Emily

The sentence had been passed. The only sentence that could have been passed under the circumstances, and Emily let her head fall as she heard it.

There would be no appeal, the evidence had been given correctly, and faultlessly, and she knew that any appeal she made would fail. Even to appeal against the sentence would be futile. For this offence their was only one sentence, and that was what she had been given.

Even though she had been expecting it, Emily was still a little shocked when it had been announced, and now two burly prison officers were grabbing her arms and dragging her down the steps at the back of the defendants stand.

She caught sight of her mother from the corner of her eye, but the glare she saw was more upsetting than the sentence itself. Her mother would, no doubt, disown her before the day was through. It would appear in the local paper as they always did, that Emily Watson was disowned by her family, and that her mother was sorry to have given birth to her.

Over the past six months, since the new laws came into force, there had been numerous notices of dis-ownership. The new laws. These had come when the new owner took over the Island. The first thing he had done was change many of the laws, and decided on his own penalties for various crimes. Breaking curfew meant thirty lashes of the birch in the public square. Emily had seen this happen three times, and on each occasion the girl birched had to be helped down from the post, and carried to the hospital wing.

Right now, Emily wished she had simply been caught breaking curfew, but she was never going to be that lucky.

Curfew was only for the female section of the Islanders, and then only the unmarried ones. This was, according to the new owner, to ensure that the younger females did not display wantonness.

It had been the previous Friday when Emily had met Gerry in the shop. He had suggested that they go sailing on the Island’s lake, as it was only six in the evening, and she would have plenty of time to get home safely afterwards. Having met Gerry a couple of times before, and quite fancying him anyway, Emily had said yes, and off they had gone.

Quite how it had happened she was unsure, but the boating excursion had taken longer than expected, and she lost track of time. The wine may have helped, as she did feel a little light headed after only one or two glasses. had she known the truth, she would have been even more upset.

It was only when the police caught her having sex with Gerry, after curfew, that she realised the severity of her troubles. Unmarried sex was totally forbidden, plus she was out after curfew, and a single female.

She tried to explain that she was drunk, and didn’t know what she was doing, but she knew this would bear no weight when she appeared at court on the Monday morning, and it hadn’t done. The full weight of the law had been brought down on her.

Gerry had given evidence that the boat trip and the sex were both Emily’s idea, and he had simply gone along with her on both to stop her pestering him even more than she had already been doing. The shop keeper. A man in his late 50’s had given evidence that Emily had, in fact, approached Gerry, and had suggested the boat ride, adding that this was not the first time she had asked Gerry, and another man, Steven, who worked in the shop next door. When called to give evidence Steven simply agreed to what had been said, and Emily’s fate had been sealed.

Now, alone in the cells, she cried.

If only her mother would come and talk to her, so Emily could explain that the evidence was false. But that was never going to happen. The evidence was given correctly and faultlessly, from the prosecution’s point of view, and her defence lawyer had been unable to find fault with it, and had pleaded guilty on her behalf.

No appeal would be heard, Emily knew this, and knew what her fate would be. She didn’t need the court Justice to read out the sentence, she already knew what it was going to be.

Just then the chains on the door rattled and her defence lawyer entered the cell.

“Well, Emily” he started. “Your mother has just announced that she has disowned you, so you no longer own the name  Emily Watson. This name will be scrubbed from all records in accordance with the new laws. The court has decided you will now be known simply as 27. you will have no belongings of your own, and in a few minutes your clothes and jewellery will be taken from you. The court has decided that under the circumstances, in that you were found naked and having sex, you will not be issued with public clothing, and shall now remain naked. The number 27 will be burned onto your left upper arm, where everyone can see it”

“Why is this happening?” Cried Emily.

“You know why” answered the lawyer. “You have been found guilty of unmarried sex, breaking curfew and enticing men to have sex with you. Your mother has disowned you so you no longer exist as Emily Watson. From now on you will be 27, nothing more. You will be taken to the far side of the Island tomorrow morning, where you will stay indefinitely. Perhaps, if the law ever changes, you may be allowed back within the compound, but that seems unlikely at this time. Remember, should you wander over to this side of the Island at any time, you break yet another law, and the sentence for that is 100 strokes of the whip. To date, no-one has ever survived that punishment. Also remember, there would be no need to take you before the Justice should you be caught here. Simply being caught here would be sufficient.”

With this the lawyer turned on his heels and left the cell, slamming the heavy metal grating behind him, and leaving Emily to consider her fate.

A few minutes later the two prison guards who had led her down to the cells re-appeared and entered the cell.

“Undress and place all your items in the basket” said the first guard. “Jewellery. Watches and rings as well.”

“But please” started Emily. “The watch was a gift from my mother. Cannot I keep it?”

“Since about an hour ago you have no mother, never have had, and in fact, have never existed. Mrs Watson has expressly asked that we make sure the watch is returned to her. now get a move on, or you will be whipped.”

Emily could not control the tears as she slowly started to undress, trying her best to hide her feminine parts from the eyes of the prying men. But she knew this was a futile attempt at modesty, soon she would be fully on display, and at the mercy of any male who wanted her. she would not be allowed to come to this side of the Island, but the men were allowed to cross to the other side, and help themselves to the exiles, of which Emily was going to be added to the ranks.

Naked and shivering, she stood in the centre of the cell. One of the guards brought her arms back behind her, and she felt the cold metal of cuffs as they snapped into place around her wrists.

They brought her out of the cell and along a dark passageway, holding her up when she started to droop. At the end of the passage was an open door, and lights shining though it. Emily was brought into the room, and placed in a chair. Before being strapped to it.

She could see the brazier burning in the centre of the room, less than five feet away from her, and knew that the iron standing out from it,. one end still on the flames, was going to be the number 27 she had been told would be burned into her arm.

At that moment the Justice entered the room from a door out of the prisoner’s sight, and walked in front of her.

