Redemption Lost Read online

  All four shrugged. “Do you guys go back to visit your old friends in the named houses?”

  “Heck no,” Teresa said. “Those girls may be your friends while you’re in the house, but once you leave, you stay away. Jealousy is a powerful motivator.”

  She thought of Cassandra and her gang and nodded. Carrie would have been placed in the prostitute house, but which one was that? She wouldn’t rush it. She had the rest of the day to figure that out. She looked around at all the girls in the courtyard and met eyes with Cassandra. When Christy liberated this place, she just might have to leave her here.

  As they continued to play, Christy took note of the guards’ movements, the procedures for changing guards, and any other security measures she might have missed. She also allowed herself to wonder about Jeremy and why he hadn’t come. Something must have gone seriously wrong to keep him from her. Was he hurt?

  She forcibly moved her thoughts away from that idea. Instead, she tried to ascertain her location. The sea voyage had been short—she’d counted only three days. It was possible that it was four, but not likely. That meant they had to be close to the States. From her surroundings, she also knew they were in a tropical climate somewhere. What islands were only a few days by freighter from Washington, D.C.? There were a ton of islands, the biggest of which were Haiti and the Dominican Republic. She tried to remember docks in the area, but she must never have seen a report on that, because her mind was blank.

  In order for a large ship or even a medium-size ship to dock anywhere, the island had to be bigger than most of the islands out there, except Haiti or the Dominican Republic. She studied the sparse information in her mind’s virtual file cabinet about the islands.

  Another bell chimed, and the girls all filed back into the house.

  That night after dinner, the courtyard was teeming with new people. She kept her eye out for Carrie She could possibly pretend to be a new girl in the prostitute house or something just long enough to find Carrie. Luckily, she knew her fake name from the welcome house. They most likely hadn’t changed it since they spent time brainwashing her to believe that was her name.

  Ignoring the protests of her house, Christy headed across the courtyard to the named houses, after first making sure Carrie was nowhere in the crowds. The houses had names like Roseoak, Sunnyside, and the Willows. While it was good they weren’t labeled for the people who lived inside, it made it hard for her to find the one for call girls. She looked inside the windows. If there was anyone inside, they were in the kitchens eating.

  As she walked down a rocked alleyway between the Primrose and the Willows, she caught sight of Carrie through the kitchen window, sitting at a table with a cup in her hands. The Primrose. She lived in the Primrose. She stared out blankly through the glass. Christy looked quickly around, then raised a hand in greeting. Carrie didn’t notice. Christy waved frantically in front of the glass.

  Finally, Carrie squinted in Christy’s direction, but no recognition pulsed across her face. Just then, a woman entered the room. She was dressed like Matron Mara—probably another matron, then. She was tall and big boned and wore her hair in a severe bun. Christy ducked, waited a moment, then peeked back in. The matron had her back to the window, so she waved again, beckoning Carrie outside. She made no move. Was she drugged? Why was there no recognition on her face?

  Christy bent down again to stay out of the matron’s line of sight. Her black hair tumbled in front of her face. Of course Carrie wouldn’t recognize her. She didn’t look like herself. She couldn’t just take the wig off; it was sewn into her hair. And she’d never seen Christy in the container. It had been pitch black the whole time until they were drugged and moved. In the Welcome house, too, they’d only met in the dark.

  Christy backed slowly up and kept her eyes fixed on the window. Carrie stood at the window now, her eyes slightly glazed. The woman was gone. Right as Christy was about to mouth to her who she was, someone yanked on her arm and held her tight. Carrie’s matron. Christy stared up at her, her steely eyes scrutinizing her face. Christy flinched at the cold stare. The matron yanked Christy’s ankle up and put a little device to it. “Ms. Ryann, what do you think you’re doing harassing Ms. Bridget?” A police baton swung at her side.

  “I think… sorry. I wasn’t trying to cause any harm. I thought I might be able to get her to come out. She doesn’t look happy.”

  “She’s homesick.” She raised a painted on eyebrow.

  “Me, too. We came together, and I was feeling blue too.”

