Locked Together (In Chains) Page 2

  The man types information into his computer and then gets some supplies from his medical cupboard. He fills a syringe with liquid. I back away as he approaches but he grabs me and jabs the syringe into my arm. I rub the sore spot and scowl at him. “What did you inject me with?” I don’t even know if this guy is a proper doctor.

  “Open your mouth,” he says. He’s holding a cotton bud, I guess he can’t do much damage with that, so I open my mouth and he swabs the cotton bud along the inside of my cheek and places it into a plastic container. “Sit down,” he says as he points to a chair beside his desk. He wraps a tourniquet around my arm and jabs me again with a needle, I watch as my blood fills the syringe.

  “When can I expect the results,” I smirk at him.

  He glares at me and points to a set of scales against the far wall. “Step on those.” I stand on the scales and watch the dial. Hmm, I’ve lost weight. I glance down at my stomach, it does look flatter. “Get over here,” the doctor says. His rudeness is beginning to get on my nerves. He points to the chair and I sit back down.

  He opens a drawer, takes out a nit comb and begins dragging it through my hair; it feels like he’s pulling my hair out at the roots. “Ouch.” I put my hand up to my head. “Stop it. I don’t have nits.”

  He glares at me. “It’s either this, or I shave off your hair.”

  I stare at him, open mouthed. His eyes are cold and hard. I put my hands in my lap and watch as strands of my hair fall to the floor as he continues to drag the comb through my long hair. I’m relieved when he finally finishes. I rub my hand over my sore scalp.

  “Pee in this,” he says. He hands me a small plastic cup. I look around for a toilet but the only door is the one we came in through. I glance at the cup, then at the doctor. “I said pee in it,” he repeats.

  “Where’s the toilet?” I ask him.

  “There isn’t one. Stop wasting my time.”

  I place the cup on his desk. “I’m not going to be able to wee in front of you.”

  He picks up the telephone and presses a button. “I’ve finished with the slave,” he says. A few minutes later the door opens and the guard enters. “She refused a urine test,” he says to her.

  “She’ll be punished,” she replies as she grips my arm and leads me out of the room.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Savannah

  My stomach is rumbling. I wasn’t allowed to eat lunch, as punishment for refusing a urine test. Kayden wasn’t at lunch either, but he should be at dinner. I’m worried about him. Amy is boiling potatoes and I’m frying a small amount of some fatty, unidentifiable meat. I must be hungry, because I’d actually consider eating this.

  We feed the slaves and as they line up along the yellow line to be taken to the dorm, we sit down to eat ours. I gag at the feel of the meat in my mouth, it’s all gristle. After a few minutes of chewing and trying to force it down my throat, I give up and spit it out.

  The guard opens the door and Kayden and the other level three slaves enter. As soon as he gets through the door I run at him and fling my arms around his waist, almost knocking him off his feet. I press my head against his chest and squeeze him tight. He’s hot and sticky and I can feel his heart thumping. He wraps his arms around me and kisses me on the top of my head. “I’ve missed you Savannah, I’ve been worried about you. Are you okay?”

  I want to tell him how awful it is but I fear it may be even worse for him and I don’t want him to worry about me. “It’s been okay, I didn’t expect it to be great. They break a lot of rules though, Kayden. I want to make a complaint; do you know how I should do that?”

  He sighs. “Let it go baby, they won’t listen to you, it’s not gonna make any difference. Just do what they tell you till you can get the hell out of here. Please.” He cups my face in his hands and gazes down at me.

  “I heard it’s nasty in level three.” I blink up at him, trying to hold back my tears.

  He smiles and pushes the corners of my mouth up with his thumbs. “Smile for me. I don’t see many happy faces in here.” I plaster a fake smile across my face but it feels more like a grimace. Kayden laughs softly. “Ten out of ten for effort baby.” He’s such a goof but he always manages to put a genuine smile on my face. My smile slips as I spot a guard approaching us.

  “Dinner’s over. You’ve got thirty seconds to line up at the door.”