“27. you have been found guilty of serious crimes and will be exiled at first light. You will be issued no public clothing, and will be allowed no personal property. Your former name has been obliterated from all records. You never existed. In a few minutes your number will be branded onto you, which will stay with you for life. As you know, there will be no appeal, and so no reason to delay the sentence being carried out. Think yourself lucky that we decided simply to exile you. You could have been birched first. It was only because your lawyer decided on your behalf to plead guilty that you escaped it. I understand you were going to fight the charges but that would have meant the birch, and you would still have been exiled.”

The Justice then walked over to the brazier and withdrew the red hot metal from the flames. Emily tried to shy away from it as the Justice moved closer to her, but the two prison officers ensured that she could not move.

A high agonising scream filled the room, and it took several seconds for Emily to realise it was her own scream, as the red hot metal burned its way onto and into her flesh. How long it was held there she was unaware, but it felt like an eternity. Only when she passed out did the Justice move the metal away from her arm. And one of the prison guards threw cold water over the wound to stop it burning any more.

The ugly black mark, hardly recognise-able yet as her number, would live with Emily for the rest of her life.

By the time 27 had regained consciousness, she was shackled hand and foot, and had been placed in a cage on the back of a cart in the yard of the prison. Her arm hurt more than any pain she had ever felt before, and as the cart moved forwards over the bumpy ground, she felt it more and more. She looked down at the branding, only to see blackened seared flesh, the number visible, but not as clear yet as it would become when it healed.

The metal gates of the prison opened, as the cart neared it, driven by two prison guards, allowing 27 her last views of the world she had known. Her mother stood outside the gates and glared at her as the cart moved slowly past. 27 could not help the tears that flowed freely, seeing her mother acting this way, disowning her only daughter. She would never again see her mother, and for this to be the last memory of her, was more than 27 could handle.

Through the town, the cart made its slow journey. The journey was always done this way, so that others may see what would happen to them if they, too, disobeyed the rules and were transported and disowned.

Once beyond the town the cart picked up speed, and 27 watched as the settlement disappeared behind her, wondering what would now become of her. She had heard stories about the far side of the Island, and none of them made her feel any better about what was happening to her.

Exiles had no rights and no legal protection. They were  given food that was just sufficient to live on, but, that was all that was provided for them. Other than that their needs were not met. Survival was not a right, it was a challenge, a daily challenge.

Eventually the cart pulled up in front of some wooden huts, and 27 was dragged out, falling to the ground heavily as she was pulled, her arm hurting even more.

A huge man met the guards as they handed over the paperwork that would make the girl an exile.

Reading the papers, the man then turned to the girl and spoke.

“27. you are hereby exiled to this side of the Island. You are to make no attempt to go to the other side of the Island for any reason. Any attempt to do so, or to make contact with anyone outside the confines of this settlement will result in immediate and severe punishment. There are no court rooms here, punishment is sure and severe for any breach of the rules. You will be fed once a day at the communal kitchen in the last hut, the green one. If for any reason you are not there when the food is handed out, you will miss out, there will be no excuses for lateness, miss out, and that’s the lot for the day. You will then have to wait until the following day. Any attempts to cover your body with any form of clothing is an offence, as it has been deemed you are not worthy of public clothing, as you were found guilty of whorish behaviour, and were in fact naked when arrested. I am not going to ask if you have any questions, because it no longer matters if you do or do not. Your last right was your carriage to this side of the Island. From now on you have no rights at all. As far as the law is concerned, you don’t actually exist anymore. Sleeping quarters are over there” he said, pointing to a line of trees a little way off from the huts. “ When you sleep is up to you. You have missed today’s food issue, so you will now have to wait until tomorrow. A single bell will be heard when food is about to be issued, you then have two minutes to get to the hut, fail, and you starve. Expect no mercy, and do as you are told, and you will avoid punishment.”

27 watched as the cart was set into motion again, and moved out of the settlement, leaving her to what ever her future held.

Exile

Freed from the chains that had held her, 27 moved slowly away from the huts and the guard, moving towards the tree line he had pointed out to her, finding a shaded area where she sat and cried. Her arm hurt, her heart hurt and her mind was in turmoil. Only a few short days ago she had been a respectable member of the community, and now, because she had gone for that boat ride, she was an outcast, disowned and branded. Even her lawyer had believed the evidence, unless he was aware of the truth but failed to say so. It was only then that she realised that she had never heard of an acquittal since the new owner took over the Island. Perhaps the lawyers were paid to not defend, simply to enter a plea of guilty for the accused.

Looking around at the other figures a short distance away, 27 suddenly realised that all of the exiles were females. There wasn’t a single male on this side of the Island. The second thing she noticed that, like herself, they were all naked. This enforced her views that perhaps no-one was supposed to be acquitted, and that the trials were merely for show, the decisions already having been made beforehand.

A shadow seemed to loom over her, and as 27 looked up a large blonde woman stood over her.

“You’re new aren’t you?”

“Yes”, replied 27.

“Missed out on the food, and hungry?”

“I wasn’t hungry, until I was told I would not be getting any food today, and then I was”

“I can help” said the blonde. “ am 15” she pointed to the brand, now healed, on her arm. “I have stashed a little away for a rainy day, and, for a price, you can have some”

“What sort of price?” asked 27

“I have to make a delivery tomorrow to West Isle”. The blonde pointed to a small Island just off the coast. “If you make the delivery for me, you can have some food tonight.”

27 looked at the woman and hesitated, but her stomach was churning, as she realised that she had no eaten since her mother had cooked for her on the Thursday night.

“Okay. What am I delivering?”

“just a few things that came from the other side. It’s a weekly delivery. Takes about an hour to get there, and an hour to get back. If you agree to make the delivery for me, you can happily eat tonight.”

27 felt she had no choice. Until she had been told that she would not be fed today, she had not actually felt hungry, but it was the reminder that she had not eaten for a few days, and would not eat for another day that had made her stomach ache with hunger.

“Okay” she agreed

“Come with me” said the blonde walking slowly inside the line of trees, and out of the sun.

