Age of Demons

Chapter 4 - Ashlyn

Deliverance Safe House

Metal clanged on metal, and the sound of water hissing in the air crowded the tiny kitchen area.

An avalanche of bowls dropped to the floor behind me, as loud as hundreds of symbols crashing together. I didn't look. I averted my eyes and focused on my own task at hand.

Voices escalated. The manager had arrived. Behind me, she berated one of the workers.

I stared at the sink, at the dirty dishes remaining, the streaks and smears on them taunting me. Gagging, I picked up one plate that looked like someone had puked on it, and started rinsing.

There was a time limit to how long we could clean each dish. We got our water from a well. Supplies were limited. So I quickly counted to three seconds in my head before turning the water off and concentrating on trying to get rid of that last mark with the sponge.

I avoided eating with the utensils. But sometimes it couldn't be helped. Luckily, since we were such a small community, there weren't a whole lot of various germs to spread, so only minor sicknesses caught on fire rather than nasty ones.

The manager was still yelling. I was tempted to peer over my shoulder at the results of the clumsy act, but I kept my head down. It's not worth it.

An hour ticked by. I lingered at the sink, stuck in a never-ending routine of washing dishes. The pile grew like bacteria.

Leyla wasn't in today. When I had gone to her room that morning to check on her, she hadn't answered. I worried for her and Carter. He was out scavenging—going beyond the perimeter to abandoned buildings to find anything of use. He could get a little hotheaded sometimes, and I was concerned that he would be too focused on Leyla to remain vigilant to his surroundings.

The outside world was dangerous.

Still, everyone inside had to work. There were hunters and scavengers, like Carter. There were also people who tended the gardens, worked the kitchens, and cleaned. Likewise, positions were available to work with Joel, the safe house director—in charge of everything that went on inside the walls. Only his most trusted were allowed on that level.

"Ashlyn!"

I cringed, gritting my teeth in preparation for what was to come.

Footsteps pounded my way, and the manager loomed over me. Her presence was as strong as a brick wall, and I feared it falling on top me and crushing me beneath its anger.

A fountain of stale breath poured over me. "If you don't have those dishes clean by the end of your shift, you'll stay for dinner."

I started scrubbing vigorously.

There were only two hundred residents in the building, but the mountain of dishes seemed to say otherwise.

Of course, I didn't finish the dishes, and they made me stay for dinner. The hours blended into one other, and all I could see were streaks of food. My fingers sprouted wrinkles from the water.

I didn't talk to anyone else working. And they didn't say anything to me. That's how it was supposed to be: keep focused on your own work, no sidetracking. We all had our own job, which ranged from dishes to preparing meals to cooking them.

Finally, darkness permeated every inch of the windows. It had been gray all day, the clouds suffocating the sun's light. I dashed out of there as fast as I could before one of the managers could make me do some stupid task. They were mean—old and sick of the world. Tired of feeding the public, the greedy wanting people, they would say.