Page 5 of Knot All Is Ruined: Part 1

While I might be stubborn, smart-mouthed, and confrontational, I wasn’t stupid. Dropping to my knees, I locked the thick metal cuffs in place. The chain was about two feet long so even if I jumped out, I would just be dragged along the side of the vehicle. The method was crude but effective. Tori was tossed in next with Violet right behind her. Clearly, I was the one they were worried about since those two didn’t question the order to lock themselves in this truck.

The other guard handed us all bandanas. “You’re gonna want those, the road can get real dusty back here. With all the fighting and weapons that have been used over the years, you never know what might be in the ground. Wouldn’t want you breeders getting sick on us before we have the chance to get you pregnant.”

I wanted to scream and yell at them for being so vile and degrading. Didn’t they know Omegas can only get pregnant when they are in heat? That happens once, sometimes twice a year. What the hell kind of excuse did they use to justify every other time they felt the need to make another soldier?

Oh god, don’t tell me they might have the drug that Oscad created years ago, which the EQ contaminated, killing all those Omegas. That was the only thing I’d ever heard of that increased the chances of the baby being an Omega and increased the number of heats in a year.

With that cheerful thought, the truck rumbled to life and took off out of the city.

Chapter three

When they said the drive would be long, they hadn’t been kidding. We’d left when the sun was still low on the horizon, and now it was blazing above us. Thankfully, with the speed we were going there was a steady flow of air buffeting us as we went. Each of us needed the bandanas over our faces when we got out into the dry, empty plains of Asturg.

It made me wonder what this place would look like if it rained enough and could bring it back to life. I imagined that instead of all this dead brown scrubby undergrowth, it would be fields of wheat or just green grass. The trees would be bigger and fuller with leaves instead of these weak, spindly branches that looked like they were clawing the sky for a drink.

What came first—the hardened people turning the land to ruin, or was it the land giving up so the people did? Suppose I’ll never know; why would anyone tell a breeder?

When the truck slowed, I sat up looking around but saw nothing that would give a reason for them to stop. The guard in the passenger seat got out with a gallon jug of water that he carried to Tori.

“Drink what you can. Don’t spill, it’s not my fault if you shrivel up and die back here,” he muttered.

Even with his harsh words, he tipped the jug just enough for Tori to get a nice long drink. He did the same for Violet, and then walked over to me. Instantly I could tell his demeanor changed as he gave me a wary look like I, of all people, was going to do a damn thing to hurt him.

“Not sure if it’s worth giving you water if you’re gonna be given to Lucian. General turned him into the meanest bastard he could after his firstborn turned traitor,” the guard shared. Not that his words held much meaning to me other than it didn’t sound like being given to Lucian was a good thing. “Here, drink up, and tell that fucker we took care of you, you hear?”

Nodding, I tilted my head back, and he poured water into my mouth. He did it at a much faster rate. I couldn't swallow fast enough and started to choke which led to me coughing, spilling the water all over me.

“Stupid bitch, you’re gonna need to learn to swallow better than that when Lucian shoots his load down your throat. Doubt he’ll appreciate you spitting it all over him or yourself,” he sneered, then put the cap on the jug and got back in the truck slamming the door.

Seconds later, the truck started to fishtail as they floored it. Dust, gravel, and grit shot into the air and clung to my damp face and shirt. Spitting over the side of the truck, I used the bandana to wipe off my face, but nothing was to be done about the now grimy shirt. This fucking day just got better and better as it went. Securing the cloth over my face, I tried to get as comfortable as possible, although we seemed to have veered off the paved road to a well-worn dirt track which was not at all smooth.

Never did I think I would be thankful for being chained to the back of a truck, but it was the only comfort I had that I wouldn't be bucked out of the damn thing. My ass hurt from slamming into the metal side wall and truck bed. Pretty sure there was no feeling left in either of my elbows from them being bashed into things and that I would have bruises everywhere. If I thought the grimy shirt was going to make me look bad, I’m pretty sure looking like a black and blue, battered woman was even worse. Let’s not even talk about the state my hair was in. Curly hair and wind don’t mix at all, and it probably looked like a rat or something lived in it. Then again, if I looked ugly as sin, then the chances of them wanting to use me might not be as big of a worry. Hell, I'll take whatever small blessings I can whenever I can.

The vehicle slowed a second time as the sun was about halfway on its journey down. When I looked, there was a guard station set before a barbed wire fence surrounding what looked like a tiny town. At least that’s what I could see from here, even though we were still a mile out.

“Transport from the capitol. General sent you some breeders. Two for the breeder house and one he picked out for Commander Lucian,” our driver explained to one guard at the gate.

Like the barbed wire fence, the gate didn’t seem like it was all that much of a deterrent. There had to be something else about it that made it worth the effort of putting up. I got my answer when one guard used a rubber-tipped tool to unhook the latch to the gate and saw the sparks of electricity arcing through the air. My guess is it was strong enough to stop a heart and kill someone who touched it.

“Commander Lucian is out on a mission, not sure when he’ll be back. Make sure to tell the breeding house which one is his, and they’ll mark her so no one else touches her,” the guard instructed as the other pushed the gate open with the tool.

Our driver gave him a brusque nod and headed through the opening. He drove much slower now as we headed for the shabby town with cobbled streets that desperately needed repair. There was a bar where many of the men were drinking beer out of glass bottles and music poured out of the open door. Many of them smoked too, as they leaned against the metal fencing around the patio space.

One of them caught sight of us, and a grin spread across his face. “Hej, máme čerstvú krv.”

Whatever he said had all the other men turning to look at us with feral looks of hunger. How had I forgotten that many Asturgians spoke two different languages? There was the native language that the Northern people used as well as the common universal language adopted in all countries for business purposes. I’m sure these men will love the fact that we won’t be able to tell what they are saying when they use it.

Each of the wooden buildings had once been painted cheerful colors of orange, yellow, and a sort of teal color that’s long since faded. Besides the bar, there was a barber, a rations food store, an armory with supplies. Then the rest were barracks or that’s what I assumed they were since they didn’t have any markings on them but for building numbers, one through twenty, and were three stories high.

We, of course, were headed for the building at the end of the so-called town. It was also made of wood but instead of being painted in a bright color. It was a deep dark brown with white painted designs all over it. It was as if they used each row of wood like you would a line on paper. The designs were simple geometric shapes but putting them all together actually made it look quite beautiful.

Were all breeding houses painted like this?

As we pulled up outside the house, an elderly woman stepped out. She appeared as if she might be a hundred years old with wrinkles that had wrinkles. Her gray hair was covered by a scarf wrapped around her head and the dress she wore was simple in a dark blue that showed clear signs of being repaired multiple times with various colors of dark thread.

“Ahoj babka,” one of our guards greeted as he got out of the truck. “We have new girls for you.”

“Jes, I see that,” she answered in a raspy voice with a heavy accent. “Oscad?”