  “I don’t think so. You’re in House Seven. She just got here two days ago.” She scowled down at Christy, whose head only came to the matron’s chest.

  “Me, too,” Christy said, hopeful.

  She looked back at the screen on the scanner. “No. This says you came in weeks ago. You’ve been in trouble since you got here, too. Why they sent to you to House Seven when you’re a troublemaker, I have no idea. It says here that you’re not with child yet.” Christy cringed inwardly at having her fate stated so baldly. “I think a little punishment is in order for your lies. Since it’s your legs that brought you here, I think it’s only fitting that they receive the punishment.”

  Quick as a flash, with a hand that had done this many times, she whipped out the baton. Christy’s hand reached out in a trained reflex, but the stick hit it hard, breaking her pinkie finger. As the stick sailed past her hand, it slammed into the fleshy part of her calf. The blow was so hard, she toppled to her knees.

  Get up. You’re a bigger target lying down.

  She pushed up with her hands and felt another thwack, this time to the side of where the matron had struck before. Christy ignored the pain, holding in a gasp. With one more practiced whack, the matron hit into Christy’s shinbone and she heard it snap. She collapsed and cried out in pain this time, only to look up and see the big, ice blue eyes of Carrie staring down at her from the window, horror on her face.

  “Now. I don’t care how you get there, but you get back to House Seven and never come back here and bother my girls again.”

  She stomped away, the force with which her feet hit the ground sent tremors that Christy felt all the way to her bones. The pain was excruciating. She bit on her fisted hand to prevent herself from crying out. Carrie was no longer at the window, and she had no clue how she would get back to House Seven.

  She waited until she could gain control of her agony enough to attempt to move. She pulled herself along the rocky ground. The throb and ache as well as the sharpness of the pain redoubled each time her leg moved.

  Her broken finger screamed with pain, and she fought for each pull. Sweat beaded on her forehead and slid into her eyes. Certainly, somewhere inside her, she had the strength to get to House Seven. She grunted with pain as she pulled. She wished she wasn’t in an alley but in a main thoroughfare instead so that people would see her and help. She should have been more careful about her approach. This happened because she had been stupid.

  She looked up to calculate the distance to the end of the alley. She still had ten yards to go. She closed her eyes and dug deep, a prayer falling from her lips. When her eyes opened, a sweet voice spoke, “I thought you came to save me.” Carrie. Wonderful, beautiful Carrie.

  With her head still angled to the rocks because she didn’t have the strength to look back at her, Christy said, “I had no idea you’d have a beast for a matron.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring attention to you.” She moved around to Christy’s front. Christy could now see her shoes. “I can’t believe she did this to you. Savage. That woman is savage. Let me help you.” She moved to the side of Christy and bent down to put Christy’s arm around her shoulders. They barely managed to stand. Carrie’s body sagged under Christy’s weight. Christy worked hard to put most of her weight on her good leg, but each time it hit the ground, raging pain in her broken leg terrorized her.

  “I’m glad you ended up in that house though,” she said through gritted teeth. “Yo
u could have ended up in the basement dungeons if you were a trouble maker, and I probably wouldn’t have found you.” Her speech was halting and slow, just like their escape.

  “You told me to play along, and that’s what I’ve been doing. It’s awful here. I’m going to have to start working in two days.”

  “I guess we’re going to have to be out before then.” Each step brought on the pain. “What kind of work is it?”

  “Factory work, but I don’t know what that means exactly.” Her petite frame sagged even more as she grunted with the effort of helping Christy. “How did you get into a numbered house already? From what I hear, that doesn’t happen often. Everyone wants to get to a numbered house. You just disappeared. I was so scared for you.”

  “I think Senator Alvarez targeted me because of how I look.” She had a puzzled look on her face. “Do you know why we’re here? What happens in the numbered houses?”

  “No. No one has told me anything.”

  Christy stopped walking and leaned on the exterior of Primrose house. “This is a designer baby factory. Alvarez sells babies. He must have a client who was looking for black hair and green eyes. That’s why he snatched me. That’s why I’m in the numbered houses already. He was waiting for a girl like me to come along. Won’t he be shocked to discover I’m a blonde haired, blue-eyed girl?”

