sHe: THE RISE OF THE NEW BREEDS [Book 1]

THE TOMBSCRADLE YEARS

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2033

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THE ROARING INFURIATION CRESCENDO came from the citadel — it was audible from almost a mile away in the desert, creating an ambience of emotional chaos. The penitentiary that aboded major Intersexual rival street gangs as its denizens. in later years — it also housed the White orphans from the Exodus Trail Evacuation of the Walter Rosewood administration — when the last male President of the United States' alternative solution during the Medusa Virus attack on his country, was to get as many of the survivors away from the disaster zone, by migrating them to the east coast.

Those orphans had today grownup as teenagers, incarcerated in Tombscradle in the state of Texas since 2027.

A naked, young seventeen years old was in handcuffs, led onto the exercise yard. He was escorted by six female armed prison-guards. They approached the fence of jeering and outraged Latino inmates — he was led past a metal gate into the Hispanic yard. The bald youth's face had both old and new scars and bruises — and his backbore with lots of scar-tissues...

It was mostly inflicted during his childhood from another prison.

Seeing out through the barred windows of the huge prison blocks that were surrounding the exercise yard were hundreds of distressing looking faces — peering out of the windows of their cells. The White and Black races of prisoners were witnessing the upsetting spectacle below of the captive known to everyone as the Preacher, who was led by the guards into the presence of a mob, waiting on the other side of the fence...

One pair of the peering sad eyes from the locked-down cell — was the ones of a dark-haired Intersexual youth. He had a recollection of meeting Doran for the first time — five long years ago.

*

A dim, menthol light bulb above him gleamed dully when his eyes opened — and he gazed around groggily inside the prison infirmary. The shirtless twelve-year-old Intersexual boy turned to his left towards someone snoring — he saw his buddy Joe on a bunk bed beside his.

Reeves was curious about the presence of the other person on the far end bed — whose face was turned away — Reeves saw the bare-bodied, bald boy with scads of scars-tissues concavity on his back. The sight of the scars gob-smacked the rebel from Wesleyan for a moment — with some initial questions in his mind as he panicked...

'What was he punished for? Do they fucking physically abuse anyone in here?

'Where the hell am I?'

Reeves endeavoured to sit upright — and he became aware of his right wrist handcuffed to the bed-side. He started yanking hard — Doran turned his head to the sound of the scraping metal.

"Stop that, you will hurt yourself more."

Reeves noticed his scared face next — also bruised and swollen from beatings.

"Who are you?"

Reeves responded back to the lulling voice. Doran did not answer him, he wiped his tears with his un-handcuffed hand before turning and facing the dark-haired boy. He saw Reeves attempting to sit up, coughing, clutching in discomfort due to mild angina.

"Mmpff, my chest..."

"You are too young to get a heart attack," said the bald-headed boy.