Page 6 of Cry for Help

A few of the girls snickered at his name. Mr Jingle had short-cropped hair and a crooked nose. He also looked like he started fights for a living.

“Demons like to make their pets squirm, so you’re going through the gauntlet. It weeds out the weak ones.” Mr Jingle announced. “First, you’ll need a sigil. Your sigil will then be keyed to your new master once you reach the city.”

“Master?” Inmate Thomas put her hands on her hips. “Who said anything about amaster.”

Mr Jingle ignored her. “You’ll go to auction. If a demon likes you, you’ll become a pet. You’ll receive basic cost of living payments. Your money is in credits. It’s useless outside of the Red City.” Mr Jingle had clearly given the speech so many times that he could do it in his sleep. “Your master will be responsible for your other expenses. If you don’t have a master, you’ll have a job. If you don’t have a job, you don’t have protection. Simple? Line up, and welcome to the Red City. You belong to the demons now.”

Chapter Two

The mark on my forearm burned. Positioned on the inside of my elbow, the sigil was comprised of two circles, with a slash through the center. The demonic language, written. The skin was black but not raised, like a tattoo freshly healed. Vibrant and throbbing.

One by one, we lined up, rubbing our arms. I was the last through the door.

Another wall stood a hundred yards away, with small windows dotted along the top. The ground sat in shadow; mud, water, and barbed wire.

I’d been in prison since I was eighteen. Time passed differently, and I wasn’t even sure what year it was.

One thing I did know was that I was not going to be able to complete the assault course.

I’d been living on prison slop, limited exercise, and anti-psychotic drugs. I couldn’t run ten feet. How could I climb through mud and barbed wire?

The other inmates had the benefit of being slimmer. They wouldn’t have to press too flat to the ground as they crawled.

“I’m not built for this.” One of the other inmates grumbled. I didn’t turn back to see who.

Mr Jingle walked to the first pit, glanced at his watch, and then toward the windows, looking down at us.

“Ten mins.” He announced. “Go!”

I was the last inmate left at the starting line. Every other woman slid into the ditch and began crawling under the wire, kicking up watery mud behind them.

I tried to follow, but the barbed wire knicked my elbow as I fell down the verge, leaving a burning scratch no bigger than my pinkie. The barbed wire must have been made with an iron alloy.

An open cut was just asking for infection in those muddy waters, but I had no choice.

If I failed, I’d be loaded back onto a bus and taken back to Sandy Village.

It was the Red City or nothing.

My nose pressed to the mud as I snuffled forward on my elbows, and I ignored the creeping chill of the water as it soaked through my prison jumpsuit.

The mud stank, but I couldn’t identify the smell.

I kept moving, pulling myself forward on my belly, teeth gritted and determined.

I wasn’t sure how far I’d traveled when a yelp rang out in front. Harried cries of “I’m stuck!” and screams that grew to whimpers and curses as someone tried to free themselves.

I looked up, finding Inmate Thomas, her long black hair tangled in the barbed wire. Her scalp bleeding as she tried to pull free.

“What are you looking at, freak?” She bared her teeth at me.

I shrugged, facing forward as I began to crawl past.

“Wait! Wait! Wait!” She waved her hand manically. “You have to help me!”

I arched a brow.Do I?

Inmate Thomas lurched forward, trying again to free herself and failing. She turned to the other wall, her body vibrating with thinly concealed rage and impatience.

---