The Tens Vanessa Jones (historical books to read TXT) 📖

spine, hit her as she felt them coming closer. They were planning to kill her.

Still on all fours, she scrambled away and found herself at the opening of the big shed. A light ringed the entrance, so she continued her awkward crawl towards it. The pain relief concoction had mostly worn off the top half of her body, she realised, as the palms of her hands retracted into themselves with every sharp rock underneath. Slowly pulling the door towards her, she was relieved to hear that it didn't squeak. Pushing a shoulder through, she lay her torso across the doorway, searching for whoever was inside. But it was empty of people.

Once inside, she combed the entire shed for any kind of vehicle or weapon, she would have even been grateful for a bicycle at that point. But what she saw inside, under the dull light of hurricane lamps, was just the rows and rows of amber jars, atop chocolate wood shelving and grated metal steps that housed even bigger jars, caramel coloured ceramic canisters, blue glass bottles and small wooden boxes and larger wooden crates filled with dried and fresh herbs. Interspersed throughout the containers were chunks of peacock green rocks. The burnt wreath and table had been removed since the dinner but the same smell waited. There were coils of copper wire stocked up behind a small canning machine and a kiln as well as a stripy bag filled with the horrible jumpers that everyone wore. More heaped piles of the same rocks were in almost every corner.

Sophie noticed more things that weren't obvious during the dinner party. Earth coloured pottery filled her eyeline and a handful of torso sized ceramic tanks were lined up like people. Each with a single symbol drawn on them in marker. And behind those tanks was a shelf as long as a car. It was hard to see, almost invisible against the shed wall, but Sophie spotted what the shelf was boasting: a row of books, all the same in their brown skins, pressed against one another. The same book that Sophie was drawn to in Carla's office. The same book that Abigail carried with her that she mistakenly thought was The Bible.

Stretching over the top of the tanks, Sophie slid one of the books off the shelf and into her hand, tucking it into the waistband of her pants. Now that feeling was beginning to slowly return to the lower half of her body, she felt the book's coolness press on her. The buzz it gave her washed away the fugue that she had been drowning in. Evidence, she thought as she tapped the book through her clothes.

'What are you doing?' A mouse whisper blew in behind her.

Sophie turned around to see Abigail looking at her, her eyes shiny and wide with concern.

'Oh Abigail… ' Sophie clasped Abigail's wrist and she angrily shook it free.

'You're not allowed to be in here.'

'Oh, aren't I?' Sophie feigned her dumbness.

'I'm going to get Clive.'

'No, Abigail, please don't do that. Please. Let's just talk a bit?' Sophie had no idea how she was going to get away from Abigail but she felt compelled to talk to her, connect with her. The way she reacted to the big fire told Sophie that Abigail wasn't really like the rest of them. Maybe she had been kept here against her will too.

'I'm already in so much trouble with the others.' As Abigail swung her face more into the light, Sophie noticed she was paler and her eyes had sunken, as if they were retreating from the horror that she saw.

'You shouldn't be in trouble Abigail! You've done nothing wrong. Can't you see that?'

'Oh, but I have! The rules of living here, under Venus, is that I must not disrespect the leader and I must do as they wish. Plus, I failed the trial.'

'When you ran away, they ended up burning me. But you weren't to know, Abigail.' Sophie threw in a little bit of guilt to knock Abigail's sensibilities about. The innocence of the young girl was almost unbearable to witness. It must be hell for her to live, especially in a camp that is governed by weird rules and rituals.

'Abigail, what did they want you to do to that baby?'

She pressed her lips together and inhaled, silent tears already dripping down her cheeks.

'You can tell me, Abigail. I'm not going to judge you. In fact, you're the only one here that I trust. I've wanted to be friends with you since the moment I met you.'

Abigail dipped her chin lower and nodded.

'Tell me.' Sophie slowly reached her outstretched palm out to land on Abigail's arm. This time she let it stay.

'They wanted me to...' She shook her head, looking at her feet, overcome with emotion. 'It's part of the heat initiation ritual, you see.'

'Did they want you to hurt the baby?'

'They wanted me to do what happened to you with the fire.'

Sophie couldn't help herself, she threw her hands to her mouth and stared at Abigail in horror.

Immediately defensive, she lifted her chin and sniffed her tears away. 'I wasn't going to do it! And anyway, just like you, it heals quickly.'

'Oh, Abigail. They should never have asked you to do that. That's abuse, can't you see that?'

'You don't understand. You don't know what it's all for. Even though you should.'

'What do you mean?'

'Nothing. Forget it. You haven't grown up here like I have.'

'Have you been in this camp since you were a kid?'

'Since I was born, yes.'

It was then that Sophie realised that Abigail was a lot younger than she had first noticed, which explained her fragility and the yearning that had been growing inside of Sophie to take care of her.

'Where are your parents?'

Abigail shrugged and said, 'People here are my parents. They are my family.'

Sophie felt a pang; they were both parentless daughters. 'Have you ever been outside the camp? Into the city?'

'A few times. Briefly. I didn't