by Abi Ketner and Missy Kalicicki
Release Date: 06/28/13
252 pages
Summary from Goodreads:
Fifty years ago the Commander came into power and murdered all who opposed him. In his warped mind, the seven deadly sins were the downfall of society. He created the Hole where sinners are branded according to their sins and might survive a few years. At best.
Now LUST wraps around my neck like blue fingers strangling me. I’ve been accused of a crime I didn’t commit and now the Hole is my new home.
Darkness. Death. Violence. Pain.
Now every day is a fight for survival. But I won’t die. I won’t let them win.
The Hole can’t keep me. The Hole can’t break me.
I am more than my brand. I’m a fighter.
My name is Lexi Hamilton, and this is my story.
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Teaser Picture:
Sneak Peek:
CHAPTER 1
I’m buried six
feet under, and no one hears my screams.
The rope chafes
as I loop it around my neck. I pull down, making sure the knot is
secure. It seems
sturdy enough. My legs shake. My heart beats heavy in my throat. Sweat
pours down my
back.
Death and I glare
at each other through my tears.
I take one last
look at the crystal chandelier, the foyer outlined with mirrors, and the
flawless
decorations. No photographs adorn the walls. No happy memories here.
I’m ready to go. On
the count of three.
I inhale,
preparing myself for the finality of it all. Dropping my hands, a glimmer
catches my eye.
It’s my ring, the last precious gift my father gave me. I twist it around to
read the inscription.
Picturing his face forces me to reconsider my choice. He’d be
heartbroken if he
could see me now.
A door slams in
the hallway, almost causing me to lose my balance. My thoughts
already muddled,
I stand waiting with the rope hanging around my neck. Voices I don’t
recognize creep
through the walls.
Curiosity
overshadows my current thoughts. It’s late at night, and this is a secure
building in High
Society. No one disturbs the peace here—ever. I tug on the noose and
pull it back over
my head.
Peering through
the eyehole in our doorway, I see a large group of armed guards
banging on my
neighbors’ door. A heated conversation ensues, and my neighbors point
toward my
family’s home.
It hits me. I’ve
been accused and they’re here to arrest me.
My father would
want me to run, and in that split second, I decide to listen to his
voice within me.
Flinging myself forward in fear, I scramble up the marble staircase and
into my brother’s
old bedroom. The door is partially covered, but it exists. Pushing his
dresser aside, my
fingers claw at the opening. Breathing hard, I lodge myself against it.
Nothing. I step
back and kick it with all my strength. The wood splinters open, and my
foot gets caught.
I wrench it backward, scraping my calf, but adrenaline pushes me
forward. The
voices at the front door shout my name.
On hands and
knees, I squeeze through the jagged opening. My brother left through
this passage, and
now it’s my escape too. Cobwebs entangle my face, hands, and hair. At
the end, I feel
for the knob, twisting it clockwise. It swings open, creaking from disuse. I
sprint into the
hallway and smash through the large fire escape doors at the end. A burst
of cool air
strikes me in the face as I jump down the ladder.
Reaching the
fifth floor, I knock on a friend’s window. The lights flicker on, and I
see the curtains
move, but no one answers. I bang on the window harder.
“Let me in!
Please!” I say, but the lights darken. They know I’ve been accused and
refuse to help
me. Fear and adrenaline rush through my veins as I keep running, knocking
on more windows
along the way. No one has mercy. They all know what happens to
sinners.
Another flight of
stairs passes in a blur when I hear the guards’ heavy footfalls from
above. I can’t
hide, but I don’t want to go without trying.
Help me, Daddy. I
need your strength now.
My previous
desolation evolves into a will to survive. I have to keep running, but I
tremble and gasp
for air. I steel my nerves and force my body to keep moving. In a matter
of minutes, my
legs cramp and my chest burns. I plunge to the ground, scraping my knee
and elbow. A moan
escapes from my chest.
Gotta keep going.
“Stop!” Their
voices bounce off the buildings. “Lexi Hamilton, surrender yourself,”
they command.
They’re gaining on me.
I resist the urge
to glance back, running into what I assume is an alley. I’m far from
our high-rise in
High Society as I plunge into a poorer section of the city where the
streets all look
the same and the darkness prevents me from recognizing anything. I’m
lost.
My first instinct
is to leap into a dumpster, but I retain enough sense to stay still. I
crouch and peek
around it, watching them dash by. The abhorrent smell leaves me
vomiting until
nothing remains in my stomach. Desperation overtakes me, as I know my
retching was
anything but silent. My last few seconds tick away before they find me.
Everyone knows
about their special means of tracking sinners.
I push myself to
my feet and look left, right, and left again. Their batons click against
their black
leather belts, and their boots stomp the cement on both sides of me. I shrink
into myself.
