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Lilith directs Titus to the east entrance and knocks three times against the cab’s rear window, which seems to be a signal for all the women in the back to settle into whatever plan they discussed before meeting up with us. When I turn around, I notice all of them sit with their heads bowed, faces downtrodden. Defeated.

“You might do well to look like you’ve had a hard time out here. You want them to believe you’re in need of sanctuary.”

With a nod, I bow my head, swallowing back the nervous jitters of anxiety, as we approach the guards posted before a tall iron gate.

“What’s your business here?” A guard, in an unmistakable black Legion uniform, stands outside of Titus’s window, peering in on me and Lilith.

“Women looking for sanctuary,” Titus answers, his voice far more gruff and intimidating.

“I’ve not seen you before.” The guard stares a little too long at Titus, and I wonder if he’s caught sight of the red marks at his throat.

Titus keeps his gaze forward, not bothering to look at the man beside him, at all. “Word travels.”

It’s when I glance over that the officer’s eyes meet mine, and the furrow of his brow tells me he recognizes me.

“There’s a reward on this one.”

“I’m aware,” Titus answers in his usual unimpressed tone. “Are you going to let us in, or not?”

The guard lifts a walkie-talkie to his face, his gaze never wavering from me. “We have a cargo of females. They seem to be from the Deadlands. More than usual. The girl is with them. Thalia. Can you receive them?”

“Let them pass.” The chilling voice of Mother Chilson echoes from his speaker and skates down my spine.

At the raise of the guard’s hand, the gate opens, and my stomach nearly flips over on itself. I can hardly swallow past the sudden dryness in my throat, while the truck rolls down a long driveway toward an enormous gothic-style building ahead.

“Why didn’t they check for weapons?” I twist around to look at all of the women huddled together in the back of the truck.

Lilith snorts beside me, shaking her head. “When have men ever had to fear women? When have we ever been a threat to them?”

She’s right. My own father believed the same, and treated me, my whole life, as if my gender was a handicap. The only time I’ve ever had the balls to really fight back, I was cast out of my home and ridiculed for my impudence.

With a glance to the side, I nod. “It’s time they regret underestimating you.”

“And you.” She turns away from me, as if including me is difficult to admit. “I’ve not forgotten that left hook.”

Smiling, I ball my hand into a fist, recalling my first successful punch. “If it makes you feel better, I practiced on Titus. Every one of my knuckles have been bruised for it.”

“Doesn’t make my jaw feel any better.”

The truck slows to a stop in front of the convent, whose brick exterior lies mostly hidden behind the vines that crawl over it. The place gives off an eerie vibe, almost haunted, the way its steeple pierces the sky like a rigid pillar of virtue. To think, this is where I was destined to spend the next five years of my life.

There’s a part of me that’s reluctant to go inside, uncertain of what’s to come. As many times as my father has come home telling stories of their surprise attacks on marauders, I’ve never personally felt the rush of adrenaline moments before. The fear of failure looming in the background. The smell of death waiting in the wings.

The thick, wooden doors of the convent open on the familiar face of Mother Chilson, who’s flanked by two sisters, and two Legion officers strapped with guns. I slide my satchel over my head, and the knives inside clack against each other. As I exit the truck, her eyes instantly fall on me, and I can practically see the images inside her head, the instant replay of that day, the last time I saw her, when she condemned me to hell for what I’d done.

She scoffs, making her way down the stone stairs, toward me. “Well, well. Look who it is. We thought you’d perished to the wolves.”

Hoped, I imagine. “Ah, well, you couldn’t be so lucky, I guess.”

Still cloaked in their blankets, the women hop off the back of the truck, and I notice they seem to be careful not to make noise with their weapons. The fact that the guards stand relaxed is a testament of the trust they’ve seen prior to now, a thought that only stokes my anger. How many women and children have been dumped here, only to fall victim to whatever happens within those walls?

“And who is this man you’ve taken up with?”

I glance back toward Titus, and recall what Lilith said earlier about looking distressed. “He … captured us. All of us.”

“Very good.” She nods toward Titus, who strides up to my side, settling my nerves only a slight bit. “You’ll be rewarded for returning her to us. I’ll have my officers load the back of your truck with food and supplies, as promised.

“Appreciate it.”