Audrey Durwood watched from her window as her father’s operation moved like clockwork outside. Shipments and construction were always on time at the Durwood estate, making them very predictable. Stowing away on a shipment to a nearby settlement then finding passage to the northern settlements was her fool proof plan. Just as long as she could convince Belle to accompany her. If not, she would be tracked down before the shipment reached its destination. Audrey dreamed of life in the northern settlements, often referred to as the ‘super settlements’ by outsiders. Northerners lived directly on the ruins of the massive citadels of days past. Audrey would become a Scav, living independently by collecting and selling relics from ruins. Slave labor still existed in the north, but Audrey always believed that it was not as bad there as it was here. And anything was better than living under the Durwood roof. There were also rumors of an anti-slavery group seeking to return the enslaved back to their nomadic lifestyles. It wasn't perfect, but Audrey knew she could make a life in the north, she just had to get there.

The daydream was interrupted when Belle awoke. She gave her usual greeting then waited to follow Audrey. The two had built a rhythm over the passing week. Even Audrey’s  attempts to evade Belle were part of the daily routine. Right after breakfast, Audrey took off full sprint to the garage behind the factory. Belle followed as she always did. She stood with Audrey inside the empty garage, the fresh scent of the trucks still in the air. 

“Hey Belle, I have a favor to ask of you.” Audrey said as she caught her breath.

Belle responded with a quick nod, waiting for the request. 

“Well, really it's a trade” Audrey leaned in closely as she continued. “My freedom...for your freedom.” 

The whisper echoed inside of Belle’s head as she processed the stunning offer. 

“I can deactivate your collar with my fathers’ spare control band, then we can both escape on a shipment truck.”

Belle had sobered by the end of the offer. She could only half consider what Audrey was saying. Finally she responded,  “Is that what you told Beauty?”

Audrey had no reply other than the truth. And she was still unable to admit her guilt in the death of her friend. They had no plan. They had no time. 

“No.” was all Audrey could manage as she turned to leave the garage. 

Just outside two workers were having a hurried conversation.  Audrey took to her habit of eavesdropping as she shushed Belle.

“Got one loose in Harristown, they said”

“A runner?”

“Yeah, no collar either. Just tearing the town apart.”

“Did they put it down yet?”

“Not yet, Mad is sending over a few armed hands to protect the grid.”

Mad was a nickname for Master A. Durwood  of the Durwood Estate, that both slaves and workers used. The conversation faded as the two men continued their work elsewhere. Could it be him? Audrey slid past the cracked doors of the garage and Belle followed without a word. They returned to the Durwood estate where the master was living up to his nickname.

A bee hive of workers, slaves, and hired guns fly around the compound under the strict order of Master Durwood, who stood in the middle of the frenzy. Trucks were loaded and sent away one after another. Audrey stood a safe distance away, cursing her luck. She should have known that her father would mobilize quickly to protect his precious grid. Now was the time to sneak aboard a truck unnoticed but Belle would surely stop her. No, it's now or never. Audrey cut her reasoning with the hard truth. She entered the frenzy ahead with Belle hot on her heels. Audrey used the chaos to weave in and out of the line of workers and slaves loading the trucks. Belle followed as best as she could, never giving more than a shadow’s length of distance. They dodged shipments of weapons, supplies and repair parts as they raced around the loading zones.

A distracted worker drops their load and breaks the flow of traffic. Audrey rushed into the crowd building up behind the clumsy worker. Belle was close behind. Durwood noticed the stoppage and was stomping over to re-establish order. With one hand, the master lifted the worker back to his feet. 

“Do you know how much this cargo is worth?” 

The question could barely escape Durward's clenched teeth. The worker was dumbfounded with fear. He looked around the crowd for help and saw a slave standing amongst the workers. 

“You idiot!” The worker pointed desperately at the slave, who stood as unaware as everyone else who had gathered. Durwood glared at the slave, then back at the worker.

“I asked you a question. Then you insult my intelligence.”

The worker stared back at Durwood, holding back tears as he trembled.

“Blaming a slave won't get you out of this. Do you think I can’t see everything that goes on in my compound?”

The worker hit the ground and was pummeled by the most expensive pair of boots he had ever seen. The master stormed away, “Your debt has increased, contract extended and shift changed to 12 hours.” Durwood stopped to inspect his boots. 

“One more infraction and payment of your debt is expected immediately. Inability to pay means that your life is forfeit to me. So by all means, go ahead and break something else. I can always use another slave.” 

The master scanned the crowd until he was satisfied that everyone was terrified. “Now, get back to work”. Belle was left standing alone when the crowd dispersed and work continued. She watched as the beaten worker collected the broken cargo. No matter how many times she was bought and sold, every compound was the same. The only difference was that the next master was always crueler than the last. Workers who become slaves never last more than a week of physical labor. Slavery was a death sentence.

But the risk of slavery was accepted by anyone who was indebted to a master of a compound. Most workers were farmers, traders or scavengers that couldn't make it on their own. In order to survive they enter into a contract with a compound owner for land and supplies. In exchange they work in any capacity the master dictates per the agreement. Sometimes even raiders enter into contracts as hired guns or overseers at a compound. The hierarchy is simple to figure out but in terms of value an unskilled worker was lower than a slave. And were often treated as such. Belle had witnessed slaves and workers alike killed for the smallest of mistakes. So she was surprised to see that Durwood let the worker survive. But before she could consider mercy as the reason, she remembered how calculating and cruel Durwood was. He was probably avoiding any decrease in productivity and would kill the worker at a later time.

It took a moment to realize that Audrey was gone. Belle darted from one truck to another until she noticed the hem of a dress trapped under a closed truck door. Belle could hardly react as the truck already pulled away. She had to stop it or Audrey would escape. She ran as hard as she could. The truck could be stopped before it reached the main road. Belle cut across the loading zones and raced right past Durwood. 

Master Durwood watched as Belle, who should be with Audrey, ran full speed towards the main road; beyond the range of his control band. 

He lifted his arm, “CC: Commands Display”. The screen on his wrist unfolded with three options. In yellow, choke. In blue, shock. And in red, kill.

Belle was able to get ahead of the truck and blocked its path. The driver screeched to a stop and got out of the vehicle enraged and confused. Durwood was already in a car and expecting a good explanation from Belle. Without a word she pointed to the hem of Audrey’s dress. The driver lifted the door to release a torn piece of cloth to the wind.