Angelica was walked into the barracks under heavy guard. She thought about saying something smart, but these guys had learned. They were out of range of a quick kick or move, and could cut her down easily. They were also spaced out so she couldn’t easily put one or two between the third. If she tried that, she’d be cut down as well.
“You’re in 4C,” the guard behind her said. “Your bedding, pillows and clothing are all on your bunk.”
“4C?” Angelica asked, noting the numbers on the doors. “And what building am I in again? It was too dark to see. I assume I’m allowed out of my room at some point?”
“As long as you don’t try to pull anything over on us, you won’t be confined. But if we have any other incidents, you’re likely to end up confined to your bunk, or in solitary.”
“Yeah, unless we just deep six the cunt,” one of the guards snickered.
Anna turned to the man who had called her the hated word and he still smiled. He raised his carbine up to point right at the center of her chest. “Go ahead Barbie, seriously.”
“Homeland Agent Pritchard,” she said, then nodded and turned around and started walking.
The big building seemed to be two floors. The common area they had left had a small living room with chairs instead of couches. There was one guy in there holding hands with a lady. They were watching MSNBC. The Rachel lady was on, talking about impeachment, Russia and how the latest Supreme Court pick would never make it through the Senate.
“Is this a co-ed barracks?” she asked, entering a hallway that seemed to have rooms marked off above the doorways.
“No, it’s all ladies here. Men are allowed to visit with a special pass, but they can’t leave the common area. It's a safety precaution.”
“What if it’s somebody's husband?” Anna asked.
“Once a week, they have an opportunity to have some alone time,” Pritchard answered from behind her. “Unless you’re one of ours. We can pull rank any time a lady is willing…”
His words trailed off and Angelica decided right there he was going to die. She figured any lady could have had the worst being done to her, but some might have been taking advantage of the ladies who may have gone to them willingly. She hated it.
“Here you go,” the guard that hadn’t spoken to her yet said.
“Thanks for the escort, guys. You won’t have any more trouble from me. By the way, what do we do about bathrooms, food, stuff like that?”
“End of the hallway is the bathrooms. Laundry is done every third day. You’ll have four sets of clothing and a pair of shoes in there. Food? I could tell you, but it’s dark and you’d get lost. Just ask somebody in the morning or follow them to breakfast. It’s generally around 8am, 1pm and 6pm when they ring the bell.”
“Thank you,” Angel said softly.
The agents walked backwards, guns trained on her, then turned and walked out of the barracks quickly.
Pritchard lit up a cigarette when he’d gone outside and turned to his buddies. “Think she’ll like the surprise?”
“I think she’ll love it,” the first guard told him.
The third grunted. He hadn’t liked the idea, and had had nothing to do with it. He’d been pulled to make up the trio to escort a dangerous guest to her room. He’d heard rumors of what she’d done and there were a few grainy cell phone videos he’d seen. He’d been curious how someone so small and savagely beautiful had done what she’d done. But what the men planned for her now? He was not a fan, and hoped nobody died.
Nineteen
“Well good evening Miss Sunshine.”
The words came from one of the three ladies who were in the room. Two were in their thirties or early forties. One had brownish mousy hair, the other had blonde with natural red highlights. Both looked terrified of the third. She was big. Not just in size, but girth. Before the pandemic, Angelica figured she would have been easily over two hundred and fifty pounds. Now, she was probably twenty pounds lighter, judging by the loose skin on her neck. She might be on the apocalyptic diet right now, but she had no problem having her hair cut and dyed.
It was shaved to the skin on the sides, and the top of her hair was about five inches long, and spiked. It was dyed both purple and green, depending on which spike was sticking up. A ring in her nose, along with numerous tattoos, finished off her look. A want to be biker or punk rocker. Judging by the woman’s age though, she thought it’d be the former than the later. It didn’t smell like she’d showered either.
“Hi. I’m Angelica,” she said quietly. “I was told I was bunking in here. Which one is mine?”
She wasn’t sure, because the two ladies who looked terrified were sitting on the bottom bunk on the right side of the fifteen-by-fifteen room. The bottom bunk on the left side where the biker lady was had a stripped mattress with nothing on it. The top mattress was made up and had what looked like the woman’s personal effects.
“Bottom,” biker told her.
“Thanks. What’s your name again?”
The big lady sighed loudly, then walked to Angelica. She saw it coming but wanted to know what the lady’s motivations were. She was pushed back into the door frame. The wind didn’t leave
