I came back to life a little while we waited. We watched them pull everything that survived out of the wreck of our car. All the food and water we stole, it went straight to them. They even opened up the hood and ripped out some of the harder-to-replace parts of the engine.

  The group was very well equipped. Heavy body armor, professional rifles, pretty sure I remember a few grenades on their vests, although I could be wrong about that.

  Mara just watched silently, taking in every movement, planning on how she would kill each and every one of them. Memorizing which of them slighted her in some invisible way, and how she would draw out their deaths.

  Two people climbed in the front, and we were off, heading back the way we came. Nobody said a word, I was terrified and Mara was pissed. The other two cars flanked ours, each with a few people inside.

  We made it back out into the open desert and turned north. There’s a ravine running through the mountain, the walls only 100 feet apart. You pointed it out once, Little Blue, on our way to Vegas.

  “I remember.” I say.

  I’m sure you would. The cars went in there, following it deep into the heart of the mountain.

  It was an hour and a half drive before we found our destination. There was a pit, an old dry lakebed hidden in the mountains. People were shuffling along the bottom, carrying large rocks and buckets of water.

  A single staircase led upwards to a wood and metal walkway surrounding the lake. More people were leaning against the railing, watching those below, weapons close at hand. The cars got parked in a little alcove, safe from the more mild storms we had in those days.

  The drivers got out, took our stuff, and walked away, leaving us alone. A metal sheet got pulled over the entrance, plunging us into darkness.

  I don’t know how long we stayed there. I got thirsty, hungry, pretty sure I slept. We were forgotten, ignored, I yelled and Mara tried to break down the plastic separator. Rusty whined and I couldn't do anything.

  Mara never let me forget that this was my fault. I flipped the car. I failed to get away. I failed her. I failed my dog. I failed myself. That weighed heavy on me.

  When the cave finally opened, the light burned my eyes. I could barely see, just indistinct shadows moving through bright pain. The car doors opened, and we were pulled out. Rusty insisted he stand on his own, still on three legs, trying not to use the splinted one.

  They pulled us back out into the desert, marching us through the little town they made. There was one building larger than the rest. They shoved us through the front door.

  There were five people inside, an armed man standing in each corner of the room, and one in the center, behind a desk. He was an incredibly large man with cruel eyes.

  I don’t remember the entire conversation, in fact I prefer not to remember most of that town. He sat there and offered us what he called a reasonable deal. Work for food and water, as if he wasn’t the one who took everything we had. What I do remember crystal clear is that the bastard wanted to keep Rusty as some kind of sick trophy.

  I tried to say no, and that only got me a fist to my gut.

  “I can put your dog down if you’d rather, boy.” The man’s words made my blood run cold.

  We had to go along with it, what else were we supposed to do? We couldn’t fight five armed adults, not after still being injured from the crash. Plus, Rusty needed medical attention, attention I couldn’t give him, not where I was going.

  The two of us got dragged outside and tossed down the slope of the lake. It was like sandpaper. Pretty sure I left skin on that slope.

  Mara grabbed my hand, helped me up, and pulled me into a small crevice held open at the bottom. The mine was dark, lit up by the occasional lightbulb. You couldn’t see anything, and when you came across a light? It was blinding in comparison.

  We got these pitying looks from every last person we passed, but they didn’t say anything. There was another man, he showed us the ropes. The lake drained into an old mine, and the bottom levels were flooded.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  We haul up water? We were given a drink. We brought up ore? They gave us food. Although they were all about pitting us against each other. They had a bounty out, reported someone drinking the water down there, or daring to try and grow food? They paid out an awful lot of food and water for that. And the punishments… I think I’d rather not remember those.

  The first night we all got called out of the mines. All the slaves took our place around the edge of the bottom of the lake, forming a circle. Everyone did their best to look small, trying to ignore the armed men watching us on the walkway above. I met eyes with Rusty. He looked heartbroken, a collar far too small around his neck and a short leash held too tightly by the man in charge. His tail wagged when he saw me, and seeing him alive was a relief.

  They offered us a deal, a fight for their amusement. Winner gets fed. The person who stepped forward was massive, strong. Probably not that big, actually, but big to a kid.

