“How we doing this fine day?” Olson spoke around the nasty cigar protruding from the corner of his mouth; he never lit the cigars, just chewed on them until they were slimy, mangled, and gross.

The horde of kids—all ages and genders—occupied about half the large room and milled around aimlessly. Some sat silently on the floor, staring off into space. Fifteen-year-old Kelly hugged her little brother close to her body. Raimi sagged weakly against her chest, his breath quick and short with a wheezy wet rasp. He was barely breathing, barely conscious, and that scared the hell out of her. His fevered body felt extra-hot against her icy skin. She pressed her lips to his scalding forehead and tried to sink further back among the throng, willing herself and Raimi to disappear, become invisible.

Just before breakfast each morning, Olson and Barron performed a “thinning of the herd” as they called it, removing the critically ill kids and transferring them to a back room where few were ever seen again. For the last couple days, Kelly had convinced them that Raimi was just sleepy and a little weak, but that he would get better. But he wasn’t getting better and there was no hiding that now.

“Everyone line up,” Barron ordered.

Kelly held Raimi in her arms. If she set him on his feet, he would fall down. Sometimes he shook so violently she could hardly hold onto him and when he was coherent, he would cry because his chest hurt, made even worse by the severe coughing.

“Hurry it up, sweetheart,” Barron told her. “No breakfast until we’re done here.”

Keeping her eyes down, Kelly moved into line. Her weak arms trembled from holding her brother. He was six but in his malnourished, ill state, he didn’t look more than four. Had she been healthy, he wouldn’t have been heavy at all, but as it was, it took every ounce of strength to support him.

“Put him down.” Olson gnawed the disgusting cigar. His gut protruded his belt a little, stretching the fabric of his t-shirt. He shoved his hand through his greasy hair then clamped his hips. “I said put him down.”

Swallowing a sob, Kelly whispered to Raimi, trying to wake him up a little more as she slowly lowered him to the ice-cold floor. His bare little feet touched down but didn’t hold as he slid into a heap against her leg.

“Get him out of here.”

“No…” Kelly whimpered when Barron stepped over and reached for her little brother. She dropped to the floor and clung to Raimi. “Please,” she begged. “He needs me. He-he can’t breathe when you lay him down. Please let me go with him.”

“Face it, honey,” Barron grunted. “He’s done for.” He yanked the child from her arms without care and flopped him over his shoulder like a bag of grain. Raimi began to cough and choke as his small chest depressed beneath Barron’s shoulder, bringing him closer to consciousness.

“Kelly…” he cried, gagging on the phlegm clogging his throat and lungs. His cries caused him to cough harder, impairing his breathing even more, increasing the pain in his chest.

“No!” Kelly cried and scrambled to her feet. “Don’t hold him like that! He can’t breathe!” She screamed when she was suddenly jerked back by the hair and thrown to the floor.

“Stay down,” Olson ordered, a stiff finger jabbed at her.

“Please,” she sobbed. “He needs me.”

Olson snorted. “Not gonna matter soon, anyway. He ain’t gonna last much longer. Should just put him down.”

“No!”

“Kell-eee!” Raimi screamed as Barron packed him out of the room.

“No! Please! Bring him back!” Kelly crumpled in a heap, crying and screaming. “Raimi!”

Olson backhanded her and knocked her all the way down. “Shut up. I’m sick of your fucking whining. Face it, the brat is as good as dead.”

The horde of other kids stood silently, no one making eye contact with anyone else. Kelly curled into a ball on the freezing cold floor and buried her face in her arms, terrified of Olson’s words…because she knew they were true. Raimi was really sick, and he was getting worse by the day. Every morning, she was terrified to open her eyes, for fear he would be dead in her arms.

Barron returned from the back and walked over to Kelly, dragging her to her feet. “You know the drill, sweetheart,” he said. “We gotta weed out the sick ones or you’ll all get sick. Now, you don’t want that, do ya?”

It was futile, but she pleaded one more time. “Please let me go be with Raimi. He needs me.”

“Nothing you can do for him now,” Barron smiled and puffed on a rolled cigarette. “I told ya, the kid’s a goner. But if you like…” He pressed closer and she instinctively flinched. “…I’ll do you a favor and distract you from thoughts of your dying kid brother.”

Kelly trembled, and tears formed, running down her face. She shrank away from him, shaking her head.

“Ah, come on,” Barron murmured. “I thought you liked me. Don’t I treat you special?”

Kelly ducked her head and hugged her skinny body through the worn, filthy dress.

The man ran his hand up her thigh and under the hem of her dress. “Don’t be playing now. I know you like me.” He leaned closer still and smoke spiraled up her nostrils, making her cough. “Come on, now, darlin’…let’s go see what we can do about getting your mind on something else.”

“No…” Kelly whimpered as Barron gripped her arm. “Please…I-I need to be with Raimi…please…”

“Well,” Barron smiled around his cigarette. “If you’re real nice to me, maybe I’ll do something nice for you.”

She knew he was lying but she was desperate for hope. He wasn’t really asking her permission and would rape her whether she was consenting or not, but if there was even a small chance of him letting her be with Raimi…

“O-Okay.” She shuddered hard.

