Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Once aboard, we’re taken down, deep into the belly of the ship, to a dark, dank room that resembles a dungeon of sorts. I exhale a breath of relief, even though I feel my reaction isn’t right. But this is familiar. My handcuffs are removed and I’m placed in shackles that line the wall. I breathe in deeply again. I am used to this. My wrists almost welcome the chaffing of metal.
I keep my eyes downward, not looking at my companions, until the doors are shut and we’re cast into a semi-darkness. Ahead of us, there’s a table with overhead lighting, and several armed guards sit watching us.
“Pity they don’t let us sample the wares,” the man who struck me says in a thick English accent.
“Shut it, you bastard,” another says.
“They’re pretty,” he says in self-defense, and I’m not the only one who shifts uncomfortably. We’re nothing more than lambs led to slaughter.
A door opens above us, and someone walks down the ladder to where we huddle together. I blink in surprise. It’s the man who was in the office earlier. The guards fall into immediate silence, sitting up straighter. They fear this man.
“Welcome, ladies,” he says, turning to address us. “You are the elite, you know,” he says, in his gritty, gravelly voice, like a pleased headmaster addressing a roomful of freshmen at orientation. “Unsullied by other men, you’ll be presented to your future masters as pure and virginal. Be sure to remember your training, and no harm will come to you.”
But he lies. This isn’t truth, and I know it isn’t when someone begins to cry quietly beside me. I blink, trying to process where I am. Who I am. What he’s telling us.
Our future masters?
He goes on and on about expectations, then tells us the auction is tonight.
“You’ll be taken one at a time to be prepared, then out to the main arena. Be quiet down here, so you don’t disturb our guests. Soon, after those of you who are chosen are taken to the main deck, you’ll be free to sleep where your master bids you.”
Those of you who are chosen.
Does that mean some of us will return to the warehouse? I shiver when I see gleaming silver cages being brought up the small flight of stairs. I know these cages well. They fold for transportation. Large enough for slight women like us.
We eat in silence, our food served on metal trays. We’re uncuffed in small groups to be allowed time to eat, which we do hurriedly. The man from the office watches all with a stern, foreboding expression. A young blonde woman with frightened eyes is taken first, escorted out by two men. She bows her head and walks quietly between them. But when a second is taken, she begins to scream and flail. She fights the guards, and they immediately restrain her.
The man in charge takes her by the hair. I wince in sympathetic pain when he yanks her head back so harshly she screams in pain. “Who deemed her ready?” he asks in a voice of deadly calm.
“Blykov,” one says. I can’t focus on what they say next, for the name triggers something. Blykov.
Blykov.
Do I know that name? It isn’t quite right, but it reminds me of something…
I shake my head, when I realize the screams have been muffled. They’ve gagged her, and someone’s putting a hood over her head. “Bring her back,” the cold leader orders. “Punish her for disturbing our operation, and release Blykov permanently.”
She writhes and though her screams are muffled, they break my heart. I want to comfort her. The rest of us fall into utter silence when the leader folds his hands behind his back.
“Anyone else want to scream in protest? Disturb the peace, as it were?”
A chorus of “No, sir,” rises in the small area.
“Very well. Next.”
Two guards approach me, one on either side, dragging me toward the exit. I freeze, unable to cooperate, at the thought of being brought upstairs. I will be sold. They’re going to sell me. To whom? What will they do with me?
“No,” I whisper, shaking my head. My feet are sealed in concrete, too heavy to move.
“You saw what happened to the other girl,” one guard says menacingly in my ear. “You want the same, do you?”
I shake my head. No, I do not. The guard grasps my arm so firmly I gasp in pain.
“Do not harm her,” the man in charge growls. The guard drops his hand so quickly I stumble.
“You fool,” he chides. “We’re selling these women for the highest profit we’ve ever seen, and you’d harm our wares before we’ve even displayed them?”
They drag me in front of him. I keep my eyes cast down as I’ve been taught. I’m walking to my demise, trembling so badly I can hardly walk.