27 rose to her feet and followed the woman deeper into the tree line.. they seemed to be following a new path, the grass slightly trodden down, but not enough to make it obvious unless you were actually on the path. About five minutes later they came to a small clearing in the trees, where a sail cloth had been strung up to make  a shaded area. Under the cloth were some small items of bedding. A pillow case stuffed with grass, another small sheet of sail cloth, and a large tin which soon revealed itself to contain fresh water.

“Where did you get all this?” asked 27. “I thought we were not allowed personal belongings”

“We aren’t” answered the blonde. “Much of this I got from West Isle, if the powers that be knew I had it, I would probably be whipped and all of it taken off me and burned. The guard never comes over this far, and certainly not into the trees, so its pretty well hidden. They don’t really search the areas, they simply let us exist, and feed us once a day.”

28 joined the blonde under the shade and sat down opposite her on the grass.

“Here” said the blonde. “eat this. It isn’t much, but it should fill the void a little”

She handed 27 a slice of bread covered in what could be mistaken for margarine, and a small piece of hard cheese. It was hardly palatable, but 27 didn’t care. She ate it without thought.

“I’m Emily” said 27 when she had finished eating.

“No you’re not.” Said the blonde. She looked at the new girl’s arm and said “You’re 27. anyone heard using the name they were previously known by gets whipped. The last girl got 40 strokes, because she refused to accept that she was now only a number, not a human being anymore. I am 15, and that’s all you’re allowed to call me. Just as I can only call you 27, your old name no longer exists”

“even here I have no name?” 27 felt the tears rising in her eyes.

“Don’t worry about it honey” said 15, “In a few days it wont matter if you are 27 or Mother Theresa. Names mean nothing here, nor does time. When the bell rings in the morning you get over to the green hut for food, miss it and you starve. The bell rings whenever the guard feels like it, not at any set time. As none of us are allowed watches, it makes little difference. We are not prisoners of time, we are prisoners for all time.”

As the night started to close in 15 said she would allow 27 to stay the night with her, but the following day after getting back from West Isle she had better find her own place, as 15 was sure that the new regime would soon exile more women, and good space would become premium.

Thanking her, 27 lay down under the shade and closed her eyes. Sleep, however, seemed elusive, her mind trying to figure out all that had happened to her in the past few days, the pain in her arm slowly diminishing, but she knew from seeing 15’s brand, that the numbers would be on her arm forever.

Quite when she fell asleep she didn’t know, but it was only when 15 shook her that she woke and realised she had actually slept.

“Two minutes” said 15. “The bell just rang”.

Together the two women made their way to he green hut, making it with less than half a minute to spare. Almost as soon as they entered, the door closed, leaving at least four other women outside.

“What about them?” asked 27.

“They have missed out” answered 15. “They know the rules, and so do the guards. By only allowing us two minutes to get here, they ensure that none of the women sleep too far away, so its easier to keep an eye on them”

Food was nothing to write home about. A bowl of porridge, some toasted cheese sandwiches and a mug of tea. For each girl. 27 found it strange that even though four girls had not made it into the hut in time, there was nothing left over.

“They don’t expect everyone to get here in time” said 15, as if reading the new girl’s mind. And if they do, we simply get smaller portions.”

“doesn’t anyone complain?” she asked.

“To whom? Remember, we are not classed as humans anymore on this wretched Island. No-one cares if we live or die, no one cares if we eat or starve, if we say anything they simply remind us that we are only fed because of the generosity of the new owner, should he choose to do so, he could withdraw the food at a whim. No honey, complaining doesn’t work, and last time someone did, we all starved for two days and the girl in question was whipped”

Silently, 27 ate the meagre food, savouring the hot, insipid tea, the first hot drink she had drank in days.

“And before you think of escaping, all the boats are on the other side of the Island. Anyone of us found over that side would be whipped to death, and to try to swim to safety would simply be suicide. This Island is over a hundred miles from anywhere. Apart from West Isle, and I would not suggest going there apart from the delivery.”

27 looked around the green hut at the other women. There were about twelve others, of all ages. One of them 27 thought she had known before, but the girl showed no sign of recognition. The numbers on heir arms were not, it appeared, sequential, they were simply numbers given to them by the Justice at the time of their exile. A brunette girl to 27’s left was numbered 99, and she guessed that only four had failed to make it in time for feeding.

“The boat will be here soon” said 15. “I will help you load it up, but you will have to unload it yourself at West Isle, the men over there won’t help. I will see if I can find you a space near my sleeping area for when you get back. I may have a spare pillow case, and will stuff it with grass for you if I do. I don’t have spare coverings, but that cant be helped. If it does rain, the trees will give a small amount of shelter, which will be better than what some of the girls have.”

Just then the doors of the hut opened, and the woman started filing out. The guard seemed to watch everyone with an eagle eye as they left.

“What is he looking for?” asked 27

“Food” replied 15. “Get caught taking food out and you get punished. They naturally assume you are feeding someone who didn’t make it on time, someone not allowed to eat, and then call it theft, punishable by the usual, a whipping.”.

“Are all things punished by a whipping?”.

“Pretty much. Takes little effort, and the memory lasts a long time. No-one ever breaks two rules” answered 15

As they made their way towards the beach a boat could be seen in the distance, heading for the Island.

“That’s the West Isle boat” said 15, quickening her step. “We don’t want to be late. They wont leave without you, but the guard will take it out on your arse if you are not there when it arrives.”

Speeding up, 27 followed 15 to a wooden jetty, arriving a few minutes before the West Isle boat did. There were several boxes stacked on the jetty. Ready for loading, and both women stood by them waiting. As the boat pulled up, one of the occupants threw a line and 15 grabbed it and tied it to a mooring, while another line was tossed to 27. following 15’s lead, she pulled the rope tight, dragging the boat tight to the jetty, before tying it off.

“Okay”, said the guard. “Get it loaded.”

Without a word 15 started to pick up the packages from the jetty and place them on the boat, telling 27 that they needed to be stacked neatly in case the sea swelled and any packages went over the side. To lose a package through not packing properly would be disaster.

