Chapter 1

“The Light shines in the darkness and the darkness could not overcome it.”

Jasper

Clink. The scorching sun blazed down on my brown skin. Arching my fatigued and bruised back in motion, I swung the pickaxe hard against the rock. Clink. My long, black dreadlocks offered no protection from the sun, even after being drenched in my sweat. Man, it’s way too hot to be out here. If the quota wasn’t met by midnight, there would be consequences and not the fun kind. Clink. I took the last swing, as the pickaxe fell from my hands, and I wiped the sweat from my brow.

“Hey, Number 0043, get back to work!” a guard shouted as I stretched my shoulders.

“I’m more than a mere number. (There were no names here: just numbers)”

“Hey, did you hear me? I said, get back to work!”  He cracked his whip. This place does not get to define who I am. I refuse to let it.

“My name is Jasper,” I mutter under my breath.

A hand connected with my cheekbone; an echo reverberated across the courtyard. I staggered back from the pain of the guard’s punch; all eyes turned toward our position.

“Listen here, you mutt, you are nothing more than livestock that just hasn’t stopped breathing yet. That’s all you are, that’s all you will ever be, but since you can’t seem to get that through your thick skull, imma have to beat it in to yuh,” He says as he grabs a fistful of my tunic and lifts me a few centimeters off the ground.

“Bruce! That’s enough, he’s not worth it.”

“Aww, come on Commander, he was talking back, let me knock some sense intuh him.”

“I said, that’s enough.” The powerful cold glare in the Commander’s eyes was enough to stop time itself. Commander Kira is a beautiful woman who is built like an Amazonian, based on myths of the old. She rose to prominence in power as a young soldier when she joined the ranks of the slave trade. Now she was the defector leader. Bruce slowly allowed my tunic to slip through his fingers and walked away as he grumbled something inaudible.

“Why are you still gawking there, slave? Get back to work.” The commander did a bow face and headed in the direction of her personal quarters. Yeah, no way I’m staying here any longer. I need to get out. I pick up the pickaxe and take an overarching swing. The sound of metal hitting rock vibrates through my skull as I numbly work the day away.

Later that evening, the guards chained us up together as they led us back into our cells. They call this place the Dungeon, and to be honest, it fits. The area itself was so poorly lit that your eyes were strained just to see the next step in front of you. The stench of dead bodies and feces fills the air, and it takes all your strength not to lose your single meal for the entire day. This is a place no one should be. Nothing good can ever be found here. The door to my cell creaks open, and I’m shoved hard onto the floor. I sit down on the dank, wet, dirt floor as I recite the escape plan in my head.

“There you are, you little Mutt.” Without a shadow of a doubt, I know who it is.

“What do you want, Bruce?”

“Oh, nothing much, I’m a simple man, you see. I still owe you that beating from earlier, and since the Commander ain’t around to watch, you’re all mine,” he replies with a wicked grin. I lift my head and see that Bruce is armed with a club. This is gonna hurt. “Hey, you, watch the hallways for me. Make sure no one comes down here.” The corners of my mouth twitch snarkily. He took the bait. Bruce turns the key and enters my cell.

“Mr. Guard, Sir, please don’t beat me up, please, I don’t think my frail body can handle it!” I say almost hysterically as I cling to Bruce’s torso. There gotcha.

“Back off, you mangy mutt, and take your beating like a man!” He kicks my stomach, and with a loud thud, I’m reeling on the floor.

“Whack!”

“Whack!”

“Crack!”

The sting of Bruce’s club rings throughout my entire body. “Ahck,” I cough, as the sight of blood splatters on the ground.

“That’ll teach you to stay in line, you mutt, remember this pain next time you try to be smart,” Bruce exclaimed.

“Ha! Yeah, that’ll teach 'em,” the other guard echoes

As they turn to walk away from my cell, I wince from the ribs I was sure were broken and the deep bruises up and down my torso. I gently ease up on the wall to position myself and grin. Those petulant fools, the thought never once crossed their mind that I was toying with them. I jingled the cell keys in my hand as I leaned back and sighed. I got up on my feet and put the key in the tumbler, and opened the cell door. As I opened the cell door, a faint shred of hope began to bubble up. Immediately, I pushed it down as I took that first step out of my cell.

The dark, torch-lit hallways bring back a sense of nightmarish nostalgia from being made to work from dawn until dusk every single day without breaks or food, until slowly your will is gone. The stench of despair fills the hallway as I turn and look at the empty cells. My mind recalls the people who once occupied them, praying that their souls find rest. I take a right at the next juncture, and our eyes lock. I see a young girl no more than the age of 1,2 clutching her knees tightly as she leans on the wall. Right beside her, lying on her shoulder, is another child asleep. For the first time in a long time, I see in her eyes a twinkle of hope, misplaced hope, I thought. My eyes shift down to the ground as I walk past her cell.

“Please, sir,” a whisper barely audible, I stop, as a wave of guilt floods over me. These children should not be here. I walk up to their cell and turn the key,

“Come on, quickly, we need to move before the guards come back.”

“Hey Meesh,” the girl whispers, “Wake up, it's time to go.” The boy opens his eyes and slowly gets up.

“Come, this way,” I say. We quickly walk down the corridor as I bring back to mind the route I have been planning out for months. Right here, left there, keep straight. I knew this was the best time to escape because all the guards at the end of the day love to gorge on the abundant food they keep for themselves. As we snuck past the common area, my eyes were drawn to the light at the end of the corridor.

“Almost there,” I say, as we walk up the staircase and crack open the cellar door. The warmth of the sun welcomed me, along with the sting of the swirling sand around my feet. I bend down to close the door when I hear the guards,

“Hey, someone has escaped!”

Swiftly, I grab the children’s hands and we run down the alley until we are in the middle of a public square. Immediately, I am bombarded by the vendors yelling and bargaining with the customers. The smells of aromatic food coming from the food carts hit my nostrils. The myriad of colors woven into the fabric and linen hanging down from the stands drew my eyes' attention. I couldn’t believe it. After years of being in slavery, I was finally free.

“There they are!”

I grab the children and tuck them under my arms, wincing as I make a break for it and run. I ran and ran and ran, “Just keep running, just keep running,” I muttered under my breath, pretty sure I looked like some madman just coming off a hallucination. I don’t remember how long I was running, only that my one thought was to get away and hide. After what seemed like a few minutes, I heard a voice.

“Over here, come through here.” It was an older lady, short, with wispy silver hair braided to the side, as she waved me down over to her house. After a moment of hesitation, I ran over to her as she closed the door behind me. Seconds later, we heard the guards run past the house. At that moment, I breathed a breath of relief, and then everything went black.