Pieces of Autumn by Mara Black Page B

bridges, in gutters. Desperate. Close to death. Same as they do with the girls. Stoker only works by preying on the weak."
    My mind was racing. It had never occurred to me that these sleek, well-dressed figures had once been holed up in shantytowns and abandoned bus stations, just like I was.
    "At first," he said, "they feed us the same story they feed everyone else. At first it's just about going to pick them up, doing the cursory examination, asking a few questions, leading them around. We're told to give orders. Bark at them. Snap our fingers. So they'll learn to obey without questioning. And that's how it starts."
    His mouth twitched.
    "Small things," he said. "At first."
    I held my breath.
    He went on. "Then, inch by inch, their demands increase. We're told to hurt them. Debase them. Treat them as less than human. We're told it's a kindness. They need to be trained. They're practically feral, they need to be made to heel ."
    My throat was like a desert. I tried to swallow.
    Tate broke slaves. That was his purpose. To cause pain. To harm them. That was the darkness I saw in his eyes - the cold disregard he felt for me. I was nothing more than an object to him. Something that needed to be broken in.  
    "Tate was one of the best," Joshua went on. "Scratch that - the best. This was years ago, but people are still talking about it. The big boss at the time, his name was Mr. Holland - he was particularly proud of him. You have to understand, they break people down. I trained for months to resist their techniques, so I could retain some semblance of my sanity. It's so subtle, and so flawlessly done. You always hear about things like this - the Milgram experiment, the Nazis, the Manson family. And you like to think you'd be the one to push back. But these were just ordinary men, feeling lost and desperate. No one likes to think it's possible. I'm here to tell you that it is.
    "If you push back, if you try to protest - well." His mouth twitched again. "That's when they bring you in the boardroom to have a private conversation. It happened to nearly all of us, at some point. Even the sadistic bastards who enjoyed it at first, who justified it, at some point they'd be pushed too far. They'd say no.  
    "And that's when they offer you the choice."
    My hands were trembling in my lap. I tried to keep still, but it was impossible.
    "They offer each one of us the same choice." He sucked in a breath, eyes darting around the room, like he was afraid we might be overheard. "They can sell our bodies, or we can help them sell the girls'."
    My heartbeat pounded in my throat. "No," I said. "That's..."
    Joshua's mouth was a thin line. "I made the choice I thought would serve my work. I told myself it wasn't cowardice. I had to be close to the upper echelon, and I couldn't do that as chattel. But every day, I felt like I chose wrong. Even though I know it doesn't matter to them. One way or the other, the girls will come. One way or another, they'll be broken. Whether it's me or someone else, who cares? Why should I suffer when someone else can suffer in my place?"
    My ears were ringing.
    Joshua was sitting there silent, staring at the floor with hollow eyes. But he wasn't finished.  
    "What else?" I demanded. "There's something else. I can tell."
    "I don't know if it's true," he said, very quietly. "I don't know if I should. It's not my story to tell."
    I shook my head, confused, frustrated. "I don't understand. What do you mean?"
    "It's just a legend," he said. "I don't -"
    The floor creaked, moments before Tate appeared again.
    "I'm sorry," he said, not sounding in the least bit apologetic. "But I'm going to have to ask you to leave, Joshua. You're upsetting her. She needs her rest."
    The sound of his voice chilled me. Putting on a show of being a normal person, who actually cared about me. Who cared if I was upset, or tired, or needed rest.
    Joshua's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at Tate. It was almost a challenge. I didn't like the