  I whip my head around to glare at her. “He hasn’t eaten-”

  Kayden spins me back around to face him, clasps my cheeks in his palms and presses his lips against mine. As his tongue probes my mouth I stroke my hands across his back. I’ve missed his kisses. He slowly pulls away and places his lips to my ear, his breath tickles me. “I love you Savannah. Keep your beautiful mouth shut, please,” he whispers.

  My eyes are glued to him as he waits on the yellow line. As the guard unlocks the door, Kayden turns around and blows me a kiss. “See you tomorrow, beautiful.”

  I’ll never get used to the sound of the door caging me in at night. I pace the floor. I’m upset that Kayden didn’t get time to eat and I want to go home. If I can’t go home I want to spend the night in Kayden’s arms, I want to feel safe again. I Take a deep breath and stare at the list of rules and regulations. It says here that fifty percent of the produce grown is supposed to be used to feed the slaves. From what I saw this morning, they seem to be selling ninety percent of it. It’s wrong; they shouldn’t be allowed to get away with this. “Hey,” I shout out loud enough so everyone in the room can hear, “do they have ever have fire drills?”

  A guy in the bunk nearest to me pops his head up. “What’s a fire drill?”

  “It’s when they set off an alarm on purpose, they pretend there’s a fire and you guys practice getting out safely. Have they ever done that?” He shakes his head. “Well, according to their rules, they’re meant to have a drill every month.” A sea of heads look in my direction, all have blank expressions on their faces. “This matters because if there was a fire, no one here knows what to do, we’d probably all die.” Shivering, I hug myself and pace the floor again. “We should be getting half of what’s grown in the field. We’re meant to get a shower and brush our teeth at the end of every day.”

  “You can’t make them do what they don’t wanna.” I look towards the owner of the voice, a skinny guy who doesn’t look any older than seventeen.

  “How do I make a complaint? Does anyone know?” They’re ignoring me; most of them are lying back down to go to sleep. “It’s worth trying; we can’t be any worse off than we are now. If they ignore my complaint, well, we outnumber them. We could refuse to work until they listen.”

  “Great idea.” It’s another male voice but it’s coming from the back of the room and I can’t see him. “You’re gonna get us all punished. Why don’t you shut up and let the rest of us get some sleep.”

  “How about you shut up Joe,” says a girl of about eighteen, she’s tall and she looks muscular, I wouldn’t want to mess with her. “Let’s hear what she has to say.”

  I give her a weak smile. “Thank you. I was just thinking,” I say quietly, “that if they don’t listen we can refuse to work and that might make them listen. Maybe I can get in touch with my brother and he can contact the media, we may be able to get some public support.”

  The girl speaks up again, “I dunno what media or public is, but it sounds good to me.” She smiles at me. “My name’s Kate.”

  “It’s a stupid idea.” This time it’s a girl who disagrees with me. “They’ll punish us all, we’ll all be worse off.”

  “They can’t punish us all,” Kate says. “Count me in. C’mon, who else is gonna join us?”

  My stomach is fluttering, I think I may have started a revolution; Kayden’s going to kill me. A few slaves raise their hands but most of them mutter at us to be quiet so they can get some sleep. Maybe not a revolution then, if only a few of us do it, it’ll be easy for them to punish us. It’s probably for the best but I will make a complaint. I crawl onto
my bunk. I’m feeling tired but my mind is running through scenarios of what I’m going to say when I complain.

  I wake to the piercing sound of the alarm and line up on the yellow line with the others. The door opens and the female guard that took us to breakfast yesterday is standing outside the door. The slaves troop out; I stop when I reach her. “Permission to speak please ma’am.”

  “Make it quick,” she snaps.

  I swallow. “I’d like to see whoever is in charge please ma’am.”

  She scowls at me. “No one’s interested in what you’d like.”

  “I’ve read those,” I point to the list of rules on the wall, “we’re not getting the things we should be. I just want to speak to someone about it.”

  She glares at me. “Well now you have. Move.”

