Amirra Read online

  We were paraded down the center of the street towards the center of town. The people buying and selling on the street didn’t pay any heed to our straggly band. Slavery was apparently well accepted here. I had heard of it of course but none of the towns along the mountains practiced such dealings in human flesh so I was appalled that it was obviously so well accepted here. A few inquisitive glances were shot in my direction because I was the only one covered from head to toe.

  Once we reached what was obviously the residential districts, the guards began to call out, “New stock, noon tomorrow. New stock, noon tomorrow.”

  People began to look through their windows, few of which contained glass though many had makeshift shutters, to keep out the inclement weather I supposed. They were curious and were sizing us up before we reached the market area to determine if there were any worth purchasing. I drew the most attention, though none asked about me. There seemed to be a tacit understanding that if no one acknowledged my existence they could overlook whatever it was that I was. I was evidently unique or Cral would not have brought me into this city that damned the mutated. It also became clear that at least one mutation was accepted here, the Fnon. They were a mutation that still looked human but it robbed people of the ability to do anything but the most basic tasks, which was evident through their vacant expressions. They are seen by others as a good race for servitude because they would never know better than to obey. In the mountains they lived in small family groups and were harmless because they were vegetarian and could never be provoked to anger. I had lived with some along my travels.

  We finally reached our destination. It was a large square that had two squat buildings in its center. From the smell I could tell that the buildings were used to hold livestock. We were taken into the dark interior of the larger structure. Once inside it was apparent that the pens in this building were not intended to hold animals, only people. There were rows and rows of cages. There were no walls, no doors, or even sanitary facilities inside the pens. Apparently, we were expected to relieve ourselves in a trough below the floor of the cage. We were walked past all of these cages into a back room that was obviously a communal shower.

  We were all commanded to strip. Our clothes were fed into a slot on the wall. The guards sneered at our emaciated frames. When Carra made no move to step into the water, a guard pushed her off balance enough that she fell. Before the guard could take another move towards her, I moved next to her and helped her to her feet and guided her into the hot water. Buckets of an astringent liquid were placed just beyond the showering water. We were directed to use the rags soaking in the buckets to scrub ourselves. I assumed that the liquid would kill any pests that were crawling along our scalps. I poured some of the water over Carra and continued to scrub her thoroughly. Knowing my pelt was far more likely to hide crawling pests, I poured the remainder of the bucket over myself and scrubbed all over vigorously. This was one thing that I would not begrudge. I walked the apathetic young woman and myself back into the hot water. The scent of the astringent fluid lingered on our skins but I did feel considerably better being clean for the first time in over a week.

  Upon leaving we were given a clean rag to dry with and issued a short tunic for clothing. For those of us that were tall, the tunic didn’t reach down far enough for modesty. We were given no quarter and sent to the pens. Men and women were separated in the cages. I hoped someone would have the sense to watch Carra. Red was locked into a cage near hers with a few other men. He looked at me and gave the barest nod that he would keep an eye on her.

  I was escorted, with a guard on either side to a side door. The door was solid and allowed for no look inside. Once it was opened I realized I was to be kept separate from everyone else. Apparently prospective buyers would be allowed to look at the stock in the cages before the sale was to begin. They couldn’t risk the normal clientele seeing me. I could see that a guard had been placed outside of my door by the shadow I could see under the door. There were no lights and no windows. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all cement. I curled up on the floor to wait. I wasn’t sure exactly what to expect but I knew that I would not be sold with the others.

  IV

  I must have drifted off to sleep as the hours inched by. I had no sense of time in my sensory deprivation. I was startled awake by voices outside my door.

  “Jemson, bring the cat,” Cral’s bark was distinguishable even through the heavy door.

  The guard quickly unlocked the door. The light blinded me; I could make no immediate move without sight. By the time my eyes adjusted to the light I had been dragged to my feet and was being steered, roughly, by the guards on either side of me to the back of the building. Once again, I was passed through the doors to the shower. This time I was not surrounded by others suffering the same humiliation as myself. I was acutely aware of the six guards set to watch me. Each was watching me with a sneer on his face and cruelty twinkling in his eyes. Their slimy eyes slid up and down me, making me feel dirty and raising my anger. I schooled my expression so they did not get the satisfaction of seeing my ire. I knew they would take any excuse to lay their filthy, grubby hands on me, some to beat me, some for their personal pleasure.

  “Strip and shower. Don’t try anything funny, you are well guarded Senorita Gato. Use this soap. There is a new outfit for you once you’re finished,” Cral tossed a bar of soap at me then indicated the folded clothing held by one of the guards. I did not bother to catch the bar but let it fall to my feet. I glared at my captor. He was no longer dressed as a ruffian. He was now dressed immaculately in a uniform that looked as if it had at one time been an army issue. It was clean but contained neither braid nor pin to indicate that he was actually an officer. I kicked the slave tunic aside and stepped into the water. This soap was not slave issue for getting rid of pests. A rich flowery scent was headily filling my immediate vicinity becoming so strong I could taste it in the back of throat. I had never used soap so rich and my sensitive nose couldn’t stand it. It was too rich for my sensitive nose, making me want to gag.

