“Dasia Jane. Emily Jane. You have been named for cleansing,” his second in command announced loudly.
A few tense seconds passed with no one speaking or moving. The world itself felt as if it had stopped turning and was now holding its breath. This was the part where both parties named were to stand and obediently go along with the night’s itinerary.
However, unlike the younger girls or those newly acquired, the ones that still had pitiful naivety, each of us within these four walls knew that once Dasia and Emily left this room, we would never see them again.
Dasia being selected had given me hope all would be well. We were going to assimilate.
This evening was no longer supposed to be a possibility.
Now, facing the inevitable, I found it impossible to idly sit by and watch one of my only friends being dragged away and punished for doing something as natural as aging.
“You’re wrong,” I objected.
“Star,” Claire hissed in warning.
Forcibly untangling my fingers from Dasia’s, I gritted my teeth and scooted my aching body forward, ignoring both Claire and the sharp pain radiating up and down my back.
Hendrix’s lips lifted in an amused grin, and he nudged the man beside him. “She must not have gotten enough last night.”
I ignored that jab. I’d been subjected to crucifixion more times than I could count on both hands, no pun intended. I was above the taunts.
His timeline was off, anyway.
Technically, I had been delivered back to my room a mere six hours ago, directly after my wounds were tended. Not last night.
Standing from the bed, I straightened my spine and stared into Hendrix’s brown, beady eyes. Flesh feeling as if it were going to split open more than it already had, I locked my legs to prevent myself from sinking back down.
“Dasia was selected by Exarch Mosley, personally. Your chart is wrong.”
Hendrix stepped forward, lining steel-toed boots with barren feet.
“No, little girl. You’re the one who is wrong. Moss changed his mind and wisely chose Bridgette, the blonde with the peach-shaped ass. So, you’d best go on and step out of my way.”
With a slight shake of my head, I refused.
I was unable to willingly let her go no matter how stupidly futile this was. I was pushing it, practically begging to be severely punished once again for my insubordination.
I didn’t care.
“Star, it’s okay,” Dasia whispered, her voice breaking.
Unable to affix the mask I wore so often to hide my emotions, Hendrix was able to see my small ember of hope fading right before his merciless eyes. I knew he took great pleasure in snuffing it out.
“Take them,” he commanded, slamming a fist into my midsection. I doubled over, choking out a “No,” and clutching my stomach. Pushed aside with ease, I lifted my head just as one of the soldiers took hold of Dasia’s forearm and began to haul her towards the exit.
In one minuscule second, a small lapse of time between submitting or going on the offense, I chose the latter. Anger and hatred burned like acid in my aching gut, disintegrating every rational thought my brain tried to present. A rageful scream poured from my lungs, rendering Hendrix motionless for the briefest moment.
The pain riddling my body was wiped away by an onslaught of adrenaline. I lunged at him. Unprepared for my attack, he stumbled to the side. I clung to his form, tangling bruised fingers in fistfuls of hair. I fully intended to tear it from his scalp.
This would never be enough. I couldn’t implement the kind of pain he did when he delivered a set of lashes to my back. But it felt good.
Claire and Marcy followed my lead, feebly attempting to save Dasia.
Cries came from the other side of the room as Emily was dragged away by another solider, who must have been lingering in the hall.
A stray palm collided with my nose, and I found myself flying, landing with a soft “humph,” near the end of another bunk. Blood spurted from my nostrils, siphoning to my lips. It didn’t immediately faze me. The taste of it was one I had become accustomed to.
“What are you doing?” Hendrix yelled at the man who had struck me. “No hits to her face!” He shoved his hands through his hair to smooth it back down, huffing and puffing like an enraged bull. His eyes bored down on me and I couldn’t help but sneer up at him.