Deep Redemption

The guards threw me into my cell. As my cheek slammed against the stone floor, I couldn’t contain my rage any longer. Using the residual adrenaline pulsing through me, I launched myself to my feet and let out five weeks’ worth of screams. I paced around the room in staggered steps, my legs stinging and throbbing as blood rushed to my muscles.

My gaze locked onto the wall of tallies. I counted them. “Thirty-five,” I growled, my voice now husky from overuse. I picked up my sharpened rock from the floor and slammed it against the stone wall, the sharp edge slicing into my palm. I let the rock fall to the ground.

I was back in this cell, left to rot, caged like an animal. Stepping back, I picked up the bloodied rock and, with shaky hands, brought it back to the wall. Starting a new tally, I scraped five new lines on the wall. “Forty . . . ”

I couldn’t stand anymore. I slumped to the floor, leaning against the wall. My torso and back were on fire in the aftermath of the beating.

The silence in the cell was deafening as I sat on the hard floor, the humid air clinging to my skin like glue. The crackling of the commune’s speakers preceded an announcement; Judah’s voice came bursting through the window of my cell.

“People of New Zion. Today’s Lord’s Sharing will commence in fifteen minutes.”

I froze. Ice trickled down my spine when I thought of what would happen in that hall. I felt sick as I remembered the only Lord’s Sharing I had seen. Grown men raping small girls, Judah lapping it up; Sarai, his willing consort, writhing by his side.

I closed my eyes and fought back another scream. The cell darkened as storm clouds closed in, smothering the blue sky. A fitting metaphor for what was happening to me inside. Light was being stubbed out, like a candle in a hurricane. I could feel the talons of bitterness sinking into my soul. The only other time I had felt this way was when I had infiltrated the Hangmen. Then, I had been disgusted by their sinful life, knowing my faith was the only path to salvation.

Now I was beginning to think that as impure as those men were, at least they had honor and pride. And I was damn sure they wouldn’t have raped children in the name of Hades or the club.

My hands shook. My chest was so tight I feared my muscles might snap. It amazed me how quickly I was spiraling into darkness. I could almost feel my torn heart turning black.

I closed my eyes and rested my head against the wall. I tried to will myself to sleep, just to get the hell away from this crushing reality, if only for a while. But my ears pricked up when I heard a sound coming from the cell beside mine. I frowned. I was alone in these cells, wasn’t I? No one but the guards had been here since I was imprisoned. The guards, and apparently the new people that were preparing food.

I listened harder. I didn’t hear anything at first. I thought I must have mistaken the sound of the guards for something else. But then I heard it again.

I pressed my ear to the stone. Small sniffing sounds drifted through the thick wall. I listened more closely, making sure it wasn’t the pain making me imagine things. But I heard it again, accompanied by a light cough.

My pulse beat faster. There was someone there. I shuffled forward, searching the wall. At the bottom of the cell, there was a small gap where some old cement had worn away. I lowered my chest to the ground, trying to see through. The gap was too small for me to see anything, but as I pressed my ear to it, I could hear the sounds more clearly.

Someone was crying.

Music sounded from outside, signaling the commencement of the Lord’s Sharing. I closed my eyes, trying to push away the images of what would be happening there. The crying through the wall seemed to grow louder.

“Hello?” I said, wincing as the word scraped at my raw throat. I swallowed in an attempt to wet my vocal chords. The crying stopped. Straining my ears, I caught the sound of shuffling.

“Hello?” I tried again. “Is someone there?” I became frustrated as my voice came out too weak and too quiet. I pushed myself closer to the wall, my chest pressing against the stone. I took a deep breath.

“Yes . . . someone is here.”

Excitement flooded my chest. The voice was barely a whisper, but whoever was in there had responded. I drew my head back, trying to see through the gap above the stone brick. I still couldn’t see anything. But I could feel their presence on the other side of the wall.

“Who are you?” I asked.

Several seconds passed in silence.

“My . . . my name is . . . Harmony.”

My muscles froze. The voice belonged to a woman. Harmony. Her name was Harmony.

“Harmony,” I whispered. My heart began to beat faster.

“What . . . what is your name?” Harmony asked. I closed my eyes both at the sound of her soft voice and at the question.

I breathed in and out, once, twice, three times. I didn’t know how to answer. I didn’t know who she was, why she was even in the cell. I couldn’t tell her my name. The prophet was named Cain. I didn’t want to be Cain. Nothing within me wanted to be associated with that name ever again. And I certainly wouldn’t name myself Judah.

“Your name?” Harmony asked again.

I didn’t think about my answer. It barely even registered that I had one until I found myself saying, “Rider . . . ” I took a deep breath. “My name is Rider.”

 

 

Chapter Four

 

Harmony

 

I swallowed and cast a worried look back to the door of my cell. Nerves racked my body. I wanted to keep my voice low so as not to draw the attention of the people outside. New Zion’s guards had checked in on me a few times, and each time I saw a certain lustful look in their eyes.

“Rider,” the deep voice replied. “My name is Rider.”

“Rider,” I repeated. My eyebrows drew together. “It . . . ” I said nervously. “That is not a name I know.”

Rider was silent for a while, then he said, “Then it fits . . . as I am not worth knowing. I am no longer a good man.” My stomach flipped at the obvious pain in his voice. I heard him take a strained, crackled inhale. “I think I was once, maybe, I don’t know . . . but I’m not sure who I am anymore . . . everything is so messed up.”

I drew my head back slightly, confused by his strange, cryptic words and his coarse use of language. But then a flicker of understanding hit me. “They have proclaimed you a sinner?”