  She shoves in the back but I stand my ground. My palms are sweating and my heart is thumping but I’m also angry, how dare she dismiss me like that. “These people are being taken advantage of because they can’t read. I’ll contact my brother and he’ll get the media involved.” I line up with the slaves, I don’t want them to miss breakfast because of me but I haven’t finished saying my piece. “If this ends up going to the media, I’ll make sure whoever runs this place knows it was your fault. You’ll end up losing your job.”

  She presses her thumb against the pad, then she turns and scowls at me. As I walk past her, I can feel her glare burning a hole in the back of my head.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Savannah

  The rest of the week drags by, every day the same old thing. I get a few precious moments with Kayden at dinner, other than that, I never see him. I wonder if I’m going to lose the ability to think because there’s nothing here to occupy my mind.

  I’m working in the field, picking tomatoes when I sense someone behind me. I look up, shielding my eyes from the sun, I wish I had my sunglasses. Standing there is a tall, thin male guard that I’ve never seen before. He speaks with a high pitched voice and tells me the manager wants to see me. I’ll be glad to get out of the sun; I can feel my arms and face are sunburned.

  I follow him to the reception, where I was booked in. My palms are damp. I don’t know what the manager is like and I’m trying to think of what to say. We stop at a wooden door and the guard knocks on it, I hear a male voice telling us to enter.

  The first thing I notice is the large, expensive looking wooden desk, and sitting behind it is a grey haired man wearing silver rimmed glasses. He stares at me with his cold, grey eyes. “I’ve got slave F51199GH to see you sir,” the guard says as he pushes me towards the desk. The manager is a small built man but he has an imposing manner. His eyes haven’t left mine and he’s slowly tapping his pen against the desk. I clasp my hands in front of me and twiddle my fingers. There are framed certificates and photos hung on the cream coloured walls. One is a casual family portrait of him, a woman and two children; it looks like it was taken recently. I glance behind me; the guard is standing inside the room, beside the door, his hands behind his back. There’s an empty seat in front of the desk but I haven’t been told I can sit, so I remain standing. I stare at his desk, studying the tiny scratches in the woodwork.

  I stiffen as he clears his throat. “I understand you have a complaint.” He leans back in his leather chair and steeples his fingers together.

  My mouth has gone dry, I swallow. “Yes sir.” I breathe and try to relax my muscles. He’s just a man, just a man, I tell myself as I force my eyes to meet his. “Some safety rules are being broken…and other rules.” I lower my gaze back to his desk.

  “Well, if what you say is true, this is a very serious matter.” He leans forward and rests his forearms on his desk. “Please, take a seat and tell me about it.” He gestures to the empty seat in front of his desk. I sit, take a deep breath and tell him about the fire drills, the food and the lack of showers. He listens without interrupting. When I’ve finished talking he leans back in his chair. “What is your name?” he asks.

  “Err…Savannah, sir.”

  “Well, Savannah,” he smiles at me, “these are very serious accusations, and I can promise you they will receive my full attention.”

  This is better than I could have hoped for; I was expecting him to dismiss all my concerns. I doubt he’ll act on all of them, but if we at least get fire drills it will be some small victory. I don’t want to push my luck, but there is one other thing I need to ask him. “Sir, is it possible for me to see my brother, a visit maybe? Or perhaps I could write to him, or call him.”

  He smiles at me again and clears his throat before speaking. “The Compound is not designed for visits; the slaves do not have family or friends in the outside world. I appreciate your case is exceptional, I will see what I can do.” He opens his desk drawer and rummages around inside. He hands me a sheet of paper, an envelope and a pen. “You are welcome to write to your brother and I will see to it that it gets mailed.”

  He glances at the guard, who then walks up to me, grasps my arm and escorts me from the room. The guard leads me to a seat in reception. “Sit here and write the letter to your brother,” he says. He begins a conversation with the guard who is working at the reception desk. I have so much I want to write, but only one sheet of paper, so I’d better keep it brief.