Twenty minutes later the packages were all aboard, and a tarpaulin sheet was pulled over them and tied down, so sea water would not get into them.

“Are you coming 15?” asked on of the men on the boat.

“Not today” she replied. “27 is coming with you. Its her first day here, and I thought she would be able to share the job with Me”

“Okay. Get on board 27, and hold on to something, the winds a bit choppy in the middle. Don’t want you falling overboard on your first trip”.

As 27 boarded the boat, 15 began to release the mooring ropes, and as the man started the engine, he turned the rudder and slowly headed the boat away from the jetty.

A few hundred yards off the Island the man sped the boat up, and as the wind levels raised, 27 felt chills running through her body. There was no cover to hide under, and the fingers holding onto the ropes began to freeze, her hair flying everywhere in the wind.

“Is it always like this?” she asked the man.

“Yep, guess it is” he answered, his face not looking towards her, his words almost lost in the winds. “Will be there in less than an hour, you then get a cup of tea to warm you up, and then you unpack the boat. Do not try to wander away from the boat, you don’t want the cat on your first trip. Once the boat is unloaded we check to see if there is anything to go back, then I will take you back to the Island, and your job is done.”

“what is in the packages?” she asked.

“None of your business.” Came the curt reply. “You just do your job and your arse will stay pink.”

By the time the boat reached West Isle, 27 was freezing cold. The wind had blown relentlessly all the way across, and she found it difficult to move. The man seemed unaffected, but then he was wearing a heavy duty jacket, climbing boots and thick trousers, whereas 27 was naked.

As the boat reached the jetty the man told her to go to the hut at the end and she would get a hot drink. She was to be back at the boat as soon as she had drank it.

Slowly. 27 made her way to the boat hut where a group of five men sat around a wooden table strewn with dirty plates and cups.

At the far side of the hut was a brazier, the small red and blue flames flickering and dancing in the breeze that came through a broken window.

“A new girl” said one of the men, walking over to the brazier and lifting a heavy pot off it, and picking up a cup, poured her a drink of coffee.

“Drink it, and get back to the boat” he said, handing her the cup. “You’re here to work, not on holiday”

With that he returned to the other men and continued their conversation, a conversation 27 could not hear as it seemed mumbled, almost whispered.

The hot coffee, and the heat from the brazier started to warm 27 up a little, grasping the cup in both hands to try to get warmth back into her fingers, ignoring the pins and needles she felt as heat returned once more.

She tried to take her time with the coffee, trying to stay in the warmth for as long as possible, but all too soon the cup was empty.

As if the men had been watching her, as soon as she drank the last dregs, one of them came over, took the cup from her and told her to get back to the boat.

When she arrived back at the boat the tarpaulin had already been removed, leaving the packages exposed.

“Get a move on” said the boatman. “We don’t have all day.”

27 noted the whip the man had hanging from  the belt on his trousers, she immediately decided work would warm her up, and she set to removing the packages from the boat, stacking them ion a crate next to the jetty. None of the packages were heavy, but it still took her almost half an hour to get them off the boat and into the crate.

Once the boat was empty the boatman climbed back on board and motioned 27 to get on also. Reluctantly, she did as she was told, not looking forward to the return journey. There would be no hot drink waiting for her when she returned to the Island, and even the sun would take time to warm her up again.

Throughout the journey the man said nothing, as 27 cuddled up on the floor of the boat, trying to use the sides to keep the wind off her body, but the wind seemed to find her where ever she hid.

Back on the Island 15 was waiting for 27 when she disembarked.

“Come with me” said 15, urging 27 to follow her.

Together they moved past the green hut towards the trees. 27 thought that they were going back to their sleeping place, but 15 led the way past their spot, and deeper into the trees.

“Where are we going?” asked 27, her teeth still chattering from the cold, barely able to speak.

“Wait and see” answered 15.

Deeper into the trees 15 led her charge, until, after half an hour or so, they reached a small clearing with a lake in the centre of it.

“Jump in” said 15. “The water is warm. I think its fed from an underground waterfall, perhaps close to the old volcano. I always come here after making the delivery, gets the heat back into the body quickly.”

With that 15 dived into the clear water, and signalled 27 to follow her.

Reluctantly, 27 moved closer to the water, seeing 15 splashing about happily, she decided to do as suggested..

As soon as she entered the water she felt the heat. Not overbearing, but certainly warmer than normal lake water. Swimming over to 15 she trod water and thanked her for bringing her here.

“Its no problem” said 15. “s I said, you will be sharing the delivery job with me in future, and if we share work, and sleeping area, we share everything. Not that we actually have a lot to share” she gave a small laugh, the first sound of laughter 27 had heard since her exile.

After a while. Both women climbed out of the water, 27 feeling much warmer now than she had since getting back to the Island. They lay side by side on the bank of the lake, on their backs, letting the sun dry them gently.

“How old are you 27?” asked 15.

“19” replied 27.

“Why were you exiled?”

27 told her friend about meeting Gerry in the shop, and the boat ride. She couldn’t actually remember how she got to be having sex with him though, maybe it was the wine, but she had been caught. She explained that her defence lawyer had entered a plea of guilty on her behalf, and then her mother had dis owned her, so she had been branded and exiled.

“Usual story” said 15, disgust in her voice. “The wine would have been drugged, and the whole thing set up in advance. What do you know of the history of the Island?”.

“Just stories I guess “ answered 27. “It was a pirates hideaway or something, but no-one could ever say when or how”

“History time then 27.” Said 15, rolling onto her stomach and leaning on her elbows.

“1743, a British naval vessel was sailing in these parts when there was a mutiny on board. The men had not had fresh supplies for over a month, and scurvy and other diseases were rife onboard. The captain had refused to pull in and restock at the last port of call, and the men were getting frustrated, and in the end, took over the ship. They saw this island and hoped to get fresh water and food, and headed inland, sinking the ship a distance off shore, coming in by longboats. When they got here, there were no fresh supplies, and now they had sank their only way of getting back to civilisation, though that would have meant they would all have been hanged anyway.

