by Abi Ketner and Missy Kalicicki
Release Date: 06/28/13
252 pages
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.
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.
Author Links:
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