Rachel

It had been difficult to sleep through the long bumpy ride. The ground of the trailer was hard and the metal bars of the cage kept digging into Rachel's sides as she was pushed and jostled among the other prisoners. The unpleasant smells of body odor and human refuse had grown stronger and stronger as the journey went on. With nowhere to relieve themselves, they had no choice but to use whatever space they could find, and there was no space to be had. Some had become nauseated and their discomforted stomachs only added to the noxious smells when they could no longer hold back their retching.

Locked in her cell with no prospect of escape, Rachel had tried her best to find rest, but with little success. By the time the trailer finally came to what seemed to be its final destination, her head was pounding in protest to the lack of sleep and water it had received since the sibla had taken her hostage. She felt sick, cold, scared, alone. She wondered how long this sort of misery could continue before she would be unable to keep going.

The sound of screeching metal rang out as the doors to the trailer were swung open, flooding the dark carriage with the harsh light of day. Rachel squinted, quickly shielding her eyes as best she could with her bound hands, cowering along with her fellow captives, from the light as if the sun's rays were toxic. Of course, it was not the daylight they feared, but the sibla it illuminated so clearly. Their captors were back, and Rachel could only imagine what now lay in store for them.

"Rise and shine," one of them jeered. "Got a long day ahead of us."

A few of the bounty hunters climbed up into the trailer, handing out paper cups to each of them through the bars of the cage and filling them with brackish water from the pitchers they carried. The water tasted terrible but Rachel was so thirsty she gulped her cup down quickly, her parched throat crying out for more. It didn't come, and she was instantly envious of the older girls around her who seemed to have had the sense to drink more slowly. None of them offered up any of their portions.

"These humans stink," one of the sibla commented as he peered into the trailer and wrinkled his nose.

"Yeah well, we'll be rid of them soon enough," another answered. "What's the boss's plan?"

"Gorn says to unload one of the cages," the man outside answered. "Wants a collection of young, decent looking, mature females. Thinks the slaver who owns this shop will pay well for em but wants to make sure the product looks premium."

The sibla in the trailer nodded and began roaming among their cramped prisons, eyeing them all critically. Rachel shrunk back from the bars, slipping in-between two other girls in her cage. They didn't protest, obviously too terrified to notice, their gaze focused intently on their captor and he circled back to stare at them again.

"This one looks good enough," the sibla man said, squinting to peer past the girls on the outer edge of the cage.

Rachel felt her heart pounding in her chest. Her cage. He'd chosen her cage!

"I'd say there are close to twenty in there, all decent looking. Young breeders from what I can see. Most look to be about fifteen? Seventeen?" Boss selling em by the cageful again?"

"Yep," Rachel heard the man outside respond. "Get rid of them quickly that way. Make the slavers deal with the ones that might not make the grade."

"Bring the crane around," her captor shouted out the door of the trailer. A few moments later Rachel heard the sound of a small engine and then the clang of metal against metal as a chain with a heavy hook landed on the top of their cage. Rachel screamed along with her fellow captives as they were lifted off the bed of the trailer, their cage swinging precariously back and forth with an ominous creak.

"Shut up in there!" one of the sibla shouted, banging his baton against the bars. "You all mind your manners and keep quite or there'll be hell to pay."

The cries of the humans beside her slowly muted to muffled sobs and whimpers. It seemed no one was willing to test the threats of their captors. Not one dared cry out again, even as they continued to sway, transported out of the truck and dropped roughly to the ground. Rachel's body mashed against the girls next to her in the process, her aching limbs further bruising in the process. Not that she had time to worry about her injuries. Listening to the sound of heavy boots walking towards them, Rachel felt as if her heart would jump right out of her chest.

"Gifre, my friend," a deep voice said. "It's been some time."

Rachel was able to peer out from the bodies of her fellows enough to catch a glimpse of the sibla men talking. The first was Gorn, the same horrible creature who'd ordered her mother shot. The second was one she hadn't seen before. He was a tall, thin man, with the same nasty scowl of the monster's who'd destroyed her home and murdered her parents. His icy blue eyes flitted towards their cage through folds of gray skin that appeared to be signs of age. His scraggly jet black hair was thinning and streaked with white.

"Gorn," he said with a nod, "Got something to sell?"

"An assortment of mature females," came the answer. "All taken from the free settlements. Prime breeding stock. I know you've had luck with that sort of thing before. Thought I'd offer you first claim over them."

The slaver eyed their cage, clearly trying to see inside, but Rachel couldn't imagine he could even tell how many were crammed into the tight space let alone judge anything about them.

"Let me see the merchandise," the slaver said, turning back to their captor. Gorn only gave a small smile and shook his head.

"We are offerin' the lot by the cageful," he said. "You'll get more for your gold this way, I assure you. You know how much wild blood is worth right now, being out of season and all."

The slaver frowned, again trying to peer through the bars.

"How much per cage?" he asked.

"4000 gold notes," came the answer. "Gotta be at least fifteen, twenty, girls in there. You can up-sell some for 400 plus easy."