  I scrubbed my entire body with the sudsy soap, including my hair. “Enough. Exit,” Cral commanded while gesturing for another guard to approach me and hand me a towel that had once been white but now could aspire to nothing more than a dull grey. The fabric was scratchy on my face and palms, where my pelt was thinnest. Fortunately, it smelled cleaner than it looked. When I returned the towel to the guard, he backed away and another stepped forward with a pile of folded fabrics; some of the fabric was tissue thin, brightly colored, and shimmered while others were dark cool colors of a heavy material.

  I had never seen fabrics as rich and fine as these. It took me a moment to recover from my curiosity. Once I did, I was twice as angry only now it was directed at me for being so foolish as to show my interest. “It didn’t matter if the slave was showered with fabrics made of gold thread, no riches could take the place of freedom,” I told myself.

  I held up several of the pieces and unfolded them. I had never seen clothes like these; I had no idea what to do with all of the pieces. One I figured out was a pair of knickers and slid those on. To make them fit I had to tear a hole in the seam to thread my tail through. I couldn’t fathom where to go from there. Though I couldn’t hear his words, I heard Cral bark an order to one of the remaining guards. He moved forward and took one of the pieces dangling from the arms of the man with the wardrobe. It was one of the thicker pieces of fabric. It was pale blue, nearly the shade of my pelt. It was only a few inches wide but very long. There was a section in the middle that was too thick to see through but the fabric on either side was semi-transparent.

  “Lift your arms,” growled the man. He reached around me and centered the fabric so that the opaque piece held firmly to my breasts. He was close enough I could smell his stench, a mixture of sweat, dust, and booze. Obviously, the guards had not had opportunity to bathe yet. The fabric in front was beaded in an intricate pattern almost the same color as the fabric, just differe
nt enough to draw the eye. The guard tied the pieces tight enough to force me to expel the air I was holding in my lungs. The fabric hid very little of my breasts. It was tight enough that I was very nearly spilling over the top. The next piece he picked up was apparently a pair of long pantaloons in a combination of bright pinks, greens, and blues. The fabric was thin and revealed more than it would hide. I stepped into the leggings; again, the seam was modified for my tail. It clasped at the ankle and very low on the waist, any wider and it would have not rested on my hips. The pattern on the chest piece was continued on both the waist and the ankles in a color that complimented the bright fabric of the leggings; the beads were a color just different enough to draw the eye. The pantaloons bubbled out around the ankles.

  Next, I was directed to put my arms through a small vest the same shifting, bright colors of the pantaloons. A band was placed across my forehead and veils were lifted down to cover my face below my eyes and my hair. The veil was the same blue as the knickers and the chest piece. The guard then stepped back, joining the others in their circle. There was still one piece left in the pile. This was the heavy dark purple fabric. I lifted it and devised its use immediately. It was a cloak with a hood large enough to pull down over the face. Once I had it on, not a single part of my body could be seen.

  “Put these sandals on to protect your feet. Once we arrive you will remove them again and hand them to J’ral,” Cral indicated the shortest guard among the group; other than being short, the guard looked much the same as the rest. “Put out your hands,” Cral commanded after I had the worn slippers on my feet. He quickly tied a knot that was tight enough that it almost cut off my circulation. As an additional precaution the rope was also used to securely tie my arms to my waist. Essentially, I could only walk because the heavy cloak would prevent me from making any sudden dashes. The hood was pulled down over my face, limiting my view to just a few feet in front of and on either side of me. I heard guards take position around me. Cral grabbed my elbow through the heavy fabric of the cloak and we began to walk. Apparently, I was to be led by him personally. This did nothing to quell my building anxiety. If I was important enough to him to be led personally, I would have very little opportunity to escape before I was taken to auction.

  It took us nearly 30 minutes to reach our destination. No lamps had lit the streets we traveled. I did not hear a single other traveler walk past our party in the quiet, dusty streets. Cral kept a vice-like grip on my arm the entire trip. I was directed down a short set of stairs and pushed through a door. Cral’s hand never let up. I was sure I would have a bruise where his hand was. I was led through another door, this time I was released and the door snapped shut behind me. I flipped my head back in an effort to raise my hood. It fell back but it I still could see very little. The only light was coming from a crack at the bottom of the door. I saw shadows pass back and forth and could hear murmured voices but could not distinguish anything specific. By slowly shifting in back and to each side, I realized I was in a very small room; it had probably served as a closet at some point. There was a door handle and when I wedged myself against the wall so that my tied hands could reach it, I discovered it was locked.

  I tried to think of some way to escape but my mind drew a blank. All I could think about was my thirst and my hunger. The lack of food made me lightheaded but my insides burned for water. My mouth was dry enough that my tongue was sticking to the roof of my mouth. There was a sudden hush in the murmurings beyond my prison.

