Naomi Grim: Complete Novel (Parts 1-4) (The Silver Scythe Chronicles) by Tiffany Nicole Smith Page A

thankful for even
that. By the time I had received my food, most of the tables were full. I
squeezed myself on the end of one bench. The men gave me strange looks.
         My
eyes stayed on one man in particular who had tattoos all over his face. He
caught me looking and nodded at me. I nodded back and then looked away. I
noticed no one spoke throughout the room as guards stood around tapping
nightsticks in their hands.
         I
dug in to my breakfast. The mush had no flavor whatsoever. It at least filled me
so my belly  stopped making noises. I gnawed on the bread, but it was almost
impossible to tear. I eventually gave up and left it on my tray. A man with
long stringy black hair sitting across from me pointed at the chewed-on bread.
I nodded, and he took it from my tray with a grateful look. I wondered when the
next meal would come and if the food would be any better.
         A
bell rang. It reminded me of the school bells at Kennedy High. At once,
everyone stood and took their trays to the large containers that stood against
the wall. I grabbed my tray and followed the men from my table. There were
separate containers for trays, bowls, cups, and silverware. Under the watchful
eyes of several guards, I put my dishes in the proper bins.
          "Block
C, you have dish duty," a guard announced over the bullhorn. I heard a few
groans. Guards stood around as the prisoners dispersed into different
locations. I stood in their midst, getting pushed and jostled. I had no idea
where to go.
         "Naomi,
you go back to your cell," said a voice from behind me.
         I
turned to see Ravi, the guard who had escorted me to my cell the night before.
"Where's everyone else going?"
         "To
do their jobs. But you don't get to do that."
         Gattica's
main purpose was free labor. The prisoners were trained to make almost
everything we used in Nowhere—clothing, jewelry, furniture, you name it.
         "I
have to just sit in my cell for the rest of the day?"
         Ravi
put his hand on my shoulder, pushing me along. "That's solitary
confinement. You're lucky you got out to eat."
         Ravi
escorted me to my cell, and I stood in the doorway. I would go crazy if I had
to spend the day trapped in that room. "Ravi, please. I only have three
days to live. Give me a break."
         He
shook his head. "Can't. Orders are orders."
         "Come
on. What's going to happen? It's not like I'm going anywhere."
         Ravi
thought for a moment. "I'll let you in a work room for a half hour and
that's it."
     At least that was something. "Thanks, so much."
         Ravi
took me to a room filled wall to wall with long tables. Men hammered an
assortment of metal objects and fit things together. "This is the room
where they make automobile parts. Or I could take you where the women are
making jewelry."
         "This
is fine," I said. I figured if I could get any information about the
upcoming rebellion, it would be from the men.
         "There's
an empty seat over there." Ravi pointed at a table closest to the east
wall.
         I
took a seat in the hard, rusted chair.
         A
man in a guard's uniform came over. "We're making carburetors today. You
want to fit—" The rest of what he said sounded like a foreign language.
         I
watched the man sitting next to me. His filthy hands did their job
effortlessly. I'd just copy what he was doing.
         "Got
it?" the man asked.
         I
nodded and dug into the box in the middle of the table for some parts. All
around me, men worked like robots focused on their tasks. No one said a word. 
         "Pssst,"
someone hissed.
         I
looked down the table. It took me a moment to place the familiar face.
         "Starkin?"
I asked a bit too loudly.
         A
guard against the wall looked in my direction and then continued to look
straight ahead. Starkin was the boy Bram had fought when we went to Litropolis.
He was here because of my