Trapped: A SciFi Convict Romance (The Condemned Book 1) Page 20
She’d woken up here. To searing heat. Her head spinning. Her jaw throbbing while her stomach plunged, her right cheek slammed into the wall, and her mouth contorted into a shocked O. Around her, ear-shattering screams ricocheted through the small space while dim bile-colored lights flickered overhead and twisted bodies flashed in and out of visibility.
Where in God’s name was she?
“Davies?....What…happening?” The sound of her name startled her. The voice came from behind.
A shameful wave of relief crashed through her.
Though the sound was distorted, she recognized the speaker. Pratt. The soldier assigned to guard her while she collected soil samples. Like the rest of the Command Council soldiers assigned to protect the scientists, he’d never warmed to her. Nor she to him. Still, right now, his familiar voice was the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard.
“Pratt…” It was hard getting the words out, the force of the drop driving her tongue to the roof of her mouth. “No…idea.”
“Hear…me?” Pratt’s distorted voice had grown shriller. “Help!”
“No…panic.” Even knowing it was futile, she tried to turn. She only succeeded in exhausting herself further. “Nothing…to do.” She let her muscles go slack. It offered no change in her position, but it did conserve energy. “Other…crew?”
There was a momentary pause. As if Pratt was assessing whatever he could see.
“No.” Pratt’s single word was laced with despair.
“For…the…better,” she pushed out. Whatever this was, it wasn’t good. She didn’t want Bella or any of the others anywhere near it.
It was almost impossible to believe only two weeks had passed since she’d quietly slipped onto the Academy shuttle, part of the scientific team charged by the Command Council with exploring distant planets for viable plants that could be cultivated on Earth.
Of course, she’d had her own reasons for coming, but she’d been excited to think she might, thanks to her expertise in soil ecosystems, be a part of the team that found a way to save Earth’s remaining survivors and break the cycle of famine, blight, and death that had been plaguing their planet since the disappearance of the great forests and the onset of the dust storms.
It would have been a tremendous triumph. Especially for a girl who’d only been allowed to return to school and study such an undignified subject as a twisted punishment. After all, as her esteemed father had said, who better to study dirt than dirt itself?
And if that ‘dirt’ somehow found her sister Khyla alive…well, that would have been the answer to every prayer she’d had for the last two years.
“Where…are…we?” Pratt’s terrified bellow reverberated off the walls.
They were spinning and dropping so fast the walls had begun to shudder. The others’ screams grew louder.
“Don’t…know.” She tried to shout above the noise. Were they still on Dragath25? The heat was all too familiar, but the walls of this container were curved like the transport holds at the non-Council barracks back on Earth. She strained to turn her head a quarter inch. They seemed made of the same dull, gray-flecked metal, too.
Her heart beat a little faster.
Maybe she was crazy, but she almost would have preferred some kind of unfamiliar technology. Anything that might suggest whoever had stuck her on this plummeting hell wasn’t human. Because while being the first to encounter alien life might have been dangerous, she already knew how monstrous humans could be.
She shifted her focus to the men in her sight. The flashing light offered up brief glimpses of bodies barely covered in tattered scraps of fabric or nothing at all, their contorted limbs and torsos covered in crude tattoos that looked as rough as the men themselves. Some looked emaciated, the lines of each rib laid bare by the flickering lights. Others had the kind of thick bulk that came from eating more than their share. But one thing was constant. All had 225 PROPERTY carved somewhere on their skin. The big, bold letters blinking in and out of visibility like some terrible broken sign.
Her heart, already overworked, slammed harder against her ribs.
She knew 225. Bella had mentioned him often enough. He was the leader of the largest Dragath25 prison gang. Which meant the men in her line of sight had likely been his gang-mates, the most notorious of rapists and killers exiled from Earth by the Command Council.
She’d find no allies among them. Only another threat.
“P—pretty.” The ominous word issued from the giant whose outstretched hand was an arm’s length from her nose
He was staring at her. Or more aptly at the telling Command Council tattoo seared into her neck.
“Going…fuck…then…break…Council…bitch.” Though garbled, the giant’s underlying threat reached her loud and clear. “Can’t….wait…hear…scream.” The man’s long, matted rust colored hair stood up at all ends, exposing a low sloping forehead, pug-nose, and a raised, white scar that snaked from his eyebrow to the corner of his mouth. His eyes were beady yellow slits glittering with lust and the promise of pain.
It was a look she knew all too well.
She shrank within herself, her mouth going dry, memories turning her blood to ice, shattering in seconds all the progress she’d made these last few months.
Her gaze sank to the floor, obedient, submissive. If not for the force cleaving her to the wall, her body would have followed. Her head bowing, her knees folding under her, her legs sliding wide as was only proper. Compliance the only way to lessen the blows.