  “Good evening Senors and Senoras,” that was Cral’s schooled voice, “I have asked you to assemble tonight because I am aware of many of your, shall we say, special interests.” A low murmur followed that comment. He cleared his throat to bring attention back to himself, “Many of you I know personally but there are a few new faces here tonight. I have taken the necessary precautions to ensure that this acquisition has not been seen by the public. This specimen is very unique. There has been none quite like her found before. We followed her for many days and are certain that she will not be missed by anyone,” Cral’s voice caused despair to wash over me.

  Cral’s voice continued but I was unaware of what he was saying because I was so wrapped up in my own depressing reflection. The jingling door handle pulled me out of my reverie. The door opened. This time the light beyond was low and it was easy for me to see the room I had been placed in. Indeed, I had been kept in a closet of a rich drawing room. Though those gathered could not see me, I had a clear view of them. The faces were all partially obscured, probably to give some semblance of anonymity to the mask wearers. The room was hushed in expectation. A guard pulled me from my closet and untied the rope that bound my arms to my waist. The wrist knot stayed in place. He flipped the hood back over my face and roughly guided me in front of the expectant audience.

  It is funny the details that you notice when you are sure that your fate is doomed. I noticed that the woman in the front row had fat sausage-like legs with feet stuffed into glittery shoes that were too small for her. The other detail that I noticed was that the room was filled with the sickening combination of musky cologne and sweet perfumes. I was taken to stand in front of the small crowd of people. After the clientele in room had hushed, I felt the cloak pulled from my shoulders. I suddenly felt naked with so many cold eyes surveying my flesh, as if I were a piece of livestock. Indeed I was little better and would probably be treated with less respect as untainted livestock was rare. The murmuring picked up again, this time more subdued as people spoke in quiet tones to partners. I saw the brief flicker of lust spark behind the masks of several of the men and even a few of the women. I refused to look at any one face. After glancing over the faces briefly I straightened my shoulders and focused my gaze upon a discoloration on the back wall. It was a bright spot on the wall surrounded by faded paint. Obviously something had hung there for a long time.

  My keen hearing could distinguish some of their individual conversations but I never quite caught the whole.

  “…perfect specimen…”

  “…never…couldn’t be shown…”

  “…madama would be interested…”

  “…bring a good price…”

  There was one among the crowd whose cold, fixed glare drew me to his face. He stood in the back near the discoloration. His eyes glinted with something, what I could not be sure but it did not seem to be lust as the others had carefully hidden. He locked gazes with me. His eyes were dark grey, his skin pale but not the blue or green of an Outworlder, his face lined with the start of wrinkles, and his build was wiry; his clothes hung on his thin frame. Cral stepped forward to the right of me, causing me to break contact with the tall man. Cral held up his right hand for silence.

  “Senorita Gato please circle so that the assembled can see your full form,” I did not move immediately so the guard on my left grabbed my elbow and guided me, roughly, in a circle, “You have now seen for yourself the uniqueness of the product. In addition to what you see, I can tell you that she has the ability leap 15 feet into the air from a standing position and she had the stamina to jog for 6 hours without tiring. As you can see for yourself she would be a good acquisition for any madam with customers who prefer a more exotic experience, she would also make a strong laborer, or she could become an exhibit in some of your private collections.”

  I was burning with hatred for my captor and for these people that had no qualms about dealing in human flesh simply to fulfill their desires. I had to concentrate very hard on the spot on the wall. I drew my mind away from the situation, back to the day before my father had gone missing.

  “Amirra, up here on the surface we are free. Perhaps we have to work to survive but we are free of the walls of the Catacombs and of the walls of society that bound us even surer,” his deep voice kept me in rapt attention. “You are old enough now to know that I am not from the Outerworld. I am from a world called the Catacombs. The Catacombs are massive underground dwellings where people from the Old World hid in an effort to su
rvive the pollution and the radiation. They secreted themselves down there over two hundred years ago. The reason I left is unimportant. What is important is that we are free. Do you understand Amirra?”

  “Why did you and momma come here to stay in the mountains alone, daddy?” I was becoming very curious about my parents as people. I had started to ask why about everything.

  “Sold,” Cral’s voice brought me from my memory.

  “Senor, do you wish to make arrangements to take her tonight or would you prefer to pick her up from the auction house. We have an understanding that I will not release her until the cash is in my hand,” Cral’s voice was hissing next to me.

  “Of course, I will make arrangements to pick her up tomorrow night. I will meet you at the auction house, good day,” the tall man inclined his head to Cral in farewell and walked from the room. My temper burned brighter. How could man purchase another human being and then walk away as if he had just ordered a trinket from a craftsman? I was recovered, re-tied, and led back to my cage in the auction house. Cral ordered me to strip before he shoved me into my pen. The cement floor was cold. I was thankful once more for my pelt and fell into an exhausted dreamless slumber.