Branded
by Abi Ketner and Missy Kalicicki
Genre: Older YA Dystopian
Release date: TBD
Twenty years ago the Commander came into power and murdered all who
opposed him. In his warped mind, the seven deadly sins were the downfall of
society. He created the Hole where sinners are branded according to their sins
and might survive a few years. At best.
Now LUST wraps around my neck like blue fingers strangling me. I’ve been
accused of a crime I didn’t commit and now the Hole is my new home.
Darkness. Death. Violence. Pain.
Now every day is a fight for survival. But I won’t die. I won’t let them win.
The Hole can’t keep me. The Hole can’t break me.
I am more than my brand. I’m a fighter.
My name is Lexi Hamilton, and this is my story.
Excerpt:
Chapter One
I’m buried six feet under, and no one
hears my screams.
The rope chafes as I loop it around my
neck. I pull down on it, making sure the knot is secure. It seems sturdy
enough.
My legs shake. My heart beats heavy in my
throat. Sweat pours down my back.
Death and I glare at each other through my
tears.
I take one last look at the crystal
chandelier, the foyer outlined with mirrors, and the flawless decorations. No
photographs adorn the walls. No happy memories here.
I’m ready to go. On the count of three.
I inhale, preparing myself for the
finality of it all. Dropping my hands, a glimmer catches my eye. It’s my ring,
the last precious gift my father gave me. I twist it around to read the
inscription. Picturing his face forces me to reconsider my choice. He’d be
heartbroken if he could see me now.
A door slams in the hallway, almost
causing me to lose my balance. My thoughts already muddled, I stand, waiting
with the rope around my neck. Voices I don’t recognize creep through the walls.
Curiosity overshadows my current thoughts.
It’s late at night, and this is a secure building in High Society. No one
disturbs the peace here—ever. I tug on the noose and pull it back over my head.
Peering through the eyehole in our
doorway, I see a large group of armed guards banging on my neighbors’ door. A
heated conversation ensues, and my neighbors point toward my family’s home.
It hits me. I’ve been accused and they’re
here to arrest me.
My father would want me to run, and in
that split second, I decide to listen to his voice within me. Flinging myself
forward in fear, I scramble up the marble staircase and into my brother’s old
bedroom. The door is partially covered, but it exists. Pushing his dresser
aside, my fingers claw at the opening. Breathing hard, I lodge myself against
it. Nothing. I step back and kick it with all my strength. The wood splinters
open, and my foot gets caught. I wrench it backward, scraping my calf, but
adrenaline pushes me forward. The voices at the front door shout my name.
On
hands and knees, I squeeze through the jagged opening. My brother left through
this passage, and now it’s my escape too. Cobwebs entangle my face, hands, and
hair. At the end, I feel for the knob, twisting it clockwise. It swings open,
creaking from disuse. I sprint into the hallway and smash through the large
fire escape doors at the end. A burst of cool air strikes me in the face as I
jump down the ladder.
Reaching the fifth floor, I knock on a
friend’s window. The lights flicker on, and I see the curtains move, but no one
answers. I bang on the window harder.
“Let me in! Please!” I say, but the lights
darken. They know I’ve been accused and refuse to help me. Fear and adrenaline
rush through my veins as I keep running, knocking on more windows along the
way. No one has mercy. They all know what happens to sinners.
Another flight of stairs passes in a blur
when I hear the guards’ heavy footfalls from above. I can’t hide, but I don’t
want to go without trying.
Help me, Daddy. I need your strength now.
My previous desolation evolves into a will
to survive. I
have to keep running, but I tremble and gasp for air. I steel my nerves and
force my body to keep moving. In a matter of minutes, my legs cramp and my
chest burns. I plunge to the ground, scraping my knee and elbow. A moan escapes
from my chest.
Gotta
keep going.
“Stop!”
Their voices bounce off the buildings. “Lexi Hamilton, surrender yourself,”
they command. They’re gaining on me.
I
resist the urge to glance back, running into what I assume is an alley. I’m far
from our high-rise in High Society as I plunge into a poorer section of the
city where the streets all look the same and the darkness prevents me from
recognizing anything. I’m lost.
My first instinct is to leap into a
dumpster, but I retain enough sense to stay still. I crouch and peek around it,
watching them dash by. The abhorrent smell soon leaves me vomiting until
nothing remains in my stomach. Desperation overtakes me, as I know my retching
was anything but silent. My last few seconds tick away before they find me.
Everyone knows about their special means of tracking sinners.
I push
myself to my feet and look left, right, and left again. Their batons click
against their black, leather belts, and their boots stomp the cement on both
sides of me. I shrink into myself. Their heavy steps mock my fear, growing
closer and closer until I know I’m trapped.
Never
did I imagine they’d come for me. Never did I imagine all those nights I heard
them dragging someone else away that I’d join them.
