Prologue
Past
One, two… and once again, the damn drop hits the filthy floor.
I’ve learned not to scream when something pisses me off.
It’s hard, because there’s a lot of rage inside me.
I used to fight everyone, until the day Martin, the boy who became my only friend, told me that anger is weakness.
At the time, I wanted to throw hands just to prove to him which one of us was really weak. He laughed and refused to fight when I raised my fists, ready to kick and punch.
Then he explained why showing anger makes you weak: people find the exact spot that hurts, an open wound, and they’ll press it just to make it worse.
Martin is four years older than me, and I still don’t know why he wanted to be my friend. Maybe because he’s just as weird as I am.
I squeeze my eyes shut inside the cage, trying to ignore the dripping sound that’s been falling nonstop ever since theybrought me here, days ago. The noise is driving me crazy, but I keep repeating what my friend taught me in my head.
“Anger is weakness.”
Will I ever see Martin again?
Yeah, I will. He’s my family.
Him, Jackie, and their parents.
I’m not weak, and I’ve got a plan to get out of here. But I’ll need help from Sean, the boy in the cage next to mine. He told me he’s thirteen.
I already explained to him what we need to do. There are three of us trapped here, but I think there used to be more boys. I counted eight cages in total.
“Are you ready?” I ask Sean.
He nods and glances at the boy beside him. We have to be quick. Once I get the keys off that bastard’s pants, I’ll pass them to Sean and he’ll unlock the three of us.
The man who brings us food and water and treats us like dogs has this weird look in his eyes.
He walks between the cages and once saidit was a shame we had to be sold “whole.”
I didn’t really understand how you could sell a person, but it doesn’t matter. They’re not gonna do anything to me. They won’t sell me like I’m some loaf of bread or carton of eggs, because I’m getting out of here.
“Yeah, I’m ready. We only get one shot, Lucifer. If you can’t grab his neck tight enough, he’ll kill us.”
“I’ll grab it.”
I’m only eleven, but I’ve fought a lot in my life—even adults. I don’t think Sean has any idea how much rage I’ve got inside me.
Just like we knew it would happen, the man we’re waiting for walks into the basement.
At least, Ithinkit’s a basement—there are no windows, and it’s dark.
I look over and Sean gives me the signal. It’s time.
The man crouches. He always comes to my cage first.
I see Sean’s lips move silently as he counts: 3, 2, 1…
It doesn’t even take a second. I shoot my skinny arm through the bars and hook my hand around the thick chain the bastard wears around his neck. I feel the metal against my fingers and, for a second, I panic, afraid I won’t be able to grip it right because of the grease on his sweaty skin.
