Prologue

It was that place where you were awake, but not quite fully, that she found herself in. Her eyes were still closed as she allowed her body to recognise the surrounding, but it didn't. She could remember going to sleep on a hard metal floor, she couldn't remember anything. Moving quicker than she'd probably ever done in her life she shot into a sitting position. It was dark where she was, she knew there was metal below her. Her hands grasped wood, netting, rope and more metal. Her heart stuttered. She needed to find a door, there must be a door, there was always a door she was...certain.

Scrambling to her knees she ignored the gaping hole in her memories and crawled across the floor. Her shoulders banged into more of what she assumed was crates until her fingers collided with another wall. Using it as her guidance she followed along it, clambering clumsily in the dark over the object scattered in her path until she met another wall. She continued to follow. Three metal walls down and her heart was nesting in her throat. This wall had to have a door. It just had to. There is always an exit, if you can get in then you can get out.

Splaying her hand out she felt along it, her muscles getting tauter and tauter until she hit another wall. Breath rushed out in a sudden hot wave of emotion. There was no door. There wasn't a damn door. Tears threatened but she bit her lip to tamper them. She wasn't going to lose it. There is always a way out. Maybe the ceiling wasn't a ceiling. She could remember something that opened from the top, boxes opened from the top but she didn't recall where she'd seen it or when.

Clinging to one of the wooden structures she pulled herself to standing warily in case the ceiling was closer than anticipated. There was nothing. Her free hand stretched upwards and still there was nothing, she clambered on to a box and reached further and her fingertips brushed against metal.

She was thrown to the floor as what she thought had been solid ground moved, the box tumbled with her scattering packages on and under her bruised body. There was red light and for a moment she thought it was blood, there were alarms and the grinding of metal against metal. Someone was screaming, it was her. Clamping her hands over her mouth she stared at the wall of her metal prison as it ascended at break neck speed. It was like a horror ride, but she couldn't recall ever being on one to make the comparison. Rides were thrills, thrill that didn't kill. The information came to her without reference.

Moving her hands to her ears she closed her eyes, curling in on herself as she chanted, rocking herself against the movement.

"Please let it be a ride. Please let it be a ride. I don't want to die. Please let it be a ride. Please."

The grinding grew more persistent until it was all she could hear and her hands clamped harder about her ear.

"I DON'T WANT TO DIE, PLEASE."

It stopped as suddenly as it had begun, but it was not silent. There were voices, muffled but she knew enough to recognise them. She needed to hide. The box that had spilled its content lent against another, there were enough room to slide between the gap and inside it so she did, her breath catching as she waited.

"Where's the Greenie?" She knew the box had opened when the voices became startlingly clear.

"Maybe they didn't send one."

"Don't be a klunk head, they always send one."

They were male, she could tell that much.

"Newt come help me find the shank." She couldn't understand all the words, in fact she was pretty certain klunk and shank weren't right and what was a Greenie?. But it was all forgotten with two thuds against the metal. They were in the box with her.

"Hey Alby, do you think…?"

"Maybe"

That was all the warning she got before the world got considerably brighter. Lashing out she caught someone leg so she pulled, attempting to scramble away as her eyes adjusted to the light.

"No you don't you little shank."

Arms banded around her torso but she didn't stop struggling, she wasn't going down without a fight. Snarling she writhed until the figure in front of her became clear. He was just a boy, a teenager. His skin was dark and his eyes cold as he glowered at her rubbing the back of his head. That's when she came back to her senses.

"Its alright lov-"

"Its a girl"

"I want her"

"Its alright love."

"A girl?"

"Its alright."

"I call dibs."

"Shush its alright."

She was crying.

"Get back to work you klunk heads, nobody calls dibs on no one you hear!"

She focused on the voice by her ear, letting her body go limp as she crumbled into her captor.

"Its alright."