KARRIN: Warrior Child Amazon Gift Card Giveaway

This year, I submitted Karrin: Warrior Child to the 2019 Readers Favorite book Awards. 

You know what? 

She didn’t win!!  Boohoo!!  Such a great story too.  But, thems the breaks. 

The award has drawn so much attention, they had record breaking submissions again this year.  I guess I was really lucky to have won 4th and 5th place in 2016 for The Secret of Excalibur and It Lives in the Basement.

To celebrate my loss, and to award my fans and readers, I thought I’d do a giveaway.    Sound good?  Yeah, it does to me too. 

Below is the 3rd chapter from Karrin: Warrior Child.  All you need do is tell me, in the comments, the name of the guard that burned Karrin’s feet.  Easy Peasy.  I do warn you though, this is a dark story , pulls no punches, and there is swearing.  I’m sure that’s one of the main reasons this story wasn’t even considered.  In this afraid to hurt anyone’s feelings society, this book wouldn’t stand a chance with oversensitive, liberal judges. 

What about the prize, you ask? 

Hmm, let me think.  How about 10 copies of the ebook to the winners.  And, the first 2 random winners I pick will also get a $25 Amazon Gift Card.  A person can only win once per giveaway, and entries must be received by September 15, 2019. 

Good luck, and buying the ebook would be awesome too.  Ready?  Set?  Go!!!

Chapter THREE

The clanging of the cell door and a gruff voice yanked Karrin from a fitful slumber.  “Hey, Yol.  Looky here, you got yourself a roommate.”

Karrin rubbed the sleep from her eyes. An older girl with a shaved head stood in the room.

“Yes, Guard,” she mumbled, her brown eyes staring back at Karrin.

“You got the short straw. Too bad for you,” the guard mocked. With a mean laugh, she proceeded down the corridor, banging her electric prod on the closed cell doors.

Shoulders rounded in resignation, Yol stepped to the toilet, hitched up her dress, and sat. “Shit,” she groaned as she leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees.  “What did I do?  Why’d they put a dummy in with me?” 

Sighing heavily, she dropped her head in her hands.  “That means no sleep, and less food.” She spoke so softly Karrin barely made out the words.

Lying on her side, staring straight ahead, Karrin studied the older girl out of the corner of her eyes. Yol wore a blue dress with a white collar. Her bald head gleamed under the harsh lighting. Finished peeing, she punched a gray button on the wall to flush the commode. 

The new cellmate sat on the empty bunk, hands between her scrawny knees, staring at Karrin.  Her pouting lips turned into a smirk when she discovered the growing bruise on the child’s cheek.  Yol’s smile widened when she noticed the burn marks on the younger girl’s foot, knee, and legs.

Leaning sideways, she made a big show of peering up and down the hallway.  She sat back and whispered, “I see you met Matron, retard.” One eyebrow quirked as she pointed at the blistered areas.  “Cassie been here, too.  She likes to leave her mark, the bloody, fucking cow.  Now, listen up, dummy. When dinner comes, I get your share, too.  You understand me, dimwit?”

Karrin didn’t answer. She lay unmoving, staring straight ahead, eyes unblinking.

“Crap,” Yol moaned.  “Hey, dummy, can you, at least, talk?”

Though her eyes burned from not blinking, Karrin laid motionless, her face expressionless.

“Fuck!  You’re not even a half-wit.  You’re a no-wit.  I bet all you do is eat and shit.”  Sliding off her bed, she leaned over Karrin, staring into her vacant eyes.

In a forced whisper, she hissed, “You’re nothing but trouble for me, you little retarded bitch! At least, I’ll get a shot at the Yacht or the Farm ’cause I be the best fifteen-year-old Heroin Processor in the sewers.  I even earn favors from guards.  But, you – you’ll end up in a Prison.”  A sly smile crossed her thin face.  “I been told they do all kinds of nasty things to retards in Prison.”

Laughing, she raised her hand, ready to slap Karrin across the face when she froze, brows knitted in thought.  “Why’d they put you with me?”  She sat back on her bed and nibbled on her thumbnail. 

“Matron never sticks little bitches with us older ones.  So, one of us must be leaving.  Either you’re going with Cook, or…or they picked me for the Yacht.”  Her brown eyes lit up with excitement. “Yeah, that makes sense ’cause I’ll be turning sixteen in a few months.  Oh, I can’t wait to get out of this dump.”  Yol squeaked in delight, hugging herself.

Karrin lay still, trying not to draw attention, when she couldn’t help herself. She blinked.

