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When he failed to remove it, he kicked me one last time in the back of my head. Pain exploded in my skull, and I saw stars.
A door slammed, and then they were gone. As the taillights faded, darkness eagerly swallowed me up.
CHAPTER TWO
When the sun rose, the heat rose with it.
Sawdust and little bits of grass clung to my sweaty, swollen face. I was still on the side of the road, battling with myself not to give up.
My father would never expect me to survive and that had me realizing for the first time in nineteen years that I was free. This was not where my story would end—not when it hadn’t even begun yet.
I was so goddamn tired, though. The thought of moving almost gave me anxiety, but I couldn’t continue to idle on the side of the road. If someone out here found me in such a pathetic condition, I stood no chance against them.
I tugged at the twine around my wrists for the hundredth time to no avail. Gritting my teeth against an onslaught of pain radiating from my ass, I used my core muscles and legs to push off the ground, hissing as my ribs protested.
Once on my feet, I swayed and fought to stay upright. Glancing around through one good eye, I took in the scenery surrounding me.
I’d never been to the Badlands before.I’d never been allowed to venture away from The Order. I had no idea where to go. Left and right were both long stretches of road surrounded by fields of…nothing.
Taking a gamble, I chose right. I avoided the smoking blacktop by walking along the edge of the street. I didn’t know what the hell I was going to do, but at least I was moving—albeit slowly. I walked and walked and walked.
My chest heaved with every strangled breath I took as I attempted to get some saliva in my mouth. Sweat rolled from my brow to my cracked lips.
How long would it take for my heart to give out? Every pump of blood it pushed through my veins was like a solid rasp on a bass drum reverberating in my brain. All the aches and pains from the day before were now stiff and sore. My left eye had swollen to the size of a golf ball, limiting visibility. My habit only added to my struggles,
the heavy black garment weighing me down and serving as a beacon for the sun.
Eventually, I stopped to rest against a tree that offered some semblance of shade, telling myself it was just for a few seconds. My vision was fuzzy and my legs could barely hold me up. The view looked the same as when I started, making me feel like I hadn’t really gone anywhere.
I knew that I could survive this. I just needed to keep walking for as long as I could without falling down. I willed myself to believe that everything would be all right; no negative thinking, no analyzing or processing anything that had happened.
When I began to doze in and out of consciousness, my inner voice failed to get me moving again. It wasn’t until a cool rag was placed over my face that I woke enough to realize I was in a moving vehicle and my hands were free.
“Is that her?” a man whispered. I think my head was on his lap.
“I’m not sure. Is she doing anything yet?” another man answered, sounding a little farther away.
“Well, she’s breathin, isn’t she?”
“Smartass,” the distant voice grumbled.
“Why do they make them dress like nuns? This holy shit fries my brain.”
“You know they’re a bunch of freaks, bro. I just hope they don’t have Tilly.”
Tilly! He knew Tilly?
She’s dead! I tried to tell him, but my mouth wouldn’t work.
Hearing her name broke open the floodgates I was trying to keep closed. The memory of her body burning to a crisp was all too fresh. It was an ugly festering wound I didn’t know how to begin fixing.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to give myself a minute to fall apart and mourn the first person I had found friendship with, but I was too mentally and physically exhausted.
As I began to slip away again, I felt grubby fingers back on my skin, finding their way to the cross around my neck. I must have made some sort of sound because the gentle touch disappeared when my head lolled.
“Can you hear me? Can you tell me who you are?”
I could hear him, but I couldn’t tell him who I was because I didn’t know. I could tell him what I was supposed to be and what I was made to do; that ever since I was a little girl, my daddy used me as a pawn to further his agenda, passing me around to men three times my age since I was a ripe eleven to perform sexual favors. I was a living, breathing sex doll for a colony of men and women. I was condemned and convicted for being different and misunderstood.
