Cridex

Chapter Nineteen

A clanging of a tin cup across the bars echoed in the small, cement cell, followed by the rising sounds of the other captives rousing from their sedative induced sleep. I clung to the drowsiness for as long as I could, grinding my teeth as the sound rose, then ebbed away in waves.

"Get off 'he floor, ya piece o' scrap metal." a low voice groveled out. "Get up, or I'll make ya get up."

Slowly, I rolled onto my stomach, placing my palms underneath me on the cool, craggy surface, and squinted through my right eye, carefully adjusting my vision to the floodlights illuminating the corridor.

"Get up, I say." He growled once more, and I glanced into his eyes. Both were brown- plain, human brown. My envy had never risen so quickly in such a short acquaintance, and my stomach burned with it, pushing my to rise to my feet- albeit a bit unsteadily.

"I'm up," I bit out, leaning against the bars for support and staring deep into his eyes- his dirt, brown eyes.

He took a step forward, unaccustomed to his captive charges making eye contact, but quickly recovered with a haughty sniff as he made his way down the line of cells, continuing to clang his tin cup along the bars.

"You sure showed him," A soft baritone whispered from next to me. "You almost made him stutter."

Without turning, I quirked up one side of my mouth in a wry smile. "Almost."

Jonas stretched out his arms, bending forward with his fingers linked behind his back, the muscles becoming even more prominent. He jerked his chin across the way, eyes wandering about the stocks. "Cam and Imogen are further up than we are. They'll be led out first."

"Led out first?" I repeated heavily, tucking my chin closer to my body and crossing my arms, "Led to slaughter?"

"Almost," he repeated my words from earlier grimly, "Almost worse, too. They are being led to the auction. Can't you hear them?"

I caught my breath sharply as I turned to face the upper half of the corridor, the one we never reached before we were caught. In lines , dirty, rag- wearing cyborgs were being led out by chains around their necks, their blue eyes wavering in the distance. "The auction?" I asked dumbly. "To be sold?"

"No," Jonas rolled his eyes and cracked his knuckles, but I saw the worry creasing his brow. "o be branded- then sold."

I closed my eyes to shut out the image brought forth, but that only heightened the sounds around my- the sobs, the screams, the pitiful cries. I was overwhelmed, and swayed on my feet, until I felt a hand reaching for my shoulder-Jonas's hand.

"It will be fine- believe it or not, this was the original plan."

"To be sold," I grit out bitterly, my eyes suspiciously stinging, "This is sick. What will happen to Imogen when they find her brand? Her master's mark?"

Jonas fell silent and his grip on my shoulder became painful until he dropped it entirely. "She was right you know," he chuckled dryly, "Being here- witnessing this-" He spread his arms out wide, "It would turn even the most loyal to the city council into an insurgent."

The man with the brown eyes and the tin cup was making his way leisurely back up our aisle, whistling as he walked, and I turned to face him. His expression was a mixture of superiority and anticipation. My stomach burned further, a roaring flame growing now.

"Jonas," I bit out, "What are they going to do to her?"

"Nothing good," he shrugged, "But she is tough- Imogen was trained for this, and it is not her first time around the auction. She'll get through."