Their heavy steps mock my fear, growing closer and closer until I know I’m
trapped.
Never did I
imagine they’d come for me. Never did I imagine all those nights I heard
them dragging
someone else away that I’d join them.
“You’re a
sinner,” they say. “Time to leave.”
I stand defiant.
I refuse to bend or break before them, even as I shiver with fear.
“There’s no
reason to make this difficult. The more you cooperate, the smoother this
will be for
everyone,” a guard says.
I cringe into the
blackness along the wall. I’m innocent, but they won’t believe me or
care.
The next instant,
my face slams into the pavement as one guard plants a knee in my
back and another
handcuffs me. A warm liquid trails into my mouth. Blood. Their fingers
grip my arms like
steel traps as they peel me off the cement. The tops of my shoes scrape
along the ground
as I’m dragged behind them until they discard me into the back of a
black vehicle.
The doors slam in unison with one guard stationed on each side of me, my
shoulders digging
into their arms.
Swallowing hard,
I stare ahead to avoid their eyes. My dignity is all I have left. The
handcuffs dig
into my wrists, so I clasp them together hard behind me and press my back
into the seat,
unwilling to admit how much it hurts.
Did they need so
many guards to capture me?
I’m not carrying
any weapons, nor do I own any. I don’t even know self-defense.
High Society
frowns on activities like that.
The driver jerks
the vehicle around and I try to keep my bearings, but it’s dark and
the scenery
changes too fast. Hours pass, and the air grows warmer, more humid the
farther we drive.
The landscape mutates from city to rolling hills. They don’t bother
blindfolding me
because they escort all the sinners to the same place—the Hole. Twentyfoot
cement walls
encase the chaos within. There’s no way out and no way in unless they
transport you.
They say the Hole is a prison with no rules. We learned about it last year in
twelfth grade.
To the outside,
I’m filth now. I’ll never be allowed to return to the life I knew. No
one ever does.
“All sinners go
through a transformation,” one of the guards says to me. His smirk
infuriates me.
“I’m sure you’ve heard all kinds of stories.” I don’t respond. I don’t want
to think about
the things I’ve been told.
“You won’t last
too long, though. Young girls like you get eaten alive.” He pulls a
strand of my hair
up to his face.
Get your hands
off me, you pig. I want to lash out, but resist. The punishment for
disobeying
authority is severe, and I’m not positioned to defy him.
They’re the
Guards of the Commander. They’re chosen from a young age and
trained in
combat. They keep the order of society by using violent methods of
intimidation. No
one befriends a guard. Relationships with them are forbidden inside the
Hole.
Few have seen the
commander. His identity stays under lock and key. His own
paranoia and
desire to stay pure drove him to live this way. He controls our depraved
society and
believes sinners make the human race unforgivable. His power is a crushing
fist, rendering
all beneath him helpless. So much so, even family members turn on each
other when an
accusation surfaces. Just an accusation. No trial, no evidence, nothing but
an accusation.
I lose myself in
thoughts of my father.
“Never show fear,
Lexi,” my father said to me before he was taken. “They’ll use it
against you.” His
compassionate eyes filled with warning as he commanded me to be
strong. That was
many years ago, but I remember it clearly. My father. My rock. The one
person in my life
who provided unconditional love.
“Get out,” the
guard says while pulling me to my feet. The vehicle stops, and I’m
jerked back to
reality. The doors slide open and the two guards lift me up and out into the
night. A
windowless cement building looms in front of us, looking barren in the
darkness.
The coolness of
the air sends a shiver up my spine. This is really happening. I’ve
been labeled a
sinner. My lip starts to quiver, but I bite it before anyone sees. They shove
me in line, and I
realize I’m not alone. Women and men stand with faces frozen white
with fear. A
guard grabs my finger, pricks it, and dabs my blood on a tiny microchip.
I follow the man
in front of me into the next room where we’re lined up facing the
wall. Glancing
right, I see one of the men crying.
“Spread your
legs,” one of the guards says.
They remove my
outer layers and their hands roam up and down my body.
What do they
think I can possibly be hiding? I press my head into the wall, trying to
block out what
they’re doing to me.
“MOVE!” a guard
commands. So I shuffle across the room, trying to cover up.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five of us sit in
the holding room. One by one, they pull people into the next room,
forcing the rest
of us to wonder what torture we’ll endure. An agonizing amount of time
passes. I lean my
head back and try to imagine a place far away. The door opens.
“Lexi Hamilton.”
A guard escorts
me out of the room, and I don’t have time to look back. As soon as
the door closes,
they pick me up and place me on a table. It’s cold and my skin sticks to it
slightly, like
wet fingers on an ice cube. Then they exit in procession, and I lie on the
table with a
doctor standing over me. His hands are busy as he speaks.