“Ah ha, you’re not dead after all. At least, not yet.”  At the sound of squeaky wheels echoing down the hallway, the older girl’s head jerked up. Jumping to her feet, she ordered, “Stand up, stupid. Its dinner.”

Stomach grumbling, Karrin swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat, hands clasped in her lap.

A grating noise stopped and started, moving closer, until a cart halted in front of their barred doorway.  A woman as round as she was tall, long, greasy, brown hair stuck to the side of her face, glared with hard eyes at Karrin. She motioned toward the bald girl, and Yol stepped up to the metal bars.  “Who be the other girl?” she asked in a muffled voice.

Yol shrugged her thin shoulders as she peered sideways at her new cellmate.  “I’m not sure, Ginny.  I don’t think she can hear or talk.”

The guard leaned forward, talking softer. “I ain’t supposed to be atellin’ you this, but girl, you’re gonna be a leaving in a few days.”

Yol grabbed the cold bars and jumped up and down.  “I knew it. I knew it,” she squealed.  “As soon as I saw the retard, I knew I was going to the Yacht.  Am I?”

“Shush, girl!” the fat guard admonished as she nervously glanced up and down the corridor.  You ain’t sixteen, yet, Yol, so I ain’t sure. Let me do some checking.  Here, I got to get busy.” She slid one small, chrome tray through the horizontal slot in the bars, and took off, pushing the squeaking cart to the next cell.

Yol took their dinner and sat cross-legged on her bed, cradling the small tray in her lap. Their meal consisted of two pieces of white meat, a hunk of homemade bread, and some gooey stuff splattered in the center of the plate.

The smell of cooked food drifted toward Karrin, making her stomach growl. She hadn’t eaten in several days.

Yol stuffed a large chunk of bread in her mouth and chewed vigorously.  “You be getting a rat leg, and some of the rice, but the bread’s all mine.”  The bully grinned, showing yellow teeth, before pushing another morsel in her mouth.

The famished girl sat still, tiny hands pressed against her rumbling stomach.  Karrin never dealt with hunger before. Not since coming to this place. At least, not as far as she remembered. Even the Felney’s fed her, at least, once a day.

“Ummm.” Yol signed in pleasure and tore off a hunk of meat with her teeth.  “The rat tastes so good, today.” 

She continued making oohing and ahhing noises until the tray was empty. With a smug look, she said, “Oh, I’m sorry, retard. I ate all our dinner.  You should’ve grabbed some when you had the chance. Here, you can chew on the bones.”  The mean girl waved a leg bone in the air, laughing maliciously.

Cruel laughter ringing in her ears, Karrin lay down, faced the gay wall, and curled into a ball.

A few minutes later the squeaky wheels returned and stopped at their cell. 

Yol leaped off her bed and hurried toward the barred doorway.  “What did you find out, Ginny?” She held out the platter.

“Well, Yol, you be a goin’ to the Process Colony on the Island.” Her blue eyes gleamed with spite.

Yol’s mouth dropped, the silver platter hitting the concrete with a loud clang.  She backed away, hands held up, eyes wide with horror.  “No, No, that can’t be!” she wailed. 

“What’s done, is done, girl.  Now, hand me the tray,” Ginny demanded.

Yol jumped to attention and retrieved the fallen plate from the floor.  “Yes, Guard,” she said and handed it through the bars.  

With a curt nod, the obese guard turned away, pushing the noisy cart.

Ashen-faced, the girl plopped down on the hard bed, head in her hands.  “The Process Colony?  I don’t understand.”  She shook her head.  “They told me I be rewarded, not, not…” She broke down, sobbing as she rocked, back and forth.

Karrin felt helpless, not knowing what to do or say. As far as she could tell, any place had to be better than here.

After several minutes, Yol laid down and faced the gray wall, crying. When her sobs turned to soft snores, Karrin slid off the bed onto the ice-cold concrete floor. Her bladder was overflowing, but fear kept her from using the toilet. The bald girl was as mean as the guards, and she didn’t want to be hurt, again. She peered at the sleeping girl.

Look at her, now. She’s as scared as I am.

Karrin winced when she sat on the freezing metal rim of the commode.  The prod marks on her feet and knees burned like fire, so she bit her cheek to stop from crying.  She sniffled and swallowed the pain. Forcing it deep down inside, hiding it away with the loneliness and fear. 

After flushing the toilet, she crept to her bed and lay down against the cold wall, eyes staring at Yol. The older girl flipped on her side and faced Karrin.

Hands tucked under her head, tears shimmering in her eyes, Yolanda said, “I don’t know if;n you understand me, retard, but if’n you get the chance to run – run!  A few girls have escaped outta here.” She sighed.  “I don’t remember anyplace, but the Home.  I was about your age when I got here.  I did everything they asked me to do. Look where that got me.”

