Chapter 4

The gates of New Dawn Sanctuary loomed out of the darkness, high and imposing, topped with barbed wire.

Floodlights cut through the night, manned guard towers visible at intervals along the perimeter fence.

It was exactly as I remembered, a fortress disguised as a haven.

My stomach clenched. I was back.

Kyle drove the pickup slowly towards the main gate, where two Guardians, armed with rifles, stepped out of the shadows.

One of them, stern-faced and bulky, approached the driver's side.

"State your business," he commanded, his voice devoid of emotion.

"We have a delivery," Earl stammered, his earlier bravado gone. He was sweating. "For the Prophet. We... we called ahead. Spoke to Jericho."

The guard looked at a clipboard. "Name?"

"Uh, Earl. Earl Johnson. This is my wife, Brenda, and my son, Kyle." He gestured vaguely.

The guard' s eyes flicked over them, then into the back where I sat, huddled and silent.

He didn't recognize me. Of course, he didn't.

Why would he? A beaten girl with hacked-off hair, dressed in dirty clothes.

"The package?" the guard asked, his gaze returning to Earl.

"Yeah, her," Kyle said, jerking a thumb towards me. "Ashley."

The guard shone a flashlight in my face. I flinched from the bright light.

He grunted, then spoke into a radio. "Jericho, the Johnson party is here with the... asset."

A crackle, then Jericho' s voice. "Acknowledged. Bring them through. Matriarch Seraphina is waiting at the Welcome House."

Matriarch Seraphina. My adoptive mother.

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic, trapped bird.

The heavy gates creaked open, revealing the familiar, deceptively peaceful grounds of the Sanctuary. Manicured lawns, neat little cabins for the initiates, the larger, imposing structures of the Prophet' s compound in the distance.

It all looked so calm, so orderly.

A lie. It was all a lie.

They drove us to a building near the entrance, the "Welcome House." It was where new initiates were processed.

Or, in my case, where escapees were brought back.

Matriarch Seraphina stood on the porch, bathed in the soft glow of a lantern.

She looked regal, serene, her silver hair perfectly coiffed.

But her eyes, when they fell on me as Kyle roughly pulled me from the truck, were cold.

Ice cold.

She didn't recognize me either.

I was just another piece of damaged human cargo.

"What is this?" Seraphina asked, her voice sharp, displeasure evident. She looked me up and down with disdain. "Jericho said she was... difficult. He didn't say she was half-dead."

Brenda stepped forward, her greedy smile back in place. "Matriarch Seraphina? We're the ones who called. About Ashley."

Seraphina' s gaze barely touched Brenda. It was fixed on my battered face.

"She's filthy," Seraphina stated. "And clearly abused. This is not what we agreed upon."

Her voice was like chipped ice.

My hope, the tiny ember that had refused to die, finally extinguished. She didn't know me.

"Take her to the Re-Education Quarters," Seraphina commanded to the two Guardians who had flanked us. "Clean her up. See if she's even salvageable."

The Re-Education Quarters.

A place of brutal punishment, solitary confinement, and relentless brainwashing.

Fear, cold and sharp, pierced through my numbness.

The Guardians grabbed my arms, their grips like iron.

They started dragging me away.

Towards the darkness. Towards the place I feared most.