  Carrie leaned against the house too. Christy was too heavy for her. She’d have to chance getting her housemates to help. “You’re going to be impregnated? I’m going to be impregnated?”

  “Only me for now. At least I’m scheduled to be. I will prevent it, believe you me. Maybe no one will choose you for a while. You have to be chosen to become pregnant.”

  “This is insane.” Her teenage face crumpled in despair. “I don’t want to get pregnant!”

  “Yes. It is insane. And neither of us is going to get pregnant.” Christy said it with all the force she could muster, even though she had no idea how she was going to keep that promise. “Listen. You’ll never get me across the courtyard.” They both looked over the vast expanse. Carrie grimaced. “It’s too far and I can’t help any more than I am.”

  “Help me down and go find my housemates. They’ll come for me.”

  She lowered Christy to the rocks with a grunt. “How am I supposed to find them?”

  “You can’t miss them. They sit at or near the table right in front of House Seven. Tammy has red hair, milky white skin and freckles—big ones. Teresa looks Asian. Black, slick hair. Lyssa is your typical cheerleader type. Button nose, blonde hair, blue eyes. And Cindy has that kinky, curly hair with brown eyes. Lyssa is sort of the leader—the cheerleader girl.”

  Carrie walked to the edge of the house and peered out. “House Seven is the one to the far right? It’s blue?”

  “Yes. You can’t miss it.”

  “There are a lot of girls out there. And…” She leaned further out. “Are they all pregnant?” The disgust and fear in her voice were impossible to ignore.

  “Yep and don’t talk to any of them. There are some real predators out there. Stick with your housemates while you’re here, even if you don’t really like them. They are your protection.”

  She left, and Christy prayed she’d find them and nothing bad would happen to her on her way. The pain seared through her as she pulled and yanked herself over to try to get a bead on what was going on. Just as she reached the edge of the building, sweat dripping down into her eyes, her saviors arrived. All four of them.

  Lyssa narrowed her eyes. “This was the work of Matron Georgia? What a witch.”

  “Get me to the infirmary,” Christy said.

  Lyssa looked around and then said, “No. We’ve got to get you back to the house, and no one can know you were injured. The infirmary would disqualify you from preparing to conceive and move you back here to the named houses. And Matron Mara will kick you out faster than you can blink if she sees you like this. You’re supposed to be one-hundred percent healthy to be a chosen vessel.” Had she felt better, Christy might have puked at the idea of being a chosen vessel. She watched as Carrie’s eyes widened.

  “Good thing I’m a fast healer?”

  “I told you not to come over here.” She shook her head. “Still, when you left, I should’ve followed you.” Lyssa truly was their leader. Christy could tell she felt responsible for what happened.

  “No feeling guilty about this. I was the stupid one. I can’t walk, so the idea of getting me across that courtyard without anyone knowing I’m hurt is nuts.”

  “We’ll surround you. We can do it. You’ll see. I’ve learned a few tricks in the four years I’ve been here. Besides, we like you and don’t want to lose you. Nurse Winifred is all right. She’s already helped me hide a few things from Matron Mara since I got moved to House Seven. I’m sure she’ll do the same for you if she can. She feels protective of you already, I can tell.” She looked directly at Carrie. “No one can know about this.”

  Carrie put up her hands in front of her. “I’m not going to say anything. The secret is safe with me.”

  “Bridget’s okay, you guys. She’s my friend.”

  Still, Lyssa gave her a stern look. “No one.”

  Carrie nodded.

  As they stood her up, it was impossible to miss the blood that now seeped through her pants near her shins. A compound fracture then? The idea of her bone sticking out from her leg made her more nauseous than she already was. She looked out and saw Cassandra’s cronies. If they saw her, she had no doubt they would try to torment her again.

  “Stay clear of our friends over there.” They all followed her gaze to Cassandra.

  “Yeah. We won’t go near them,” Teresa said.

