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“Let go of me.” I say, swatting at him. When he releases me I rub my hand, trying to ease the ache.
“What happened to your hand?”
“I got in a fight.” I grumble.
He raises an eyebrow in surprise. “Did you win?”
I glare at him. “Are you serious? Of course I won.”
“What happened?”
“A girl jumped me while I was sleeping. I punched her in the face. Then in the ear. Finally she went away.”
“Why?”
“Because I punched her.” I enunciate slowly.
“Why did she jump you?” he growls.
“No idea.” I say looking back at the doorway. Caroline is gone. She’s too short and the hair color is all wrong anyway. “But if it happens again, I’m finishing what she started.”
***
Four days after the attack I still haven’t found the girl who did it. I’m wondering if she’s hiding and her words about wanting me to find her were all talk. I cross paths with Nats and ask her to keep a look out on her shift but so far no luck there either. I’m begi
I take Nats and Vin’s advice. I start to make friends with the people in the kitchen. There are six of us in there during our shift, four women and two men. I find it surprisingly easy to talk to them, almost like they were waiting for me to give them the chance. And what do they want to hear about most from the girl from the outside?
The gangs.
“Is it true they eat people?” Steven, a portly forty-ish guy asks me.
He’s one of the very few people I’ve seen in the last decade with any kind of weight problem. I have a feeling it’s got a lot to do with the “tasting” that he does in here. He’s the head chef and rightly so. The man is a magician with water, carrots and thyme. I’m convinced he could make manure edible.
“Some of them do.” I say cautiously, cutting up apples. Endless amounts of apples for ca
“Have you ever seen them?” Crystal asks. She’s about Steven’s age but whisper thin with hair almost as red as mine.
“Yeah, from afar. They look totally normal. Just like you and me.” I tell her, heading off the question I see coming.
People think that just because you eat someone you look like a freak. Not so. Serial killers were charming, upstanding members of society back when there was one and the ca
“Do they really keep Risen as pets?”
“Not that I’ve ever seen, but I’ve heard about zombie fights.”
“What, like boxing a zombie?” Steven asks, wrinkling his nose in disgust.
“No, like cock fights.”
“Oh. How do you get them to fight each other?”
I don’t answer. I don’t want to, not around all this food. How they do it… it’s disturbing. It involves masks. What the masks are made of is the key here. That is if it’s true, which it might not be. I actually really hope it’s not.
Amber, a brunette with bright eyes and a face that reminds me of Brea
“Is it true most guys in gangs are gay?”
I laugh so hard I almost cut my finger instead of the apple. Tears spring in my eyes. “Please ask Vin that. Please!”
Amber laughs as well, but blushes. She’ll never ask him but I don’t care. That moment in the kitchen is the best and brightest I’ve had in weeks. I feel like I’m doing Nats and Vin proud making friends. But for some reason Melissa pulls me out of the kitchen a few days later and gives me some terrible news.
It’s time for me to try my hand at sewing.
I wish they’d let me save us all the trouble and listen to me when I say that this is not my place. But Melissa isn’t hearing any of it.
“You’ll do great!” she beams, leading me through the building to where they store the machines and fabrics. “Everyone has hidden talents. You have so much potential but you’ve been robbed of the chance to experience it. We’re giving that back to you. It’s so exciting!”
I am not excited.
She continues to lead me toward the sewing room, which I think is odd. I know where it is because I saw it on the tour. I tell her as much but, again, she isn’t hearing it.
“I want to make sure you meet everyone and get settled in.” she insists.
She wants to make sure I show up is what it is and fair enough because, left unattended, I wouldn’t set foot in that room. As it turns out I’m glad I do. The second we walk in and all heads lift from their work to see who has arrived, I come face to face with my attacker.
The room is laid out long and narrow. A large loom that I imagine was part of an exhibit sits at the far end along with two ancient looking sewing machines, the kind from the old days that you pedaled with your feet instead of ru
“Everyone, we have a newbie here.” Melissa sings, pulling me forward to put me on display. “This is Joss. She’s been through a lot of the outdoor jobs recently, staying out in the fresh air. She’s needed to take her time adjusting to the good life.”
She smiles at me as the room breaks into small chuckles.
I smile faintly, trying to look sheepish. “I’m blown away by having a hairbrush again. Everything else is a little overwhelming.”
More soft chuckles around the room. I can feel all eyes on me as they weigh me down with their pity. Melissa even whispers an “Oooh” and rubs her hand on my back. I resist the urge to shake free.
“Well, that nightmare is over. You’re safe and sound with us now, sweetie. Girls, let’s make her feel at home, alright? Who would like to show her the ropes?”
All hands in the room rise eagerly. All but one. I look at my attacker and watch as she tentatively raises her hand, obviously not sure about being in close quarters with me. But if she doesn’t raise her hand like everyone else it will look suspicious and the sheep mentality of this joint rolls over me hard in a hot, smothering wave.
I have got to get out of here.
“Lovely, thank you!” Melissa cries, happy to see everyone so eager to take me on. She gestures to the group and smiles at me. “Take your pick.”
I pick the hesitant girl with the fading yellow bruise around her eye.
She’s about twenty five or so, petite and kind of mousy. I’m pretty surprised she felt confident enough to take me on. My left shoe weighs more than this girl.
She watches me closely as I walk toward her and sit down slowly at her end of the table. I’m sitting directly beside her specifically to make her nervous. I’m in her peripheral but there’s nothing separating us, there are sharp scissors in her basket only a foot away from me and I’m a big angry unknown for her.
I smile warmly, extending my hand to her. “I’m Joss. What’s your name?”
“Lexy.” she murmurs.
“Not go
“Nice right hook.” she replies, turning to look at me.
I smile again. “I have a lot of practice.”
“That answers my question then.”
“What question? Whether or not I can kick your ass?”
She shakes her head, looking away. “I wasn’t looking for a fight.”
“You grabbed my face in the dark while I slept. If not a fight, then what were you looking for?”
Lexy glances down the table nervously. I look as well and catch all eyes on us. They quickly go back to their work.
“I was looking for you.” Lexy whispers.
I frown. “Why?”
“There are rumors that one of you in the group that just arrived was living alone on the outside.” She leans in closer to me. I think it’s a brave move because I don’t like it. At this point, even I don’t know how I’m going to respond to her. “A lot of people think it was that girl Nats but I’ve always thought it was you.”