(Sinners #1)
Abi Ketner and Missy Kalicicki
Release Date: June 28, 2013
Pages: 252
Summary from Goodreads:
Fifty 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.
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CHAPTER ONE OF BRANDED
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, 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 hanging 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 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.”
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.
Swallowing hard, I stare ahead to avoid their eyes. My
dignity is all I have left. 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.
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.
“Get out,” the guard says while pulling me to my feet. The
vehicle stops, and I’m jerked back to reality. 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 with
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 can
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 ⎯ Black
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 up 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 clothes and
pulling the shirt over my head, I 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 and said, “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 in 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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About the Authors
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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