Page 18 of Us Dark Few

Does anyone win the race of life,

or do we all get participation trophies?

Khalani roughly wiped a bead of sweat trickling down her face. She peered down at her shaking hands and noticed blood all over them. Her blisters had popped, and the black dirt mingled with blood.

The ugly mixture oozed down her palms, and she stared at the colors, seeing herself in the dirty blend. Pain and anger were her kaleidoscopes.

She lowered her hands to wipe the unseemly hues on her clothing but hesitated, realizing it would get blood on her uniform. And that was a peculiar thought. Who cared what she looked like anymore?

“You alright?” Derek asked, setting the empty wheelbarrow down.

She showed him her hands, and he hissed. “Here.” He ripped off a piece of fabric from his arm and wrapped it over her palms.

She ground her teeth together and shut her eyes as he tightened the fabric, covering up her brokenness. The pressure over the wounds wasexcruciating, but she kept her mouth shut, having dealt with worse.

“Better?”

“Yeah.”

“You two, keep working!” Marcela shrieked at them.

Her triceps burned in agony. It was as if her arms begged to be sliced off, so they could walk away in some sick twisted nightmare. If she could cut herself apart and walk away breathing, she would. Weird thoughts of self-mutilation entered her brain as she went into overdrive mode, loading her wheelbarrow with hefty rocks.

Khalani locked the pain into the far reaches of her mind—a skill she’d mastered long before being sentenced to prison. Two weeks had passed since her first day in Braderhelm.

She hadn’t spoken to Takeshi Steele since their last encounter. Avoiding him like the plague was a difficult task, since he locked her in a cell every night, but it was one she excelled in.

The work in the tunnels never got any easier. Screaming and punishment went hand-in-hand, sometimes for seemingly nothing.

Khalani learned to ignore the hunger pains in her stomach and scoffed down water at any opportunity. She must have already lost ten pounds, as evidenced by her protruding ribs.

The worst part was the migraines. It felt like someone was banging against the walls of her brain with a sledgehammer, trying to conduct a never-ending symphony.

Derek, Serene, and Adan helped keep her sane. She didn’t feel nearly as alone when she was with them. After all, misery did love company.

But even they couldn’t alleviate the endless sadness residing inside her. Going through the motions of her new desolate reality was her daily dose of torment. Wake, pain, eat, pain, sleep, repeat. Over and over. Like a merry-go-round.

They built a merry-go-round once in Apollo. That was the first time she saw a horse. It was a fake horse, of course, but she didn’t care. She rode the merry-go-round after school hundreds of times. It was sixty seconds of happiness.She wanted to make that blissful minute extend forever.

The Apollo Council voted to destroy the merry-go-round after one month of operation. They said it distracted from daily work that needed to be completed for the city. A convenient excuse. They couldn’t let anyone be too happy or have enough down time to get to know their neighbor.

What better way to make someone depend on you than to isolate them?

“Don’t slack on me now,” Derek instructed, noting her slowed movements as she got lost in her thoughts.

“Do you ever miss it?” she asked, shifting the rocks in the wheelbarrow to make more room.

“Miss what?”

“Your life before all this.”

“I miss sleeping in my bed and taking a shit on my own toilet,” Derek said.

Despite the pain, she couldn’t help but grin. That was why she liked Derek. No matter how severe or grim the circumstances were, he had this carefree attitude. Like everything, and nothing mattered.

Derek was silent as they continued to work. She thought he wouldn’t say anything more about it, but he glanced around, ensuring no guards were nearby.

“I don’t have anything to miss,” he whispered. “No family. No friends. My life was my work in Apollo’s R&R Labs.”

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