“over the first five months over half the crew died, though the rest had learned to survive on the plants that grew on the island. This lake is actually clear water, and can be drunk. There is another lake like it on the other side of the island, which is where the settlement is. In fact, the lake you went boating on. By felling trees they managed to built a settlement. One day, they were looking for food when a boat appeared on the horizon. Laying in wait they fought and beat the people in the boat when they landed here, only to learn that there was another island a little way off. It wasn’t large enough to support their number as well, but it did have women there. Using two of the long boats they rowed over one night, and attacked the settlement on the island, kidnapping some of the women, and bringing them back here, where they were used by all of the men.

For the next five years there was continuing battle between this island and the other one, though the sailors eventually won out, they had lost a lot of men.

Eventually a settlement was agreed, and since then both islands have lived in peace. The other island being West Isle.”

“How do you know all of this?” asked 27.

“I was the daughter of the Island’s historian before I was exiled” answered 15, her voice bitter. “I read lots of the books and records dating back to those times.”

“What happened? Why are you here then?”

“like you, I was set up. It was quite clever, as all set ups are. The old owner was visiting My father one day, and discussing deliveries, and I was in the same room. I guess he thought I had heard too much, and wanted rid of Me. I was at work the next day when two policemen arrived with a warrant for my arrest. As one handcuffed me, the other opened my desk and pulled out a sheaf of papers. Apparently, they were plans to escape the Island, and details showing how they were producing drugs here, and exporting them to other countries. If that information got out, there would be a lot of trouble. So it was decided I was a spy, and a danger to the “normal” folk of the Island. My father immediately dis-owned me, even before I went on trial, and the defence lawyer was as much good as a ship with no sails. He pleaded guilty on my behalf, as yours did, and I was sentenced to thirty strokes of the birch, and exiled to this side of the Island. That was about five years ago, and I have been here since. To make things even worse, I was given the job of delivering the packages of drugs from here to West Isle. That’s what you delivered today. They get a delivery every week, and the drugs are then transported to other countries for distribution.”

“Cant we stop them?”

“Not a chance. If I didn’t make the delivery. They would simply get someone else to do it. They only use me because of the irony. I was tried for supposedly trying to leak the information out, and now I am part of the whole thing. But not for much longer.”

“How do you mean?”

“I have a plan to escape the Island, but first I needed someone who would take over the delivery for a few weeks until I get things sorted out, and get someone, somewhere, to put a stop to it.”

“You’re going to escape? How?”

“I would rather not say, if you don’t know you cant tell. Suffice it to say I have a helper, a man on the other side of the Island who is also against the drug trafficking. If I can get to his side of the Island unseen, he will smuggle me onto the next supply ship, and off the Island”

“And if you get caught?”

“Don’t worry 27, I wont get caught”

“You need someone else to do the deliveries so you can get away, and no-one will realise you have gone for a few days?”

“You got it 27. If I failed to turn up for food, they wouldn’t notice, they would just assume I missed the bell. But if I don’t turn up to make the delivery, they would immediately come looking for me. If you are making the delivery, I have two weeks before they actually miss me. By which time I will be anywhere but on this Island”.

Escape

For the next few days 15 and 27 went along with life on the exile side of the Island, arriving when the bell rang, swimming in the warm lake and generally wasting the days with little to do.

27 had asked for more details about 15’s escape, but they were not forthcoming, 15 reminding her that the less she knew, the less she could tell.

There was only one new arrival that week into exile, a girl in her early twenties, the number 49 burned onto her arm, though she also bore the welts of a birching on her back. 27 and 15 tried to make her comfortable, but after only two days the shock to her body took its toll, and she failed to wake up for food on the third day.

As 27 and 15 came out of the food hut that day, they could see the West Isle boat pulling away from the jetty, presumably carrying the body of 49. the two women had not even been told her name, she was, like the others in this settlement, nothing.

“That’s how we will all end up one day “ spat 15, anger in her voice. “Taken off to be buried somewhere, no name, no mourners, nothing. I have seen many in the past five years. And there will be many more yet”

15 walked briskly off, and 27 considered joining her, but thought better of it. She would come back when she was ready, and calmed a little. Instead 27 decided to walk along the beach for a while, considering what her life had become.

The 27 burned into her arm was still sore, and red, but it was now clearly the number 27, and only hurt when she rolled over on it during the night, or knocked it with something or other. It seemed strange that although she remembered screaming out, she could not remember the actual pain as her arm had been branded. Strange how the mind refuses to let us remember things.

It was early afternoon when 15 re-appeared from the trees, finding 27 dozing by their sleeping area.

“Sorry 27, I needed to be alone. I just get so upset when I see someone die. It brings it home to me just how little we mean to those on the other side of the Island. Her parents wont even be told she has died. When someone is disowned, they are truly disowned”

“Its okay 15, I went for a walk along the beach by myself as well. It’s a sad day, but that goes for all the days we are here”

The following day the West Isle boat returned, and 15 made her way to the jetty, 27 close behind.

“I will help you load up” announced 27, making the time pass a little faster, and also taking the load off 15 for a while.

As the boat left the jetty 27 knew that soon, within the next few days, she would be left alone in exile. 15 would make her escape attempt, and would either succeed, or fail. She hoped it would be successful, but her own recent trial made her distrust the men on the other side of the Island. 15 would hear nothing against the man who was going to help her. she was sure he could be trusted. He had, apparently, already secreted her some clothes away, close to the other settlement, so she could walk through the town un-noticed. It would have been much harder to get across town to the docks naked, impossible even.

A little over four hours later and 15 returned from West Isle, and she and 27 made their way to the warm lake.

“That’s my last delivery” said 15 with a smile, after she had warmed up a little. “I will be off in the next few days, so I get two weeks before I am missed. No matter what ship I get smuggled onto, in two weeks it will be far from this Island”

“I am not sure” said 27. “Remember what happened last time any of us trusted men from the other side. We ended up here”.