  Dear Simon,

  How are you and Christine? I miss you both. Have you set a date for your wedding yet?

  Will you please contact Jenny at the cafe? She probably thinks I quit my job because I didn’t enjoy it. Will you please explain everything to her and let her know that I would love to work for her again when I get out of here, if she still wants me. Please let her know about Kayden too, she may be wondering why he hasn’t shown up, she may even think we’ve run away together. I now wish we had.

  In a way I made a mistake admitting to the crime and coming here but if I hadn’t, Kayden would be dead. I know you didn’t agree with our relationship but I hope you don’t blame him for what happened, it was all my decision and Kayden was horrified when he found out I was here. He loves me, Simon and he’s worried about me I know. I’m sure you are too. Physically I’m okay, they haven’t hurt me, my back aches from bending over in the field and my hands are sore because they don’t provide any gardening gloves, but other than that I’m fine.

  I think letters will be the only way I can contact you and I don’t know how often they will let me write. The manager will mail this letter for me, he may be willing to mail one a week but I can’t be sure of that. If you don’t hear from me for a while, try not to worry.

  I want to tell him how crazy it is here but I stop myself, the manager could steam open my letter and read it. I don’t think he’d take kindly to me pointing out the faults in the system to my brother. I glance around; the guard is still deep in conversation. I frown when I see that the list of rules are also posted on the wall here in reception. I grip the pen. Why do they even bother posting these rules everywhere, when all they do is ignore them? I close my eyes, and breathe. When I feel calmer, I open my eyes and continue writing.

  I’ve got so much to tell you. Perhaps you could contact someone here and see if they will let you visit? I love you. Take care of yourself.

  I lick the envelope to seal it. Ugh, I hate the taste of envelope adhesive. I hand the guard my letter.

  Amy and I make dinner, watery potato soup and stale bread. We feed the slaves and I wait impatiently for Kayden to come through the door. As soon as I see him, I run at him and throw my arms around his waist. He feels bony, he’s lost weight. His eyes sparkle as he looks down at me. I rest my head against his chest as he runs his fingers through my hair. “I’ve missed you,” he whispers in my ear.

  “I hate being apart from you,” I tell him, “but you need to eat and I don’t want you to run out of time again.”

  We hold hands as we eat our soup. I push my bread towards him; he frowns and pushes it back towards me. “You eat it baby,” he rubs his nose against mine, “I don’t want you to get hungry.”
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br />   I give him my sternest look. “Listen up slave; I’m a human, so you have to do what I say.” Kayden is shaking with laughter. I hold the bread to his lips. “Eat.”

  The alarm sounds for the level threes to line up at the door. Kayden looks back at me as he’s led out and I hold his gaze until the door slams shut. I blink back my tears and help Amy wash up.

  We’re locked in the dorm without a shower once again. Lack of decent food is making me tired and I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the lumpy pillow.

  I’m woken by a piercing noise; I sit up and rub my eyes. Is it the morning alarm already? I don’t feel like I’ve had a full night’s sleep. I glance around, everyone looks bleary eyed and half asleep as they shuffle along to stand by the yellow line. The door opens. “This is a fire drill,” a male guard shouts. He marches us all outside to the courtyard. It’s still dark, the only illumination coming from the perimeter lights. The guard has us all stand in a line. He’s holding some sort of gadget which he uses to scan the bar-codes on our wrist cuffs. “Wait here till you’re told to go back inside,” he says. I watch as he lights up a cigarette, leans against the dormitory wall and starts a conversation with a female guard. At this time of year the temperature drops at night and all I have on are jeans and a t-shirt, I wrap my arms around myself to try and stop shivering, I have goose bumps already. I stifle a yawn. The guard walks the length of the line, glaring at us. “Get used to this, someone complained that we weren’t having fire drills.” He stops and stands directly in front of me. He takes a drag of his cigarette and blows the smoke in my face. How sad is it that I want to inhale? I don’t long for a smoke all day like I did when I first got here but the cravings haven’t completely left me yet.