Free New World Ashes by Jennifer Wilson Page B

first against the wall. They fumbled for a minute with the handcuffs, my cast proving to be quite the hindrance. Eventually, they compromised by handcuffing my hands in front of me. One side was so tight it pinched and the other just barely encircled the cast. Before the bag was slipped over my head, I noticed that the size of my personal guard had grown. As I stepped through the door I had counted at least twenty soldiers before being plunged into blackness.
    The boots seemed too loud as we moved down the hall, causing my head to pulse. I wanted to ask questions about this so-called appointment, to say something rude and demeaning, but it took all of my focus just to walk. In truth, I was leaning too much on the arms carrying me despite my best efforts to appear strong, the two soldiers half carrying me cursing whenever I fell into them. The elevator ride seemed excruciatingly long, my eyes staring unfocused at the black canvas breathing against my face. I was trying to count the seconds, but they seemed to be drifting in and out. When the door finally opened, it wasn’t until we stepped outside that I realized we were in a place I had not yet been.
    Internally cursing myself, I forced my slow eyes to blink a few times. Pull it together!
    I closed my eyes, forcing my ears to listen.
    The sounds echoed here, not like in the gym or like The Minister’s refined office. It sounded hollow, with metal reverberations. The ground beneath my feet was coarse, gripping the bottoms of my slippers and grinding beneath the guards’ shoes. I could smell something too, but could not place it… A metallic tang in the air maybe… or more chemical based? Then there was that whirring sound… I knew that sound. I had heard it before. My brain struggled to recall what seemed like a lifetime ago. It was that sound on the streets, the noise those strange vehicles had made.
    I was jerked to a stop just as the bag was yanked from my head. I was staring at a pair of metal doors, their tops towering a good two feet above me. The two guards in the front pulled several levers and the doors swung open to reveal an encased, windowless room made of steel. There were two metal benches on opposite sides with fortified rings affixed strategically to the floor below them. I scanned the room. The step up was nearly a foot off the ground, but stranger yet there were wheels of some sort protruding out from underneath it. The whole thing seemed to be vibrating slightly. It clicked. The smell of chemicals, the humming noise and the vibrations—this was one of the vehicles I had seen that first day.
    My jaw tightened.
    They were moving me.
    Not just from one holding cell to another, but outside of this monstrous building. My mind spun with the thought.
    Outside…
    “Step up,” a soldier ordered in my ear. When I did not comply right away, the two men grasping my arms lifted and thrust me forward in the vehicle. The floor reverberated with a resounding thud as my feet connected with the metal surface. As the guards pushed me forward, the strange vehicle groaned and swayed under our weight. The men shoved me down onto the hard bench. They wasted no time securing me. As one guard alertly pointed his gun at my chest, the other took out an extension of silver chain and locked my handcuffs to one of the rings on the floor. He then attached the larger cuffs to my ankles. Once assured I could not escape, the guards hopped out of the container. It rocked again in their wake, making me feel a little seasick.
    I could feel my heart rate begin to rise, pulsing rapidly in my temples. I was used to living in confined spaces, crawling through metal-encased air ducts, dwelling in windowless rooms, but this was something different. This was a metal box on wheels. A box I had no control over. I pulled at the chains restraining my hands. They barely rose to my bent knees. I pulled harder until my casted arm screamed in protest and the cool metal bit into the skin on my good