large single story building. This whole place is much bigger than I first thought when I arrived. She once again presses her thumb against a pad and opens the door. It slams shut as soon as Amy and I pass through and it suddenly hits me that I’m no longer free, that I have no way of getting out of this room, I’m trapped. I take several deep breaths to try to calm down. I glance back at the door, the guard has gone. This room is huge; there are rows of metal framed bunk beds along both walls and another row going down the middle of the room. It looks like they’re bolted to the floor. There are no windows. Dull fluorescent lights blinks down on us. Amy taps my shoulder. “Find an empty bunk to sleep in,” she says. Kayden must be in here somewhere, I’ll sleep with him. I walk along the first row of bunks; I can clearly see who is laying in the bottom bunks but not so much the top bunks, not for the first time I wish I was taller. I don’t notice him so I walk by the middle row and finally the bunks along the far wall. No sign of Kayden. He must be in one of the top bunks. I don’t want to disturb anyone but I’m going to have to call out for him, I can’t go climbing up to every top bunk, and anyway, that would just disturb everyone even more. I walk back along the row, calling his name. A few heads pop up, they’re frowning and looking at me strangely, none of them are Kayden. I continue calling out his name, a few people tell me to shush. Surely he can hear me, or is he so tired he’s already asleep? I spot an empty lower bunk and crawl into it, pulling the thin blanket over myself, and curl up into a ball. It’s silent except for the buzzing from the florescent lights, I wonder if they’re going to leave them on all night. It’ll be hard to sleep with the lights on, but I think I prefer it to being in darkness in a room with fifty strangers. I’m thankful to have a bed rather than a mattress on the floor, although the mattress isn’t comfortable, it’s thin and lumpy, stinks of stale sweat and squeaks every time I move. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to take my mind to a better place. I’ll find Kayden in the morning when everyone’s awake.
I wake with a start and clap my hands over my ears. What on earth is that noise? It sounds like a siren, is there a fire? I look around, people are sitting up in bed but no one looks panicked. After a few seconds the irritating noise stops. I rub my hands over my face, I need a cigarette, coffee, shower and I want to brush my teeth, preferably in that order. I realise the cigarette and coffee are a no go, I wanted to quit smoking anyway but the lack of nicotine is making me tense. I recall the guard saying I get one shower a week, I wonder when I’ll get to wash my clothes and what I’ll wear while I’m washing them. They haven’t given me any other clothes, nothing to sleep in, so I was forced to sleep fully dressed. Now everyone is awake I’ll be able to find Kayden. I’m puzzled why he didn’t come looking for me last night. I stand up and stretch my muscles. Looking down I realise I slept with my shoes on, it’s going to take me a long time to get used to being here. A few people are getting up and walking around and everyone else is sitting up in bed as I walk along the aisle, it will be easy to find Kayden now.
He’s not here, where is he? “Amy, is there another dorm?” I ask. She’s looking at me, confused, so I try again. “Are all the slaves sleeping in this room? Or is there a second room?”
She shakes her head. “There’s just this room. What’s wrong, you look upset?”
“I was looking for my boyfriend and I can’t find him. If this is the only room he should be here, why isn’t he here?”
She looks at me blankly, and then shrugs. “I dunno. They’re going to let us out soon, to fix breakfast.”
I fold my arms across my chest. I don’t feel well, I feel like I’m going to be sick. I need some air; I need to get out of this place. I need a cigarette. I walk over towards the door. Two yellow lines run from the door to the far wall. I sigh, when are they going to let us out? There’s a sign attached to the wall, I may as well read it, it’ll pass some time. It’s a safety notice and a list of rules, but not for the slaves. I laugh to myself, written rules for the slaves would be pointless seeing as they can’t read. According to this they are supposed to have a fire drill once a week. I never even thought what would happen if there was a fire. My mouth goes dry, there are so many locked doors to get through, we’d burn to death. I’ll be sure to pay attention when they do the drill. There are rules about making sure doors are locked and checking that the knives are still attached to the chains in the kitchen. Hmm, it says here we should be getting a daily shower right before they lock us up for the night, have the rules changed and they haven’t updated the notice? I check the date the notice was written, two years ago. The siren sounds again and I sense movement behind me. The slaves are lining up along the yellow lines. The door opens and I gasp in shock as my head is yanked backwards. Someone has their fist in my hair and they’re dragging me along. I’m pushed into line behind the other slaves. “When you hear the alarm, line up at the door.” It’s a female guard, she looks young, not much older than me, slim and has blond hair tied back in a ponytail. She’s scowling at me, her hands resting on her hips. She doesn’t speak as she unlocks doors and escorts us to the kitchen. The slaves troop through to sit in the dining room.
The guard sits down at the desk, alert, watching us and she’s making me feel uncomfortable. “So, what’s for breakfast?” I whisper to Amy. I don’t know if we’re allowed to talk.
“Porridge,” Amy answers, her voice its usual volume. I guess talking is allowed.
I wouldn’t really describe what we’re making as porridge, more like water with a few oats floating in it and I bet it’s going to taste as bad as it looks. I help Amy carry the large pot through to the dining room; she fetches the bowls and piles them on one of the long tables. “Are you done?” the guard asks.
“Yes ma’am,” Amy answers.
Within five minutes they’ve all eaten. The siren sounds and they all line up on yet another yellow line. The guard opens the door and they leave. “There’s just enough porridge left for us,” Amy says as she spoons the last of it into our bowls.
“Are we making a fresh pot for the other slaves?” I ask.
“What other slaves?” Amy says.
I take a spoonful of porridge and grimace. It’s cold and tastes like salt water with bits in it. I can’t eat this, I’d rather go hungry. I take a sip of water to wash away the foul taste from my mouth. “Remember at dinner last night, four slaves came in later than everyone else, one of them was my boyfriend, they were all wearing uniforms.” I’m hoping this will jog her memory.
“Oh yeah, they never come for breakfast, I’ve only ever seen them at dinner. Do you want that?” She nods her head in the direction of my porridge.
“Err…no, you can have it if you want.” I’m never going to see Kayden; I won’t be sleeping with him or eating with him. Where is he? I want to cry, I’ve made a big mistake coming here. Closing my eyes I pull in a deep breath.
CHAPTER TWO
Savannah
The guard returns to the kitchen as Amy and I are washing up. “Leave that,” she says to me, “you’re working in the fields today. Someone will be coming for you in a minute.”
Fields? I don’t know anything about growing things; it’s the kiss of death for a pot plant if I own it. “Erm…they said I’d be working in the laundry.”
I’m knocked sideways by the force of her slap; I can taste blood in my mouth. She grabs hold of the hair at the back of my head and brings her face close to mine. “Shut up,” she snarls. “I didn’t give you permission to speak.”