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Branded (Sinners #1)
by Abi
Ketner and Missy Kalicicki
presented by Month9Books!
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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.
To punish the guilty, he created the Hole, a place where sinners
are branded according to their sins. Sinners are forced to live a less than human existence in
deplorable conditions, under the watchful eye of guards who are ready to kill anyone who steps
out of line.
Now, LUST wraps around my neck like thick, blue fingers,
threatening to choke the life out of me. I’ve been accused of a crime I didn’t commit, and the
Hole is my new home.
Constant darkness.
Brutal and savage violence.
Excruciating pain.
Every day is a fight for survival.
But I won’t let them win. I will not die in the Hole.
I am more than my brand. I’m a fighter. My name is Lexi Hamilton,
and this is my story.
Branded (Sinners #1) by Abi Ketner and Missy Kalicicki
Publisher: Month9Books
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. Twenty-foot
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. Some are
hardened criminals; others, like me, are innocent. 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. “I didn’t mean to hit the
guard. I swear it!” he pleads. I turn my head when I see a guard whip out his baton. The
thumping sounds of his beating unnerve me. “Spread your legs,” one of the guards says icily.
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. A woman clings to a man sitting next to her. She grips his
arm and I can see the whitening of her knuckles. Her eyes meet mine and then she quickly turns
away. He’s bent over his hands, defeated. “I’m not the criminal they say I am,” he whispers. His
voice breaks. One by one, they pull people into the next room, forcing the rest of us to wonder
what torture we’ll endure. I hear screaming from somewhere inside. 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. The first
thing I see is a large photo of a regal-looking man on the wall. His frame is wide and he has
cobalt blue eyes and a shock of black hair. He’s handsome, middle-aged, and wears the uniform
of the Commander. My jaw drops open. It can’t be… Then the door slams closed. I feel their
strong arms 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. 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. And that
large, gilded photo stares at me like it’s watching. 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 shrugs and 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 fist. “Give it to me.” His eyes turn to slits. “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.
Courtesy of authors' website
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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