She turned on her back and wiped the tears from her eyes.  “I sweated in them sewers.  I learned to mix and cook and process every kind of shit they got down there.  I’m the BEST with the synthetic Heroin.  They told us if’n we worked hard, we’d get rewarded.  They promised.”  She beat her fist against the concrete wall, teeth gritted in anger and betrayal.

“I been lookin’ forward to gettin’ outta here, hoping it’d be the Yacht.   From what we’d been told, going to the Yacht be like going to heaven.  Can you imagine sailing anywhere you wanted?  No more walls, or sewer, or Guards – nothin’, but open sky and water. It’s the closest I’d ever get to bein’ free.”

Yolanda turned her head, her sorrowful eyes staring at Karrin.  “They might as well as kill me if’n I’m goin’ to the Process Colony.  It’s owned by the Warden, on an island by what used to be, called Cuba.  No one lives very long there.”

The distraught girl wiped her nose on her arm. “You know what they do to you?  Not only do the workers make all the poisonous chemicals that are sent here, but they’re also used for testing.   There are terrible stories of how some of the girls have died.” 

Her blue eyes widened in dawning horror.  “If’n the drugs don’t kill us, the guards will. They be all men, and they be allowed to use us any way they want.  If’n I don’t get kilt in the first year, I’ll probably end up pregnant.  You know what they do to pregnant girls?  They be thrown in the testing labs.” 

The distressed girl started sobbing, again.  “You be lookin’ at a dead person.  Shit!  The fucking Processing Colony!”  She rolled on her side and faced the wall, her body shaking as she wailed out her misfortune.

Teeth chattering, Karrin curled into a ball and thought about Yol’s plight. What’s a Processing Colony or Heroin? What happens there? Is it worse than this place? The little girl shuddered, but not from the cold.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, but her cellmate had already cried herself to sleep. 

An hour later, Karrin drifted off, to be woken by the jolt of an electric prod.  Without thinking, she screamed in pain, which rewarded her with another jab to her feet.

“Got you good, dimwit,” snickered a short, Hispanic guard as she strolled past their barred door, patting her rod.

Once the guard disappeared down the corridor, Yol sat up and wrapped her arms around her legs. “Since you be the new retard on the block, you be easy pickings for the guards.  If’n you hear footsteps, get your ass ready.  They be comin’ for you. Since you also be an unwanted, they can’t get rid of you, in case your parents want you back.  Otherwise, Matron might lock you in with her boys.”

The six-year-old child shrugged, not understanding the implications of being locked up with boys.

Yol huffed in exasperation. “You don’t know. Some of the girls who do the cleanup in the mornings said when a girl gets locked up with them, all that’s left are pieces of bodies. So, you be lucky your family didn’t want you.  You got, at least, six months before you be fair game.  And, don’t be acting too crazy, or you be endin’ up in the incinerator, alive.”  She shuddered.  “I don’t know what be worse – bein’ torn apart or bein’ burned alive.”

Horrific images of being incinerated alive kept Karrin awake the rest of the night. She laid huddled on her cold bed, ears straining for any sound of footsteps coming down the hallway. 

Three more times different guards paid a visit to her cell and slapped prods on her feet.  Each time, Karrin gritted her teeth and clutched her oversized dress as her body shook from the electric current. She never made a noise.  Not even a whimper. 

One guard became so angry, she jabbed Karrin, over and over, until her battery pack went dead.  Calling her names, which the little girl never heard before, the furious tormentor stomped off down the corridor.

The fifth time footsteps came up the hallway, Karrin squeezed her eyes closed and tensed up for the jarring pain. Nothing happened. Instead, the door clanged open and a loud voice boomed out, “Karen 1685, stand up.”

Karrin jumped off the bed and stared up at the tallest, most muscle-bound woman she’d ever seen.  Heart pounding in her chest, she felt like a mouse about to be trampled by an elephant.

Hands on hips, the guard scowled down at her, bushy eyebrows a single line across her forehead. “Well?  We ain’t got all day.  Put them shoes on.” 

She shook her massive head, snorting.  “Why’d they give me a fecking retard?  You earn your keep or you’ll be a part of dinner, you understand?  Now, put them shoes on and MOVE!”

Grimacing, Karrin quickly slipped her burnt feet into the little rubber thongs. 

The mammoth woman grabbed her bony arm and yanked her out the doorway.

Eyes filled with pity, Yol muttered, “COOK.  Oh, fuck. You be as dead as me.”