“Every little girl’s nightmare,” she chuckles. “And remember, these walls are thick. No one is going to hear you scream.”
No.
I swivel around, looking for escape, but her hand holds me hard. “We’ll be back later to pick up the pieces.”
My eyes implore the new guard, Peek. For a second I’m sure I see a flicker of remorse, but then it’s gone again.
The door opens and I’m shoved onto the gymnasium floor. I hit the concrete hard, the impact sending jarring pain through my already bruised kneecaps.
Quickly, I scramble to my feet, and look around.
Shit. This place is obviously the “home” of the no-men. They don’t have cells or beds, just ragged blankets heaped around the edges of the room. And a line of stinking buckets. The men look up, faces pale and worn and their stained red scrubs give off a stench so potent I can taste it on the back of my tongue.
Behind me the door closes, and I hear the sound of a bolt being slid across.
OK. So these guys are the ones who didn’t make it on to either the Diggers or the Guild. The misfits, the downtrodden, the abandoned.
They look like ghosts, too hollowed out to care about a Digger girl getting thrown into their midst. Hopefully.
But when the men turn in my direction, I see it instantly. Fuck. I’m wrong.
What I see is cruel delight. Finally they can take out their pain on someone smaller and weaker.
“The Warden must want us to have a little fun,” one of them rasps. He’s short, with a twisted nose and a missing front tooth. “I guess the bitch needs to learn what it’s like at the bottom.”
“You ever been forced to take whatever anyone else wants to give you?” another calls out, grabbing his crotch. “Because you’re in no-man’s land now, and that’s your fucking initiation.”
They begin to converge, circling me, breathing heavily.
“Stay the fuck back,” I growl, bringing my fists up. My ballet-trained muscles tense for a fight I know I can’t win.
Gods. All I can do is try.
The men don’t wait. The first lunges—a clumsy grab from one who still looks like a child. His face is gaunt, but his eyes are filled with malice.
Scrawny though he is, he expects me to cower and scream.
Instead, I find my center. My weight shifts onto the balls of my feet, and as he reaches for my throat, I drop into a deep full knee bend, slipping under his outstretched arms. I don’t punch; I’m aware my knuckles are feeble, instead, I drive the heel of my palm upward, catching him squarely under the chin.
The crack of his teeth snapping together echoes in the hollow gym.
"Fuck!" he screeches, stumbling back into the others, who jeer at the boy’s failure.
Not much camaraderie in this bunch, apparently. The man with the twisted nose lets out a guttural roar, and comes at me.
I spin, whipping my leg out, catching him on the temple. But it’s not enough, just a passing blow at best.
A third no-man joins the attack.
“Stay the fuck back!” I scream, but arms grab me from behind, their grip like iron. I kick out again, but the combined weight pulls me down.
The scent of unwashed bodies and foul breath fills my lungs. Fingers claw and paw. It’s like being drowned in a sea of rats. My back arches as I try to buck them off, but the pressure is too much.
I can’t breathe.
“Look at those blue eyes,” one of them rasps. “Think they’ll fill with tears as I fuck your ass?”
A hand fumbles with the zipper of my jumpsuit. I twist my head, trying to bite, trying to scratch, but I’m being pulled apart.