  Cindy put Christy’s arm on her broken leg side around her shoulders, her arm around Christy’s waist. Tammy put her arm under Christy’s and supported her from the other side. While it wasn’t perfect, it could appear to others that they were just palling around.

  Lyssa stood out in front with Carrie and Teresa stood behind them, shielding Christy from behind. It was a beautiful thing that they would treat her so well without even knowing her, under these horrible circumstances. It took every bit of strength she had not to cry out as her foot hit a rock about three yards in. She grabbed tightly to the girls holding her and grimaced in pain.

  “Sorry about that,” Tammy said. “We’ll keep a better lookout from now on.”

  At about the half way mark, the girls jerked Christy to the side as a ball sailed past them. She couldn’t help it—she screamed out. But as her voice rose in pitch, led by Lyssa, they all burst out laughing. The sound covered her scream.

  Sweat dripped down into her eyes, and her hands slipped from around her housemates several times. She wasn’t sure she was going to make it. By the time they got to the house, the two girls were carrying her completely. She had no strength to help them anymore. She could see Matron Mara peering out the window, looking at them, and she didn’t even care.

  Carrie leaned in and whispered, “I’ll see you later. Get better. We have plans.” She smiled at Christy, a grim smile, almost hopeless. She left.

  Lyssa said, “Now’s the time to really act.” They carried her up the porch steps, barely out of Mara’s view and they sat on the front porch. All her body wanted to do was give out. She didn’t know how they managed it, but the next thing she knew, she woke in a bed, in House Seven. She looked frantically around. Nurse Winifred sat in a chair next to Christy’s bed and smiled at her. So she wasn’t going to be kicked out. At least not yet.

  “That is one nasty break. How did you get into Matron Georgia’s crosshairs anyway? I thought I told you to stay with your housemates.” Nurse Winifred bustled about the room and finally sat down next to her on a chair.

  “You did. Just call me a slow learner.”

  “I’m not sure how we’re going to hide this from Mara, but I will do my best because I know it can be tough over there in the named houses—and you’d end up with Matron Georgia if you wer
e found out.” She frowned, then smiled. “Don’t you worry. If we can quickly get you pregnant, then it won’t matter if she finds out.”

  Chapter 20

  CHRISTY

  “I gave you an injection,” Nurse Winifred said. “That will help with the swelling so we can set your leg soon. We have the bleeding under control for now, but we need to get you stitched up, which we can’t do until your leg is set.”

  “It was a compound fracture then?”

  “Yes. Your shin bone is broken in two, the top half broke the skin and is jutting out a good inch. It’s going to hurt to reset it, but I was able to get a little bit of medicine to take the edge off. I don’t dare put you under because of the risk of complications. If I had an assistant, I wouldn’t be worried, but I don’t.”

  “Thank you.” Christy put on a brave face and smiled at her. She didn’t dare move her leg, the pain was so intense just lying there.

  Winifred gave Christy the pill, and twenty minutes later she returned with Tammy, Teresa, and Cindy. Lyssa was not with them.

  “We have to do it now,” Winifred said. “Lyssa has taken Matron Mara out of the house.” As she spoke, she threaded an IV into the top of Christy’s hand. She didn’t flinch. Next, they put a dowel in her mouth. Winifred exposed her leg, and Teresa and Cindy took her hands. She suddenly felt a bit silly and giggled a little until supreme, excruciating pain hit her leg. She bit hard on the dowel and dug her fingernails into the girls’ hands. They cringed in pain, but didn’t pull away. A couple more thrusts and Nurse Winifred said, “Got it.”

  Tears streamed down Christy’s face and into her ears. Winifred rubbed her hand over Christy’s leg, pressing here and there. “Yes. We’ve got it.” Her leg still throbbed, but there was a relief from the sharp pain. Cindy brushed Christy’s long bangs away from her face. Both she and Teresa were saying what Christy thought must be soothing things, but her entire body pulsed with pain, preventing her from focusing on anything. Nurse Winifred stitched up the wound from the compound fracture. Winifred’s mouth was also moving, but Christy couldn’t focus, her fingers clutched wildly at the bedsheets.