“You’re
a sinner,” they say. “Time to leave our society.”
I
stand defiant. I refuse to bend or break before them even as I shiver with
fear.
“There’s
no reason to make this difficult. The more you cooperate, the smoother this
will be for everyone,” a guard says.
I
cringe into the blackness along the wall. I’m innocent, but they won’t believe
me or care.
The
next instant, my face slams into the pavement as one guard plants a knee in my
back and another handcuffs me. A warm liquid trails into my mouth. Blood. Their
fingers grip my arms like steel traps as they peel me off the cement. The tops
of my shoes scrape along the ground as I’m dragged behind them until they
discard me into the back of a black vehicle. The doors slam in unison with one
guard stationed on each side of me, my shoulders digging into their arms. The
handcuffs dig into my wrists, so I clasp them together hard behind me and press
my back into the seat, unwilling to admit how much it hurts. My dignity is all
I have left.
Swallowing
hard, I stare ahead to avoid their eyes.
Did
they need so many guards to capture me?
I’m not carrying any weapons, nor do I own
any. I don’t even know self-defense. High Society frowns on activities like
that.
The
driver jerks the vehicle around and I try to keep my bearings, but it’s dark
and the scenery changes too fast. Hours pass and the air grows warmer, more
humid, the farther we drive. The landscape mutates from city to rolling hills.
They don’t bother blindfolding me because they escort all the sinners to the
same place—the Hole. Twenty-foot cement walls encase the chaos within. There’s
no way out and no way in unless they transport you. They say the Hole is a
prison with no rules. We learned about it last year in twelfth grade.
To the outside, I’m filth now. I’ll never
be allowed to return to the life I knew. No one ever does.
“All
sinners go through a transformation,” one of the guards says to me. His smirk
infuriates me. “I’m sure you’ve heard all kinds of stories.” I don’t respond. I
don’t want to think about the things I’ve been told.
“You
won’t last too long, though. Young girls like you get eaten alive.” He pulls a
strand of my hair up to his face.
Get your hands off me, you pig. I want
to lash out, but resist. The punishment for disobeying authority is severe, and
I’m not positioned to defy him.
They’re the Guards of the Commander.
They’re chosen from a young age and trained in combat. They keep the order of
society by using violent methods of intimidation. No one befriends a guard.
Relationships with them are forbidden inside the Hole.
Few
have seen the commander. His identity stays under lock and key. His own
paranoia and desire to stay pure drove him to live this way. He controls our
depraved society and believes sinners make the human race unforgivable. His
power is a crushing fist, rendering all beneath him helpless. So much so, even
family members turn on each other when an accusation surfaces. Just an
accusation. No trial, no evidence, nothing but an accusation.
I lose
myself in thoughts of my father.
“Never
show fear, Lexi,” my father said to me before he was taken. “They’ll use it
against you.” His compassionate eyes filled with warning as he commanded me to
be strong. That was many years ago, but I remember it clearly. My father. My
rock. The one person in my life who provided unconditional love.
The
vehicle stops, and I’m jerked back to reality. “Get out,” the guard orders
while pulling me to my feet. The doors slide open and the two guards lift me up
and out into the night. A windowless cement building looms in front of us, looking
barren in the darkness.
The
coolness of the air sends a shiver up my spine. This is really happening. I’ve
been labeled a sinner. My lip starts to quiver, but I bite it before anyone
sees. They shove me in line and I realize I’m not alone. Women and men stand
with faces frozen white in fear. A guard grabs my finger, pricks it, and dabs
my blood on a tiny microchip.
I follow the man in front of me into the next
room where we’re lined up facing the wall. Glancing right, I see one of the men
crying.
“Spread
your legs,” one of the guards says.
They
remove my outer layers and their hands roam up and down my body.
What
do they think I could possibly be hiding? I press my head into the wall, trying to
block out what they’re doing to me.
“MOVE!”
a guard commands. So I shuffle across the room, trying to cover up.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five
of us sit in the holding room. One by one, they pull people into the next room,
forcing the rest of us to wonder what torture we’ll endure. An agonizing amount
of time passes. I lean my head back and try to imagine a place far away. The
door opens.
“Lexi
Hamilton.”
A
guard escorts me out of the room, and I don’t have time to look back. As soon
as the door closes, they pick me up and place me on a table. It’s cold and my
skin sticks to it slightly, like wet fingers on an ice cube. Then, they exit in
procession, and I lie on the table with a doctor standing over me. His hands
are busy as he speaks.
“Don’t
move. This will only take a few minutes. It’s time for you to be branded.”
A wet
cloth that smells like rubbing alcohol is used to clean my skin. Then he places
a metal collar around my neck.
Click.
Click. Click.
The
collar locks into place, and I struggle to breathe. The doctor loosens it some
as I focus on the painted black words above me.