“Its going to be fine. Its all worked out. And besides, it’s a guy I knew before I was sent here. So I can trust him.”

“If you’re sure” said 27, concern in her voice.

“I am. And just think, when I go, you get my sleeping area, and all that goes with it”

“Ah! You mean the sheet now that is one thing I am really looking forward to” laughed 27.

For another hour or two the women swam in the lake, then lay on the side letting the sun dry their bodies.

When 27 awoke the next day she was still surprised to see 15’s sleeping are empty. It would seem she  had kept to her plans. And slipped off in the night while 27 slept. She hoped 15 would be okay, but her recent experiences with the men on the Island caused her grave doubt.

As she made her way to the food hut, alone for the first time, the guard met her at the door.

“Where’s your shadow, number 15?”

“She caught a chill yesterday on the boot and doesn’t feel like eating. Can I take her something for later?” 27 was amazed at how easily the lie had come to her lips, but she had to protect 15 for as long as possible.

“You know the rules, no food leaves the hut. If she isn’t well enough to eat, she will make a remarkable recovery tomorrow or the day after when she’s hungry”

27 made her way into the hut and ate her breakfast. It seemed strange to eat alone. Ever since her exile 15 had been her friend, and good company. She was already missing her “shadow” as the guard had called 15.

For the next few days life went on as normal, and 27 began to get used to living without her friend. Even when the boat came the next week, it seemed natural for her to load it herself, and make the delivery.

Upon returning to the Island she was surprised to see three guards waiting on the jetty. One was clearly carrying a set of manacles. Even before she could get off the boat, the three guards climbed on board, and while two held her in vice like grips, the third began manacling her hands, and her feet, before dragging her ashore.

“27”, said one of the guards. “You are to be taken to the Justice charged with aiding and abetting am escape. You can expect severe punishment for this.”

“What are you on about?” screamed 27 as the two guars holding her manhandled her into the back of a jeep. “I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“Tell it to the Justice” replied the guard, and then ignored her and started the jeep, heading it for the other side of the Island.

The Justice was waiting for 27 when she arrived back at the compound.

“Well, 27. looks as if you have blotted your copybook at this time. You are charged with aiding and abetting an escape attempt, in that you either knew before hand, or simply lied to a guard to cover up the escape of 15. I am not going to ask how you plead, I have the evidence of the guard who says you told him 15 was too ill to eat, and that you asked if you could take food back to her. However, by that time, 15 was already in custody, so could not have possibly been too ill to eat, and your attempts to take food back to her were simply to cover up her absence. Anything to say?”

The Justice waited a few  seconds while 27 tried to think.

“I thought not 27. However, you are not going to be birched, and nor is 15. we have decided that as she, and I guess you as well, have a desire to leave this Island, where  we have tried to treat you fairly, we will assist you in this. You will be taken on the next ship and sold as a slave, both of you. Perhaps after a few years in slavery, you will wish you had never got involved in this tomfoolery. Take her away” he said to the guards, who dragged 27 out of the court room and down to the cells she had last seen the day she was branded.

Transported

For the next week 27 and 15 languished in the compound. The Justice had decided that they were to be out in the courtyard during the day, to stop their skin paling before they were transported for sale. He thought that pale skinned slaves would not get as much as those with colour to them. He was probably right in this, but this was their first entry into the slave trading market. If these two brought a good price, there were another fifty girls on the far side of the Island who could be sold off. The owner had originally suggested the idea. It seemed he had contacts within the slave traders, though he was still keeping his cards close to his chest on the traders. All he had said so far was that a ship would come and collect the girls, and that would be the end of them. They would certainly not be coming back.

To occupy themselves 27 and 15 swept the yard, fed the guards horses and even cooked the food for the guards and themselves. They were both surprised that they were being allowed proper food, but this, again, was down to the owner. Well fed slaves brought a higher price than skinny ones. Their new owners would want some meat on them, and the exercise they were undertaking would keep their bodies toned.

The owner, it seemed, knew a lot more about the slave trade than he was telling anyone. In truth, he had, at one time, been a senior trader, which is how he got the money to buy the Island in the first place. He had originally intended to hold markets here, away from prying eyes. But the drug trade seemed the more profitable one, and he had shelved his other ideas for a while. But the attempted escape of 15 had reawakened his thoughts, and the hunger to get back into the trade he knew more about. The drug trade more or less ran itself, and he found the time on his hands boring. In the slave trade there was lots of planning to do, so he was rarely if ever bored.

In the middle of the second week the guards went to let the girls out, but unlike normal, they carried shackles and chains. Without speaking they shackled 27’s feet together, leaving only a short chain to allow her to walk. Another pair of shackles were placed on her wrists, and a chain linking her wrists to her ankles. Escape from these shackles would be impossible. Once shackled, 27 was led into the corridor, where 15 was already standing waiting, shackled in the same manner as 27.

The Justice stood before then and spoke.

“15. 27. This is the last time you will see the island. In a few minutes you will be taken to the harbour and loaded onto a ship that will take you to your new lives. I have no idea where you are going, but I am told it will take almost a month to get there, during which time you will undergo some slave training, so that you will be ready for whoever buys you at the sales. You have only yourselves to blame for this. Had you, 15, not attempted to escape, and you, 27, attempted to cover up her escape, you would have remained in exile until the end of your days. Now, that is no longer an option for either of you. There will be no appeal, there will be no escape, and there will be no return to this Island for either of you.”

With that the guards led the two prisoners into the yard and into the back of a blacked out van. They would not even see the town as they passed through it on the way to the harbour. No chance to say a last goodbye to anyone they knew, simply carted off without anyone knowing they were being deported, and sold.

15 had apologised many time to 27 for getting her into this, but 27 had told her not to worry about it. At least she was not undergoing this on her own, and 15 was lucky that they had not whipped her instead. Being transported and sold may not be ideal, but it was far better than being whipped to death as an example to others.

