Chapter 1: The Chopping Block

July 13, 2072

Charon

The sun was beating down like a blanket of heat, reminding me of my predicament. Reminding me that I was a slave. An "employee" as they liked to call it. I was standing in line with other kids of my age. They were just teenagers. Kids. How had they ended up in this situation? How could people own another person? The line started at a raised platform where they would be auctioned off.

The first person up was a lanky blonde girl, who was currently being eyed like a piece of meat by the sleazy men in the crowd. It was disgusting, but it happened to all the girls in this business. I wouldn't be able to do anything. All I could do was wait for my turn to be put on a pedestal as people guessed how much my mind, body, and soul was worth. I was third in line. It was only a matter of time.

"Sold, for $400 to the gentleman in the back", the auctioneer bellowed. The girl was trying so desperately not to show how much she was dying on the inside. It was heart-wrenching. She was always nice to me. I didn't even know her name. She didn't deserve this.

She locked her grass-green eyes with me and for the first time in a long time, I felt someone else's pain. It was an unusual pain. One that was cold and dull, not the hot, sharp pain you feel when you get a burn. Almost like when you wake up and find out you've been hit by a truck. Trust me, it doesn't feel great. My whole body was numb for the two seconds we held eye contact and I couldn't handle it anymore. I looked away and it felt like it would've hurt less had I slapped her.

The next kid on the platform was short, dark-haired, and dark-skinned but looked like he could handle his own weight. He didn't deserve this either but at least he might stand a chance. Not like the girl. I think I remember his name. Noah, if I remember correctly. He held a straight face and held his head high. I didn't know much about this kid, but I remember his pride getting in the way of following orders. He was a rebel and as much as I longed to be like him, I wouldn't be able stand the beatings like Noah had. While lost in my own thoughts, the boy was sold for $350.

The boys were usually cheaper because they were put to work. The girls, unfortunately, were almost always sold at a higher price for much more sinister reasons. Typically, they were mistresses or wives. I've heard horror stories about their time in their "employment". Most girls didn't last more than 3 months before they were pregnant and some were even chained in basements and only saw light when the cellar door opened. The light only led to more pain and suffering and the cold feeling of emptiness. If they were lucky, they died within several months of malnutrition. These girls were utterly doomed.

"Next! Didn't you fucking hear me?" was all I heard before I felt a sharp pain at the back of my head as I was struck. I slowly trudged up the steps to the platform and stood. What could I do? I felt so awkward as men and women alike measured me up and down. In that moment, I wondered how my mother would feel if she could see me from here. A hopeless, pathetic, disgrace of a human being. Had she known this would happen? Had she given me up willingly? Was she someone I already knew from the camp but I hadn't had the privilege of knowing she made me? I'll never know who she is.

"Name, kid?" asked the auctioneer.

I looked at him sidelong and sighed heavily. "Nick McKinnley" I replied with reluctance.

"Height, weight, and age." He said. It wasn't a question. This time was easier to talk.

"6 feet and 2 inches. 206 pounds. 16." Never had I realized how big I was for my age until now. I was always working with the other boys and at some point, I wasn't soft anymore. Years of military level training at a young age can do that to a person. I was trained to be a soldier and a weapon. It barely registered when I heard "$450 to the man up front." There was my fate. The number that sealed the deal.

I looked up in time to see a man in a nice suit staring at me with a crooked grin. His hair was a mess of black curls and he didn't have any visible scars or remarkable facial features besides a strong jaw and nose. I couldn't tell what color his eyes were from this distance but from here, he looked like he was sizing me up. I was pointed to the opposite side of the stage where the kids that had been sold stood until the reaping of young lives was over.

The girl from earlier was holding her arms across her chest and making a point of staring at the ground. I desperately wanted to say something or do anything that would make her feel better. Anything besides "Sorry you're probably going to be shackled and raped for months." All I could muster was something that sounded inadequate even in my own ears. "Don't let him break you." I didn't expect her to be able to hear anything in her state of mind and I definitely didn't expect her to look me in the face and whisper "he already has." I'll never forget those three words. So much hatred and damnation that would make even God flinch.

The boy on the other hand wasn't letting the situation get to him. He bit his lip and offered his condolences to the girl. Noah will always be remembered in my mind as the boy who had nothing and still managed to give everything he had.

The group of kids around me grew as more were sold like toys at the store. They were mostly silent. Girls were holding back tears and boys were trying to keep their composure as to not let any sign of weakness slip. "The second you are perceived as weak, you already are" rang a bell. As if just thinking about the word "bell" could materialize into reality, the bell rang signaling the end of the auction of human beings. The people who spent money on a life walked up to receive their big bundles of joy.