“That’s my girl.” Barron looked at Olson. “Go on and slop the livestock,” he smirked. “This one can eat when we get back.”

Slop the livestock. How far off was that description? She and the other kids were treated like animals…fed like animals…until all they knew to do was react like animals. Most of them didn’t even speak anymore. They screamed when hurt, but otherwise just seemed to grunt at each other. She wondered if some of them even remembered they were human.

As Barron led her away, she let her mind go numb. None of this really mattered. Once Raimi was gone, she would soon follow…by her own will. Her fate was sealed. Maybe something good waited for her and Raimi on the other side. It couldn’t be any worse.

 

•♦•

 

The orphanage was about an hour out of the city and in a private, rural setting that might’ve appeared serene if not for the shabby lawn and weeds sprouting up in the pathway to the entrance—and the knowledge of the atrocities that lay beyond the doors of the structure. It looked like it may have been a small Inn at one time. There was no sign out front naming the orphanage—perhaps to hide its true identity from anyone who happened upon the place by chance?

Climbing out of the car, Axel looked the place over again as a knot balled his gut; did he really want to go in there? What Jacob had described to them about the orphanage was bad enough, what if it was worse now?

Clint walked around the front of the car and stood beside Axel. “We have to make them believe we’re here to buy. Regardless what you see in there, you have to keep your game face. If you don’t think you can do that, I’ll go in alone.”

Clearing his throat, Axel shook his head. “No. I can do it.”

“All right, then.” Clint lifted his hat, ran his fingers through his hair, then settled the hat down again. “Let’s do this, partner.”

Axel smiled small and resisted the urge to grab his hand as they walked up the unkempt path to the front door. After three firm raps of Clint’s knuckles, a man in his early forties answered, his appearance immediately repulsing Axel. His beady eyes that seemed too close together scrutinized the two of them warily.

“Can I help you?”

Clint stared back, eyes narrow, hard, and steady. “We aren’t here to fuck around,” he stated chillingly. “If you have merchandise, we have cash.”

The man frowned. “Show me the cash.”

“Show me the merchandise.”

For an instant, Axel thought he was going to feign ignorance and turn them away. He looked Clint over and moved back, motioning them inside.

About ten feet past the door, Axel caught a whiff of repugnant odors that sparked sudden nausea. A sickening concoction of what he could only identify as human waste, vomit, and rotting food. Maybe it was a mistake to come inside.

The man led them down a narrow hallway as the disgusting smell grew strong with each step. Axel cleared his throat and rubbed his nose. It didn’t help. Would this stink cling to them after they left this place?

“They’re right in here,” the man said when he paused at a solid door. The smell was coming from the other side—where he kept the kids. “They might look a little worse for wear, but they’ll serve your purpose, I’ve no doubt.”

He opened the door and Axel steeled himself, even held his breath. The gust of chilled air that swept out caused Clint’s face to pinch and grimace as he swallowed hard. Axel reluctantly released his breath and was forced to suck air back in. His stomach revolted, and he barely avoided dumping his breakfast all over the floor.

What awaited them inside the huge room was nothing short of hell. Axel couldn’t imagine the real hell being any worse than this. His eyes watered from the powerful pungent odor and he was horrified to discover its source. On the far side of the room sat five-gallon buckets full of nasty shit—literally—and maggot-infested slop, some of which seemed to have been vomited up.

A light dizziness swept over Axel and his body broke out in a cold sweat as his stomach began to turn and churn, rolling and rebelling against the sights and smells.

Don’t lose it—don’t fucking lose it.

He twisted away from the vulgar sight and his eyes fell on the merchandise. A new level of horror invaded him as he stared at the…kids. Except they didn’t act like kids. They were all huddled on the floor, each of them clutching a tin pan of gooey slop—the origin of which Axel couldn’t identify—some eating with their hands, others lapping it up. Some of the kids growled at each other like dogs protecting their food.

This couldn’t be real…it couldn’t…it fucking couldn’t. Axel was trying his hardest to keep his “game face” but he was fast losing control. He tried to focus his thoughts and looked for the man Jacob had told them about. No other staff was in the room.

Clint didn’t have to fake the look on his face as the rage surpassed the revulsion and hardened his features to granite. “What the fuck is this?” he growled at their host. “You expect me to pay good money for these?”

“They’re not as bad off as they appear,” the man insisted. “Feeding time is never a pretty sight, but they’re durable. They can take a fucking.”

Their attention snapped to the back of the room when another man appeared, shoving a young girl ahead of him, tears streaking her face and her movements labored.

That’s him. That’s Barron. Axel immediately recognized him from Jacob’s thorough description.

“Please,” the girl whimpered. “Y-You said I could see him. Please let me see him. Please—he needs me.”

Barron snorted and shoved her down with the rest of the kids. The girl curled into a ball and buried her head in her arms, shaking and sobbing. His eyes narrowing, Axel watched Barron approach.

As Clint’s deadly jade eyes turned to the man as well, Axel experienced one small comfort amidst this ungodly hell; You are going to die, motherfucker—you are going to die a fucking ugly death.