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“You better hopethis bruise goes away in time for the showcase. You’re not supposed to mark up new products. Certainly not ones as anticipated as this one,” scolds the gray woman. She clicks her tongue at Cesar, the Handler. The look of disapproval she gives him would be touching if it were on my behalf and not due to the fact that he’s ‘damaged’ what she considers merchandise that’ll soon be for sale.
Me.
When Cesar backhanded me in the interrogation room, it was a hit that left me reeling, seeing stars before my eyes. It was hard enough that it’s bruised and caused noticeable swelling along my cheek.
A problem if I’m to be put up for auction in a few days.
“It’ll heal,” rasps Cesar, giving me an unconcerned once over.
I’m in a medical gown, awaiting the doctor that’s supposed to come give me a full exam. I protested to the bitter end… until they dragged me into the medical room furnished with an exam table and plenty of medical equipment,includingstirrups.
“And if it doesn’t?” the gray woman asks with a nasty grimace on her pallid, unremarkable face.
“Then have one of the flunkies that do make up cover it up. I don’t know what the fuck you want me to say, Theresa. The bitch put up a fight. I had to put her in her place.”
I’m left alone with the gray woman—whose name is apparently Theresa—and we wait out the last few minutes for the doctor to show.
He’s as unfriendly and uncompromising as every other employee at the Mill. I question his qualifications to no answer. He doesn’t provide any answers regarding anything that goes on during the examination, simply giving plaintive directions, like telling me to take a deep inhale when listening with a stethoscope, and ordering me to hold out my forearm when withdrawing blood.
I’m given a full STD panel and pregnancy test. I’m injected with an implant into my arm.
By the end, Theresa escorts me out by rebinding my wrists, and leading me to what’s become my new home.
A cage.
A large, human-sized, metal-barred cage that’s one of dozens. At the Mill, the humans that have become ‘products’ as they like to call us, are each assigned their own cage. I’m told there’s an entire floor with halls lined by cages. Each one is filled up with dead-eyed, broken-down people who have all but given up at any other kind of existence than this.
Theresa shoves me inside my cage and swings it shut, locking it, and walking away without sparing a look.
I’ve wound up on the floor, having tripped from the hard shove. A slow, dejected sigh leaves me as I sit on the cold, concrete ground, and survey my new reality.
The others in the cages shrink away from the bars. They each seem to exist in the farthest corner of their cages, eager to be as forgotten as possible in their four by five foot space.
At least in the time they’re not due to be sold. Schedules exist for everyone held captive.
From what I’ve gathered, on the days they’re forced to be sold, they’re off from other duties. On the days they’re not scheduled to be sold, they’re tasked with various menial jobs around the Mill.
That’s if they’re not dragged away for some unknown reason.
More than once I witness the cage door of someone in my hall being cranked open, only for the poor woman inside to be dragged out, kicking and screaming.
They’re never seen from again when that happens.
My stomach roils watching the latest hysterical woman hauled off despite her desperate protests. I stand at the bars, gripping them, chewing on my tongue to keep from speaking out.
I’ve never been good at watching others being victimized. Even as a girl, even when outnumbered, I’ve always had a deep belief to stand up for what I felt was right.
Standing by helpless as the atrocities take place inside the Mill is indescribable; it’s being forced to bear witness to the worst kinds of human evil imaginable.
“Shame, I liked her,” says the woman in the cage across from mine. She’s the only one other than myself who’s ventured closer to the metal bars. Her dull emerald gaze snaps to mine from her side of the hall. “Don’t look so upset, ADA. She’ll be replaced within a day. Tops. No money lost, right? That’s all that matters to the rich and powerful.”
I blink, taken aback by her direct address. “You… you know me?”
“Everyoneknowsyou. Anyone who has been in the city for more than five minutes. WhatIwant to know is, how does someone like you wind up here?” she asks, clicking her tongue and shaking her head. “Silver spoon and fancy clothes. What’d you do to get put in here? You must’ve pissed off somebody important—”
I turn away from the bars, unable to bear her growing zeal. It only builds until she’s calling out conspiracy theories with loud fanatical laughter from her cage. One of the guards finally catches wind and shuts her up with an electric cattle prod. She doesn’t speak for the rest of the night.
I sink to the ground in the far corner and fold my legs up to my chest. I’m simultaneously exhausted and full of anxious energy all at once.