The man from the crowd waltzed up with my contract in hand and shook mine with the other hand. "Hello there, Nick, nice to meet you. My name is David Ripley, your new employer, but please call me Mr. Ripley. I got that other boy over there, too. Would you kindly tell me what his name is, I didn't quite catch it before."

I looked over in the direction Mr. Ripley pointed to and felt like I had been hit in the gut. My mouth was dry as I tried to speak. I hadn't even known he was in line. "That would be... Joel, sir. He's my little brother." Mr. Ripley gave a look of mocking astonishment. That bastard fucking knew. We look just alike. "We don't share a last name, sir." Mr. Ripley looked bored as he slowly drew out the second contract.

"I know you don't," he said through a loose grin. "Get him over here and meet me at that car over there with the bumper sticker of an alien in fifteen minutes. Say your goodbyes and pack your shit." He turned and sauntered over to the girl who was first to the platform and gave her a sick smile. I looked at the direction he pointed to and sure enough, there was a red car with a sticker of an alien's head, green with big, black eyes. I was fuming but I had to tell Joel to get his things and tell his friends goodbye for the last time.

"Hey, you got a minute?" I asked him.

Joel looked up from the ground and asked "You too, huh?"

"Yeah... We have fifteen minutes to get our things and say bye." Joel looked at me like I was joking.

"Fifteen minutes for goodbyes and packing? I already had my stuff packed this morning, but I can't even say enough farewells in fifteen minutes."

"You need to cut the act. Tough shit. You have to learn to take orders and keep your fucking mouth shut. You got it?"

He looked at me through squinted eyes. Whether it was from the sunlight or from anger, I didn't care. Joel had a problem with authority but he had to get used to it. "Fine," he muttered through clenched teeth.

"Alright, meet me at that car with the alien sticker on the back in fifteen minutes."

He looked in the direction I was pointing to and scoffed. "You got to be fucking kidding me, an alien sticker?"

"Watch your damn mouth, you're 13." I scolded as he turned.

He stopped and looked over his shoulder. "I can say whatever the fuck I want, it's my mouth."

I grabbed his arm and he tried to shake it off but gave up. "Stop that right now. You need to understand the severity of this situation. We don't know who this asshole is or what he wants but that hole in your face you call a mouth is no longer yours. It's his. He bought us. Think about that for a second. We were bought and now he owns us and there's nothing we can do about it now. I'm telling you to stop because I don't want you to find out firsthand what happens when you mouth off to a man who owns you. I only ask one thing, Joel. Please follow orders and do what your contract tells you."

He looked at me and I could see him slowly understanding the whole of the situation. It was scary seeing it through your own eyes, but it's worse seeing it through the eyes of someone you care about and you know you can't do a damn thing to help it. "Okay" was all he said.

"Now go say bye and get your stuff. We have twelve minutes now. Don't do anything stupid." He nodded and turned around again and walked off.

I headed to my bunk and grabbed my things. I made sure to hide the "adult magazine" I had "found" at the bottom of my bag under what little clothing I owned. I got my worn deck of cards from under my pillow, tossed them in my bag, and zipped it up.

Without looking back, I headed out the door. I didn't have many people to say goodbye to. I mostly kept to myself. I said goodbye to the woman who fed us and the few kids I talked to during training and the ones I played cards with from time to time.

I reached the car in time to see Joel heading towards me with his bag half zipped and his head hanging down. This was hard for him, I could tell. He reached the car and touched the alien sticker. "Asshole" he said, barely a whisper. Mr. Ripley was walking quickly towards the driver's side door. I had never been in a car before. They had always kind of scared me.

"Ready to go boys? I sure am." It was a rhetorical question.

Joel and I exchanged glances and said "Yes, sir," almost mechanically.

"Get in, boys. We're going home."

I opened the door and sat in the passenger's seat. Joel sat in the back.

Mr. Ripley started the car and my freckled face became pale. He pulled out onto the road and I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. Mr. Ripley looked at me and laughed. "Never been in a car before, boys?"

I swallowed before speaking "No, sir."

His mouth grew into a wicked smile. "Well buckle up, boy. What will you do if we get into an accident?" That bastard knew what he was doing.

The images blurring by in the window made me sick to my stomach. Mr. Ripley kept looking back in the mirror to look at Joel.

It was a long drive before we pulled up into the driveway of a big house. It was white, two stories, and had columns in the front with a large garden in the courtyard. It was strange to see a courtyard in the front. They were usually in the back. Joel and I stared in awe in the glory of such a nice house.

"Well, boys, if you like the outside, wait 'til you see the inside. Oh, and by the way," he said without any real motivation, "welcome home."