The Seven Deadly Sins:
Lust - Blue
Gluttony - Orange
Greed - Yellow
Sloth - Light Blue
Wrath - Red
Envy - Green
Pride - Purple
“Memorize it. Might keep you alive longer if
you know who to stay away from.” He opens my mouth, placing a bit inside. “Bite
this.”
Within
seconds, the collar heats from hot to scorching. The smell of flesh sizzling
makes my head spin. I bite down so hard a tooth cracks.
“GRRRRRRRRR,”
escapes from deep within my chest. Just when I’m about to pass out, the
temperature drops, and the doctor loosens the collar.
He
removes it and sits me up. Excruciating pain rips through me and I’m on the
verge of a mental and physical breakdown. Focus. Don’t pass out.
Stainless
steel counters and boring white walls press in on me. A guard laughs at me from
an observation room above and yells, “Blue. It’s a great color for a pretty
young thing like yourself.” His eyes dance with suggestion. The others meander
around like it’s business as usual.
I finally
find my voice and turn to the doctor.
“Are
you going to give me clothes?” A burning pain spreads like fire from my neck to
my jaw, making me wince.
He
points to a set of folded grey scrubs on a chair. I cover myself as much
as I can and scurry sideways. Grabbing my new clothes, I pull the shirt over my
head and try to avoid the raw meat around my throat. I quickly knot the cord of
my pants around my waist and slide my feet into the hospital-issue slippers as
the doctor observes. He hands me a bag labeled with my name.
“Nothing
is allowed through the door but what we’ve given you,” he says.
I hide
my right hand behind me, hoping no one notices. A guard scans my body and opens
his hand.
“Give
it to me,” he says. “Don’t make me rip off your finger.” He crouches down and I
turn to stone. I don’t know what to do, so I beg.
“My father gave this to me. Please, let me
keep it.” I smash my eyes shut and think of the moment my father handed the
golden ring to me.
“It was my mother’s ring,” he’d said.
“She’s the strongest woman I ever knew.” With tears in his eyes, he reached for
my hand. “Lexi, you’re exactly like her. She’d want you to wear this. No matter
how this world changes, you can survive.” I turned the gold band over in my
palm and read the engraving.
You can overcome
anything… short of death.
“You’re going to take the one thing that
matters the most to me?” I say, glaring into the guard’s emotionless eyes.
“Isn’t it enough taking my life, dignity, and respect?”
A hard
blow falls upon my back. As I fall, my hands shoot out to stop me from smashing
into the wall in front of me. The guard bends down and grabs my chin with his
meaty fist.
“Look
at me,” he commands. I look up and he smiles with arrogance.
“What
the hell?” He staggers a step backward. “What’s wrong with you? What’s wrong
with your eyes?”
“Nothing,”
I respond, confused.
“What
color are they?”
“Turquoise.”
I glower at him.
“Interesting,”
he says, regaining his composure. “Now those’ll get you in trouble.”
Reality
slaps me across the face. I have my father’s eyes. They can't take them from
me. I twist the ring off my finger and drop it in his hand.
“Take
the damn ring,” I say. I walk to the door. He swipes a card and the massive
door slides open to the outside.
“You
have to wear your hair back at all times, so everyone knows what you are.” He
hands me a tie, so I pull my frizzy hair away from my face and secure it into a
ponytail. My neck burns and itches as my hand traces the scabs that have
already begun to form. Squinting ahead into the darkness, I almost run into a
guard standing on the sidewalk.
“Watch where you’re going,” he says, shoving
me backward. His stiff figure stands tall and I cringe at the sharpness of his
voice.
“Cole,
this is your new assignment, Lexi Hamilton. See to it she feels welcome in her
new home.” The guard departs with a salute.
“Let’s
move,” Cole says.
I take two steps and collapse, my knees
giving out. The unforgiving pavement reopens the scrapes from earlier and I
struggle to stand. A powerful arm snatches me up, and I see his face for the
first time.
Author Bio: Abi Ketner is a registered nurse with a passion for novels, the
beaches of St. John, and her Philadelphia Phillies. A talented singer, Abi
loves to go running and spend lots of time with her family. She currently
resides in Lancaster, Pennsylvania with her husband, triplet daughters and two
very spoiled dogs.
Melissa Kalicicki received her bachelor’s degree from Millersville University
in 2003. She married, had two boys and currently lives in Lancaster,
Pennsylvania. Aside from reading and writing, her interests include running and
mixed martial arts. She also remains an avid Cleveland sports fan.
Abi and Missy met in the summer of 1999 at college orientation and have been
best friends ever since. After college, they added jobs, husbands and kids to
their lives, but they still found time for their friendship. Instead of hanging
out on weekends, they went to dinner once a month and reviewed books. What
started out as an enjoyable hobby has now become an incredible adventure.
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