The guy 15 had trusted, had apparently set her up, which came as no surprise to 27. he had given her clothes, and led her through town, as he had promised, but as they reached the harbour guards had been waiting for them. Immediately they dragged her kicking and screaming to the compound, and had ripped her clothes off, reminding her constantly that the sentence for these crimes was being whipped to death.

It was only when they had brought 27 to the compound as well that 15 discovered that she was not to be whipped, and instead, was to be sold into slavery, with 27.

At the harbour the van moved up close to a waiting cargo ship. The back doors were opened and the two girls dragged out and herded without a word onto the ship. The captain was at the top of the gang plank waiting for them.

“Not bad” he said as he looked them up and down. “This one,” he said, pointing at 15, “may not get the best price, as she is a little older than most others, but the other one should get a good price. She is fit and healthy, and not too old. What are we doing if they don’t sell? Bring them back?”

“No”. said the Justice, who had appeared from behind the girls. “If they don’t sell, dispose of them. The boss doesn’t want them back, but he would rather they be sold, even if 15 doesn’t get a good price. Maybe they could be sold together, but that’s up to you.”

“They will be sold separately” replied the captain. “Its not good to sell slaves who are friends. They tend to spend too much time with each other, and spend much of that time plotting futile escapes. They will be sold separately.”

The captain looked at the brands on the two women. “I like that. It shows they are nothing but chattel.”

Turning to the two girls the captain spoke again “ Once we have left shore you will be put to work. The first thing you need to know is that you have no rights aboard this ship, except one. The right to die if you don’t pull your weight. If you are given an order by myself, or any member of my crew, simply obey. Failure to do so will see you tied to the mast and whipped. You are only worth what you will fetch at market, and until that time you are worth nothing, if you don’t survive to reach market, then you are worth nothing. Your only chance of survival is to obey, do your work, and do it well. You will also undergo slave training while you are on this ship, so that you will fetch a better price at market. Trained slaves fetch more than untrained slaves. And have no doubts in your minds at all, you are slaves and nothing more.”

With that the captain turned on his heels and walked away, leaving two of his crew to move the two girls along the deck and down some wooden step. A heavy door opened and the two girls were thrust into what appeared to be the hold, and the door closed behind them, leaving them alone.

“He cant mean it?” asked 27. “That the only right we have is to die?”

“I think he does” replied 15. “I have bad feelings about this, but I doubt we can do anything to stop what is happening. If they are not going to let us out on deck until we are off shore, I doubt we will be in a position to escape, unless drowning is your idea of freedom.”

“I don’t really feel like drowning today” quipped 27.

A few minutes later there was a hum of engines, and even in the darkness of the hold, the two girls could tell that the ship was in motion. Where ever they were heading for now, it was out of their control.

It was about an hour later when the heavy door opened, and a hidden voice told them to get up on deck.

Struggling in their shackles the two made their way slowly up the wooden steps and onto the deck, the light blinding after their time in darkness.

The captain stood in the centre of the deck waiting for them.

One of the crew came over and removed the chains that linked the girl’s wrists to their ankles.

“as you can see” started the captain, “We are already far from land. We shall be calling at a few more places on the way, to pick up more girls. In the meantime, I want this deck scrubbing, so its clean enough to eat my food off. I have appointed Mr Sharp as gang master for the voyage, and anything he says, you do. I could, of course, tell you that to be whipped would hurt you, but you would never know how much. So for that reason, you are both going to feel the whip before you start work. After feeling it once, you will be highly unlikely to want to feel it again.”

Signalling to Mr Sharp, a heavy man with greying hair, the captain said “Six strokes each if you will Mr Sharp”

“Yes captain” replied the man withdrawing a whip from his belt.

Two men grabbed 15 and moved her to the mast in the centre of the ship, lifting her arms above her head and securing her manacles to a hook.

The sound of the whip slicing through the air coincided with the first scream from 15, as the whip cut its way across her back, the red welt appearing instantly. Even before the scream died on 15’s lips the whip sliced through the air and another scream was wrenched from 15’s throat.

By the time the last stroke landed. 15’s back was covered in red welts, no two on top of each other. She had almost collapsed the hook holding her up, her legs not able to do so.

As the last stroke landed, the two men lifted 15’s manacles from the hook and dragged her to one side, ignoring her tears and her whimpering.

Without a word they advanced on 27, who, at first, tried to struggle. Having seen what had happened to 15, she would have done anything not to be whipped, but the two men were far stronger, and had freedom of movement, dragging her with ease to the mast, and, as they had done with 15, soon had her hands above her head, her manacles hooked up.

27 found herself praying even before the first stroke had landed. The angry searing pain felt as if her back was on fire, the scream dragged from her did nothing to lessen the pain she now felt across her back.

She was sure she could not survive the six strokes, but the gang master ignored her screams and her prayers. The second stroke was again like a line of fire across her back, the scream almost inhuman as she bounced off the mast. Whether or not she felt the last four strokes no-one knew, as 27 made no sound, her body simply bouncing off the mast with each stroke, her brain having thoughtfully sent her into unconsciousness. Even so, the gang master continued his task, regardless of whether or not 27 reacted. She would feel the pain when she regained consciousness.

27’s unconscious body was taken back to the hold, though 15, was left one deck.

“You will now scrub the deck, slave. If you want to refuse, we can always give you another six strokes. Will that be necessary?”

15, still sobbing, shook her head. No matter what else happened, she never again wanted to feel the whip on her back.

When 27 opened her eyes again the first thing she felt was the sheet of fire that was her back. She was not sure which hurt more, being branded or being whipped, but she did know that she wanted neither again. The gang master had not held back when he whipped her putting his full weight behind the strokes, and she  was sure that he had broken flesh at least once, or was it just her imagination?

The heavy door opened and one of the crew entered the hold.

“Come on slave. No time for laying around when there’s work to be done.”

With that the crewman ushered 27 back on deck and guided her to where 15 was busy scrubbing the deck on her hands and knees. “Get on and help her” said the crewman, pushing 27 to her knees.