“Don’t move. This
will only take a few minutes. It’s time for you to be branded.”
A wet cloth that
smells like rubbing alcohol is used to clean my skin. Then he places
a metal collar
around my neck.
Click. Click.
Click.
The collar locks
into place, and I struggle to breathe. The doctor loosens it some as I
focus on the
painted black words above me.
The Seven Deadly
Sins:
Lust ⎯ Blue
Gluttony ⎯ Orange
Greed ⎯ Yellow
Sloth ⎯ Black
Wrath ⎯ Red
Envy ⎯ Green
Pride ⎯ Purple
“Memorize it.
Might keep you alive longer if you know who to stay away from.” He
opens my mouth,
placing a bit inside. “Bite this.”
Within seconds,
the collar heats from hot to scorching. The smell of flesh sizzling
makes my head
spin. I bite down so hard a tooth cracks.
“GRRRRRRRRR,”
escapes from deep within my chest. Just when I’m about to pass
out, the
temperature drops, and the doctor loosens the collar.
He removes it and
sits me up. Excruciating pain rips through me, and I’m on the
verge of a mental
and physical breakdown. Focus. Don’t pass out.
Stainless steel
counters and boring white walls press in on me. A guard laughs at me
from an
observation room above and yells, “Blue. It’s a great color for a pretty young
thing like
yourself.” His eyes dance with suggestion. The others meander around like it’s
business as
usual.
I finally find my
voice and turn to the doctor.
“Are you going to
give me clothes?” A burning pain spreads like fire up from my
neck to my jaw,
making me wince.
He points to a
set of folded grey scrubs on a chair. I cover myself as much as I can
and scurry
sideways. Grabbing my clothes and pulling the shirt over my head, I try to
avoid the raw
meat around my throat. I quickly knot the cord of my pants around my
waist and slide
my feet into the hospital-issue slippers as the doctor observes. He hands
me a bag labeled
with my name.
“Nothing is
allowed through the door but what we’ve given you,” he says.
I hide my right
hand behind me, hoping no one notices. A guard scans my body and
opens his hand.
“Give it to me,”
he says. “Don’t make me rip off your finger.” He crouches down
and I turn to
stone. I don’t know what to do, so I beg.
“My father gave
this to me. Please, let me keep it.” I smash my eyes shut and think
of the moment my
father handed the golden ring to me.
“It was my
mother’s ring,” he’d said. “She’s the strongest woman I ever knew.”
With tears in his
eyes, he reached for my hand and said, “Lexi, you’re exactly like her.
She’d want you to
wear this. No matter how this world changes, you can survive.” I
turned the gold
band over in my palm and read the engraving.
You
can
overcome
anything…
short
of
death.
“You’re going to
take the one thing that matters the most to me?” I say, glaring into
the guard’s
emotionless eyes. “Isn’t it enough taking my life, dignity, and respect?”
A hard blow falls
upon my back. As I fall, my hands shoot out to stop me from
smashing into the
wall in front of me. The guard bends down and grabs my chin with his
meaty fist.
“Look at me,” he
commands.
I look up and he
smiles with arrogance.
“What the hell?”
He staggers a step backward. “What’s wrong with you? What’s
wrong with your
eyes?”
“Nothing,” I
respond, confused.
“What color are
they?”
“Turquoise.” I
glower at him.
“Interesting,” he
says, regaining his composure. “Now those’ll get you in trouble.”
Reality slaps me
across the face. I have my father’s eyes. They can't take them from
me. I twist the
ring off my finger and drop it in his hand.
“Take the damn
ring,” I say. I walk to the door. He swipes a card and the massive
door slides open
to the outside.
“You have to wear
your hair back at all times, so everyone knows what you are.” He
hands me a tie,
so I pull my frizzy hair away from my face and secure it into a ponytail.
My neck burns and
itches as my hand traces the scabs that have already begun to form.
Squinting ahead
in the darkness, I almost run into a guard standing on the sidewalk.
“Watch where
you’re going,” he says, shoving me backward. His stiff figure stands
tall and I cringe
at the sharpness of his voice.
“Cole, this is
your new assignment, Lexi Hamilton. See to it she feels welcome in
her new home.”
The guard departs with a salute.
“Let’s move,”
Cole says.
I take two steps
and collapse, my knees giving out. The unforgiving pavement
reopens the
scrapes from earlier and I struggle to stand. A powerful arm snatches me up,
and I see his
face for the first time.
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About the Authors
Abi and Missy met in the summer
of 1999 at college orientation and have been best friends ever since. After
college, they added jobs, husbands and kids to their lives, but they still
found time for their friendship. Instead of hanging out on weekends, they went
to dinner once a month and reviewed books. What started out as an enjoyable
hobby has now become an incredible adventure.
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