  Mara stepped forward. I half reached out, wanting to pull her back, to convince her that it’s a bad idea. I didn’t touch her though.

  Laughter rolled through the audience. God she hated that. The guy stepped forward, towering over Mara.

  “You don’t want to do this kid.” He said.

  Mara took her stance, and waited. Her plan was the same as it was in Dallas.

  They think we’re just dumbass kids. They’ve already underestimated me, and they’re going to die for it.

  The man cocked his head and threw a punch. Mara ducked, landed one hit below his belt, and a second hit clocked his jaw. He went down, and Mara’s boot hit the side of his head. She stepped back, and added another kick to his ribs.

  The crowd loved that. They tossed down food and water. Even the most desperate didn’t dare to reach for it. I collected her earnings, two people pulled the man to the edge of the arena, and she just slowly turned around, her arms held wide.

  “Anyone else?” She called.

  A desperate woman stepped forward. You could count every rib she had. Mara made another example of her. More food, more water.

  Her third fight was much more scrappy. The guy was fast, but Mara could take a hit better than anyone I’ve ever known. She was made for this. She weathered his blows and brought him to the ground. Her nails ripped apart his skin, she bit, she kicked, she choked. There was no tapping out. The fight ended when she wanted it to.

  The slavers eventually dispersed, and the man in charge dismissed us. Rusty fought to stay in view of me, got half-lifted by his neck, dragged away.

  Mara took my hand and gently pulled me back into the mines, not demanding, just guiding. I kept my eyes on my dog for as long as I could. We found a little crevice, stashed our food in the back, and climbed in.

  “You did good.” She whispered, tenderly holding my head to her chest. “I’ll get us out of here, and I’ll get Rusty back, I promise.”

  “What are we going to do?” I pulled back, ripped my shirt to shreds, and did my best to clean her wounds, both from the crash and the fight.

  “Simple. We kill every single one of those bastards. You buy me time, keep me alive, I’ll get us out of here. Got it?”

  “Ok.”

  “Good.” She let out a loud sigh. “Now get some sleep.”

  She was genuinely caring in those days. I don’t even think she was trying to manipulate me. Thinking back, it was always different when she did that. Don’t get me wrong, it was never for a good reason. She was just the only one allowed to mess with me.

  The next morning I got to work, I did my job. I worked myself to the bone, trying to make sure Mara and I both survived. Mara, on the other hand, played politics, trying to buy us friends, sometimes literally.

  Food and water was all that mattered. Going hungry for an IOU? Yeah, that can be worth it. I don’t know how she did it, but she inserted herself into every part of life. She didn’t just have her finger on the pulse of everything that was happening down there, she slowly became its beating heart. Not a single thing happened without her notice.

  Still, even with her being busy, every night we had our tender moments. We kept each other going, as equals for the first time. People even started to look up to me, just like they did for her. I wasn’t made for that though, I just kept working.

  Time got a little fuzzy down there. Mara needed the credit of bringing out the food and water, making people think she was some superhuman, perfect slave. Me and a couple of other people would haul the water and ore nearly to the entrance, and Mara would finish the job. What that meant for me, however, was that I very rarely saw the sunlight. During the fights whenever the slavers got bored, sure, but that was it. My days were marked by when I went to sleep, entirely detached from the sun.

  And those fights. Always brutal. Mara didn’t always win of course, we were still kids, but every fight drew blood. We always made sure to give extra food to anyone who got the crap kicked out of them though. Easiest way to keep control of a group is to make them fight each other, and we wanted to avoid that. Her plan started to work, the slavers loved her. Brought her up the stairs to do who knows what with.

  She started to make friends, and brought back gifts. A cattle prod, hot food and cold water, a knife. In addition to that, she stole what she could. Just small things, anything she could get away with. Ceramic and glass shards, anything to make a shiv out of. They loved what we were doing, they loved productivity increasing, and the ambitious hadn’t yet been replaced by the clever. They didn’t ask questions, didn’t keep tabs on us. They didn't have cameras in the mines. It’d take a while, but Mara would keep her promise.

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