"3000," the slaver shot back. "Can't see half of em. No telling how old or how thin the ones you got crammed in there really are. Sickly looking ones don't sell as breeders and do even worse as meat stock. I don't have the time or patience to feed them up."

"3500," his friend replied. "Come on Gifre. I gotta make a living too, don't I? If you aren't happy with the lot I'll give you a discount come the next tribute season. You can have first shot at the prime vealers too."

Gifre gave one more skeptical look at their cage before Rachel heard him grunt and nod his head. "Fine," he said. "I'll take the one cage. Unload them in back."

Rachel fell into the girl next to her again as the cage was lifted unevenly into the air again and carried to a building where they were dropped with a loud thud. The sound of metal scraping heralded the falling of a rolling door that shut them into a cold concrete room, illuminated only by few a dingy yellow lights that hung from the ceiling.

"Alright, all of you out!" Gifre shouted. "Brethan, help me get them in order. Ren, get the hose. They all smell to high heaven."

Rachel could hardly disagree with the sibla's statement. The odor of human waste was stronger again now that they were inside, though not as bad as it had been in the enclosed trailer. Rachel saw two other sibla men quickly obey Gifre's command, going to the back of the room and untangling a rolled up hose. Clearly Gifre was the man in charge.

"Line up!" the head slaver shouted at them as he opened the cage and dragged the first girl roughly out into the warehouse.

Rachel heard one of the other girls cry out and saw the slaver rap the back of her legs sharply with his baton as she exited the cage. A second pitiful cry. Rachel cringed as he hit another girl in that arm.

"Make it quick!" Gifre snapped.

Rachel did her best not to be trampled as the others quickly pushed their way into formation, dodging the blows their captors continued to rain on them as they tried to obey.

"Stand still and hold out your hands," Gifre commanded.

Rachel felt her heart leap into her throat as she saw Brethan pull a rusty looking knife from his belt. She heard a small gasp of pain as the man sibla and took the first girl's arm roughly in his hand and hastily cut the rope from her wrists. Rachel bit her lower lip in fear but she didn't dare move as Brethan continued down the line.

As he came closer, Rachel put her head down and held her arms out further, hoping to keep the weapon away from her body. She squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation of the knife and soon felt rough hands take hold of her arms, jerking them forward so sharply she almost fell. 

The blade scraped against her skin and Rachel swallowed her cry as the metal nicked her flesh. As soon as Brethan released his grip she brought her arms back to her body. She saw the bright red appear along her wrists where the weapon had grazed her and blinked back tears.

"Well, they're filthy," Gifre commented in assessment as he eyed them skeptically once they stood assemble. "Remove your clothes," he shouted. Rachel hesitated as did all the others. They looked to each other uncertainly. The slaver frowned deeply in response.

"Damn uppity wild humans," he cursed. He walked to one of the frightened girls and grabbed her arm tightly. "I said strip!" He snarled, grabbing the hem of her dress and ripping it down the front before pushing her back in line.

Rachel saw the girl next to her beginning to undress herself with shaky hands. Would nobody protest? she wondered. She didn't want to obey. She wanted to hold on to whatever small  protection her dress offered from these horrible creatures. But everyone else was following their orders. What would the slavers do to her if she resisted? Fresh tears welling in her eyes, Rachel slipped her dress from her shoulders and let it fall at her feet. Her whole body tingled with cold and her muscles stiffened. She'd never felt so exposed. So helpless and vulnerable. Rachel wrapped her arms tightly around herself.

"I want as few marks on you as possible," Gifre said, his eyes scanning them all as they stood naked before him. "But that doesn't mean I have any compunction about leaving a couple of scars here and there." Rachel cringed as he rapped his baton smartly in his hand. "And if any of you are too unruly to work with, I can promise you will quickly find how dispensable you are. Now clean em up Brethan," he ordered.

"On it, boss, " came the quick response.

Not a moment later the man aimed a long hose at them. Ice cold water hit Rachel full force, stinging her entire body and distracting from her freshly branded skin. The squeals of pain elicited from all the girls did nothing to stop the attack of the freezing liquid. Hosing down the line, the slaver kept his aim steady as he went for a second pass. By the time the water was turned off Rachel was shivering, her skin sore from the harsh assault.

"Let's get a look at the merchandise," the head slaver said as the water was shut off. The man walked down the line eying them all critically. "Names Gifre, he said. "Until you leave this facility I own each and every one of you. Is that understood?"

Silence echoed in the wake of his question.

"Answer me! he demanded. "Say "yes master" do you understand?"

"Yes master" came the resounding chorus.

"Humph," he snorted, walking to the first girl in line and dragging her forward. Gifre frowned as the human wrapped her arms around herself and looked down.

"Head up human!," he ordered, grabbing hold of her chin and forcing her eyes to meet his. "And none of this false modesty." He pulled her arms away from her torso.

"You all better get used to it fast," he said, directing his comment to all of them. "You are all animals and belong to the sibla now. You have no rights and no voice unless we tell you to speak. When I order you to step forward you will do so with your arms at your sides and chins held high so we can examine you properly. Is that understood?"

"Yes master," Rachel was quick to answer along with the others. She heard a chuckle from Gifre's assistants.