You will do as you’re told. Strike. The birch cane—an expensive rarity in an era when the forests had long ago disappeared—lashed her back, sending fire licking across her skin, the flimsy silk of her expensive Council robe affording little protection. She didn’t need to look up to know her father stood just behind Ren, his expression harsh and unreadable as always. You will behave in a manner befitting a man in my position. Strike. Strike. Do you understand me, Ayanna? The punishment stick, well-polished and strong despite its advanced age, showed no sign of breaking. No matter how she prayed. But then again, Lead Councilman Ren Hollisworth took exceptional care of every possession he acquired, except perhaps his future wife.
The lurch of the container smacked her back to the present.
She shook off the memory. Buried it deep. The past couldn’t touch her now. And whatever happened next, she wasn’t Ayanna Talis anymore. She was Cadet Ava Davies, a trained Academy scientist, not some bruised and broken pathetic girl who had no choice but to take it.
“Pratt?” She forced herself to return eye contact with Yellow Eyes. To pretend they both hadn’t registered her momentary cowering. “….weapon?”
Pratt’s lack of an answer was answer enough.
The killer’s outstretched hand twitched, his dirty fingernails stretching toward her.
But she wasn’t down for the count yet. If she hadn’t been searched before she was stuck in this hold, the small, homemade spear Bella had insisted she carry everywhere was still tucked inside her boot. It might not be enough, but it was something. Yellow Eyes wasn’t going to find her the easy target her fiancé had. Her days of folding without a fight were over.
A disembodied, nasal voice filled the hold. “Condemned of Dragath25, you are now the property of the Tribunal.”
The hair at the back of her neck prickled. She’d heard that name before.
Around her the others had gone silent.
“Your sole purpose,” the voice continued, “is to mine the veins of silver ore found in the caverns. Meet your quota of fifty kitloms per day and you will live. Fail and you will die.”
Roars of protest shook the hold.
“Descent will end in forty seconds.”
Her breath left in a rush.
Her gaze locked with Yellow Eyes. From the way he looked at her, she didn’t think she’d have a chance to make her quota. Frankly, she didn’t think she’d survive five minutes past release from the wall.
Time slowed. Blood pulsed th
rough her veins. Her gaze narrowed until all she saw was the twisted half-smile of the threat in front of her.
She’d been here before. She’d done what she must to survive. She would again.
The hold shuddered once more. The lights flickered and went out. And, just like that, the hold lurched to a stop.
She tumbled to the floor, pain winding up her wrists as her hands shot forward, just managing to save her face from slamming into metal. Around her, the thump of other bodies echoed.
She was already fumbling for her spear, her fingers just closing around the precious shaft, when a meaty hand closed round her ankle.
Copyright © 2015 by Orchid, Inc.
Sign up for newsletter at www.alisonaimes.com to be notified when TAKEN is ready for release.
About the Author
Alison Aimes is the award-winning author of the sexy sci-fi romance series the Condemned as well as the sizzling contemporary romance Billionaires’ Revenge series. A sci-fi fanatic with a PhD in Modern History, she’s an all-over-the-map kind of woman whose always had a love for dramatic stories and great books, no matter the era. Now, she’s creating her own stories full of intrigue and passion, but always with a happy-ever-after ending. She lives in Maryland with her husband, two kids, and her dog. When not in front of the computer, she can be found hanging with family and friends, hiking, trying to turn herself into a pretzel through yoga, listening to a fabulous TED talk, or, last but not least, sitting on the couch imagining her characters’ next great adventures.
Alison can be found online at www.alisonaimes.com
Connect with Alison Aimes:
Website: http://www.alisonaimes.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook/alisonaimes
Twitter: https://twitter.com/alisonaimes
Other Books By Alison Aimes
IN THE CONDEMNED SERIES:
TRAPPED, March 2016
TAKEN, coming August 2016
Copyright
Trapped
Book One in the Condemned Series
Bookmark: Copyright
Published by Orchid Publishing
Copyright 2015. Orchid, Inc.
Cover by Patricia Schmitt
EPub Edition ISBN: 978-0-9964683-0-5
Print Edition ISBN: 978-0-9964683-1-2
Excerpt from TAKEN copyright © 2015 by Alison Aimes
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
This work of fiction is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at www.alisonaimes.com
Interior format by The Killion Group
http://thekilliongroupinc.com
Thank you for reading Trapped: Book One in the Condemned series! I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, please help other readers find this book:
1. Help other people find this book by writing a review.
2. Sign up for new release emails and my newsletter by contacting me at www.alisonaimes.com
3. Come like my Facebook page at
http://www.facebook.com/alisonaimesauthor