Older YA Dystopian
Release date TBD
Description: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.
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.
twitter @abiandmiss.com
website and blog www.abiandmissy.com
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/AbiandMissy
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 ¾ Blue
Gluttony ¾ Orange
Greed ¾ Yellow
Sloth ¾ Light Blue
Wrath ¾ Red
Envy ¾ Green
Pride ¾ 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.
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