"Look's like you're getting through to them after all boss," one of them smirked.

Rachel held her breath as the slavers forced each girl forward in turn. Prodding them with their batons, jotting down notes on their weight and bodies.

"This one's a breeder," Gifre remarked as he finished his assessment of third girl in line. "The other two can go with the meat stock. Already got a decent heft and neither of them are pretty enough to reproduce decent offspring. "There better be some other decent breeders in here or Gorn's gonna be sorry."

Breeder? Meat stock? The words sent shivers through Rachel's body that had nothing to do with the cold. She watched as Gifre's assistants pushed the first three girls into cages set up along the other edges of the room separating them as their boss had ordered. Tears slipped silently down Rachel's cheeks.

The next four girls met with Gifre's approval it seemed. All joined the "breeders" cage. Rachel was terrified at how quickly the slavers were making it down the line. She wished she could do something. Anything to disappear. To run. But the sibla were armed and there was no way out of the warehouse that she could see.

"What should we do with this one?"

Rachel jumped at the sound of the voice by her side. It seemed one of Gifre's assistants had finally noticed her. She swallowed a cry of panic as he grabbed her roughly by the arm and dragged her to the center of the room.

"She's rather sickly looking ain't she? Doesn't belong with this lot. Too young for breeding, too small for physical labor. What do you think Ren?"

"The younger females are easier to domesticate," Gifre's other assistant suggested. "Even if they were born wild. House slave? Some like to keep the little girls as pets."

"She gives off a weak vibe though," Brethan said with a slight frown, looking Rachel up and down. "And she's not particularly pretty. Not a lot of wild veal on the market right now. She'd fetch a better price as meat. "

Rachel felt her stomach drop.

"Not at her weight," Ren countered. "She's far too thin, ain't she boss?"

Rachel held her breath as the head slaver walked over and eyed her critically.

"She is rather boney," he answered, "but I agree with Brethan. Perhaps someone will buy her up as food stock. We'll try feeding her for a month and see if we can't get her fattened up a bit. Have those couple of vealers now. Both of decent size. Maybe someone will take them all as a bundle. If she won't grow fast enough we'll sell her wholesale. There's a trader who uses the ground for animal feed."

"Please," Rachel said, finding her voice again as he made his damning proclamation. "Let me go. Please!"

Gifre frowned at her. "If you keep moving that tongue of yours, I'll have one of my men cut it out," he said.

"Always did like a good tongue sandwich," Brethan laughed.

Rachel kept her mouth shut.

"Ren, put her in the back room with those two boys we got in yesterday," Gifre ordered. "Brethan and I can finish up with the rest. When you've locked her up you can start feeding the others. There's a new farm shipment coming in this afternoon to evaluate and process. Duran already closed up the main shop. We'll deal with the wild stock tomorrow."

Rachel did not dare resist as Ren nodded, tying her hands together again and leading her through a series of bare hallways to another room filled with row after row of metal prisons, each crammed full of human captives.

"In you go," he said, pushing her unceremoniously inside a cell already occupied by two naked boys who appeared only slightly older than her. Rachel felt a blush rise in her cheeks and wished she could wrap her arms around her body to cover her shame as they stared at her.

"Are you from Demin too?" she asked one of them, unable to stand the awkward silence. She didn't recognize his face.

"Shush," he whispered. "They don't like us to talk." Sure enough, Rachel saw Ren turn back and scowl in her direction.

"If you don't keep quiet you'll be sorry," he snarled. "Boss already warned you didn't he? If he catches you talkin', especially in front of the customers, he'll take your tongue. Got it?" Rachel nodded.

"Dinner time anyway," he said, opening the cage and dropping a bowl in front of her and each of her fellow captives. From the corner of the room, he hefted a large pot and came back to dole out a ladle full of gray mush into her dish.

"What is it?" Rachel asked, wearily eyeing the strange gruel. It looked exceedingly unappetizing.

"Don't matter what it is," Ren answered, "you'll eat it or we'll force it down your throat."

Rachel picked up the bowl in her bound hands.

"But there's no spoon," she said.

The sibla man frowned as he put down the pot. "You're an animal," he answered grabbing her hair in his hand, ignoring Rachel's cry of pain as his fingers dug into her scalp. "Eat it like an animal." Ren shoved her face into the bowl. Rachel struggled uselessly against him, fighting to breath as the tasteless gray goo filled her mouth and nose.  He threw her onto the ground in response.

"Now finish it all, what's left in the bowl and on the floor. If I find any trace of your meal uneaten you'll get a beating you won't soon forget. Customers might like it. Pre-tenderized meat." He laughed cruelly.

Tears streamed down Rachel's cheeks as she scraped the food off of her face and into her mouth with her hand. The man only laughed again, shaking his head as he filled the boys' bowls before going on to the next cage.

So yeah...things really aren't going well for Rachel...:-/ Will she somehow manage to escape? What do her captors have in store for her next? Find out next week when the next chapter is posted;-) Thanks so much for reading and if you enjoyed, please don't forget to click the star. As always, any and all comments/critique are EXCEEDINGLY welcome and appreciated:-)