With no other choice, 27 grabbed a scrubbing brush out of the bucket and joined her friend. The hot sun burned their backs as they worked, bent over. 15 had asked one of the guards for a drink, but he had simply laughed at her and told her to carry one working.

Exhausted the girls eventually collapsed at their task. Only then were they carried back to the hold, where they would stay for the night.

The next morning they were each brought a bowl of food, which, though didn’t look very appetising, would nourish them. The Captain was under instruction to get as munch as he could for them, and skinny slaves didn’t sell well. An hour after breakfast, the girls were back on deck, scrubbing the deck et again. They started at the stern, and slowly made their way towards the bow of the ship.

At one stage, 15 had needed a drink so badly, she drank from her own bucket. 27 turned her head away, but could feel her own thirst getting worse. Eventually, the desire to drink got worse, and, she too, drank from the bucket. The water tastes foul, and she felt herself start to gag, but it was better than thirsting.

For a week the routine continued unbroken, by which time drinking from their buckets was a normal occurrence. The guards simply smiled and allowed them to do so. the antibiotics in their morning food would cure anything they caught from the water.

At the tart of the second week the routine changed. Their morning food was delivered a s normal, and they waited for the inevitable guard to take them to work. But the guard didn’t arrive.

It was 15 who was first to notice that the humming had stopped. The ship wasn’t moving. With no portholes to look out of, neither girl knew what was happening, but 15 suggested that they were picking up supplies, and perhaps new slaves. The Captain had said they would pick others upon the route.

15 proved to be right, as a few hours later the humming restarted, and minutes later the guards escorted someone down the steps, her chains rattling as she entered the hold.

The darkness hid the girl’s features, but her cries told both 15 and 27 that she was a youngish girl. It was only next day, on deck, where they saw the girl tied to the post, the whip master ready, that they realised that the girl could not have been more than 16 years old.

In silence. The two were made to watch the new girl get her initiation whipping, hearing her scream out in agony as each stroke brought a new painful red welt to the girl’s back. Her screams and cries filled the air, but, as he had done with them, the man finished his whipping without pausing, ignoring her screams.

The three of them were put to work, and once again, started at the stern and slowly worked their way towards the bow.

The new girl was slow, and spent most of the day whimpering, and both 15 and 27 took turns in helping her. making sure that she didn’t lag behind.

Later, when they returned to the hold, and the girl had stopped crying, 15 moved over to hug her. it was strange how jealous 27 felt when she saw this. 15 had been her friend and companion since her exile, and it was because of 15 that she was now on this ship, and to see her hugging the new girl, made her jealous. But she knew that the girl needed a hug, and, holding back on her jealousy, she moved over to the girl’s other side, and placed her arm around her shoulders. 15 looked up and smiled.

The next morning the guards brought three bowls of food down, and issued one to each girl. An hour later, and they were back in the old routine. The new girl had still not spoken since her arrival, and was still slow scrubbing, but again, the other two helped her. the new girl bore no brands, and her dark hair seemed to have been cut with a kitchen knife, not s much cut, as hacked away. It was only later they found out she had previously had hair down to her waist, and her kidnappers had cut it off with a knife.

They had also sexually abused her, robbing her of her virtue. Then she had been packed off onto this ship, where she now was. When asked her age by 27, the girl answered that she was just turned sixteen.

15 suggested that, as her and 27 had no names, simply numbers, that the new girl be called 16, because of her age. 27 agreed, and no matter what the new girl thought her name was, she was now, just 16.

Over the next three weeks the shipped docked four more times, and more girls were added to the number in the hold.  With the hold filling up, each night meant new stories. Sore backs and tears, but the deck scrubbing got easier, and soon they discovered that having scrubbed the deck, the captain did not give them more work, but allowed them to use an area of the deck, mid-ships, to relax.

After a month, the girls were now numbering seven, waited one morning for their food. But the guards didn’t arrive. They waited, and waited, and 27 was sure they were much later than normal. And the humming had stopped.

Eventually the hold was opened, and several guards entered, carrying chains and shackles. In turn, each girl’s hands were shackled behind their backs, and a chain with a series of metal collars was fastened to the first girl in line. The next collar went around the next girl. Leaving a space of about six feet in the chain. Soon, all the girls were secured, and the guards told the girls to get on deck.

In the light of the day the slaves could see the island at which their ship was docked. It was very much a pirate island, ships docked along the coastline. The town before them sprawled out in all directions, houses you would expect to see in any pirate film. The streets cobbled and worn.

The girls were ushered towards the gang plank, and off the ship, moving in single file. Hands groped them as they moved, the guards laughing at the lewd comments being made, and making no attempts to stop the groping. Hell. Soon some of these groping hands would be counting out the money to pay for the girl they had bought.

The slaves were herded through town towards a large building at it’s centre. Here, they were ushered into a large room, and the chains removed. There were seven bowls of food on a table at the centre of the room, and as many glasses of water. At least, if this was to be where they are going to be sold, they would share a last meal together.

After the meal the guards removed the bowls. And left the slaves alone, locking the door as they left.

The girls split into small groups, and 27 pulled 15 to one side, and sat in a corner.

“This is the last time I shall see you” she started. “The guard said we are to be sold separately.”

“You never know” replied 15. “The same buyer could bid for both of us”

“I doubt that” answered 27.

“In case we don’t see each other again. You once told me your name, and I told you that you didn’t have one. Mine, before this began, was Carol.”

27 looked over at her friend. In all the time spent together, she had never before offered her name. Tears came to 27’s eyes.

“I am going to miss you. I don’t know what I would have done without the help you gave me when I first went into exile”

“Stop crying” 15 responded. “Or you will have me crying as well”

The two girls huddled together for the last time, weeping on each other’s shoulders.

A few hours later and the door opened. Two guards entered carrying a set of manacles, and walked over to one of the girls who had joined the ship in the last week. Chaining her hands behind her, and fastening a nine inch hobble to her ankles, she was led out.

The auction had begun