A Thin of Red

Sunrise. Golden hues tinted red reached to chase away the darkness. Thorns of morning poked away, and the moon fell back into nothing. Time stirred, and slumber ended. No silver linings. Only a thin, dark red thread held the keys of freedom to the one now awoken.

Hoy was barely eleven-years-old. His small thin body shook as his arms reached over his head. He let a little yawn slip out but not too loudly to alert the others. He would be ready for them, for any torment that they had in store, and hope laid wrapped around his hand, a thin, dark red thread. Now, if only he could go home, he thought.

The other boys moved slowly from their small, dirty cots. They ranged from eight-years-old to twelve. Their clothes hung off of them, and their bare feet scratched against the cement floor. They yawned and stumbled, and Hoy took his place behind them. And they slowly entered the next room.

Taking a seat at a small, wooden table, Hoy gently placed the thin, dark red thread around a sewing wheel. He kicked at the pedals underneath him and started to weave the thread around and around, into a dark red shirt. His small eyes scaled the room around him, a room that barely had any windows. The air was sour, and the noise of the other machines filled his ears. Today would be another long day.

"If it isn't your royal highness." Gery was the oldest boy there, twelve, and he would be the first to leave. Well, he would've been the first to leave, if not for Hoy's sudden talent. "I sure would like to know where you find that thread." Hoy ignored him, sewing away. "Maybe you stole it. You stole it from me. I'm the one that's getting out of here. Not you!" Hoy continued to sew his shirt. "You little snot," Gery spat at him, advancing toward him with his fists pulled tight.

A large shadow fell over Gery. A big, burly man named Xel stood behind him. His large hands grabbed Gery by the shoulders, and he threw him backward, watching Gery land hard on the floor. "Return to work, Gery," he said to him. "I expect double today."

"But that's not fair!"

"I. Don't. Care."

Gery slowly rose from the hard, cold floor. He dusted himself off, ignoring the eyes from the other boys. He just glared at Hoy, who avoided his gaze, but he didn't care. Slowly, he then stormed away.

"Good work, Hoy," Xel said. "Keep it up, and you'll be released as early as next month from service." He dropped a piece of dried bread next to Hoy.

Hoy's mouth watered at the sight of the bread. Without hesitation, he shoved it into his mouth, fearing that Xel would take it back. It would be a mean trick, but Xel was a mean man. He only gave Hoy a break because of what he could sew, and the other boys were jealous. But Hoy didn't care. He just wanted to go back home.

"Damn shame, Henur went missing." Xel gazed down at Hoy with a mixture of respect and suspicion. "He would have been thrilled at your sudden skill, which started right after his disappearance." He rubbed his chin, and Hoy stopped chewing. "Well, keep working." He walked away.

Hoy finished the pieces of bread that were still in his mouth. His stomach rumbled gratitude, but it was still hours away from a small lunch. Then, it would be back to work until nightfall. Only then would he be allowed to rest or to roam free. As he kicked the pedals again, moving into high swing, he felt eyes on him, and he knew that it was Gery still glaring at him from a table not too far away.

Hours slowly pulled away. Hoy's feet were begging for relief. His fingers itched and bled. Several dark red items were folded ever so neatly beside him, and his hard work would be the wealth of the man that still held his fate. But he would be going home soon, he thought. He would be going home, and Gery would remain behind. He didn't care. He had to get out of here before this job consumed him like so many other boys before him, boys that left here as zombies, and that would not be his fate.

Night fell, and his long day ended. Hoy crawled into his cot, consoling all the aches and pains that racked his body. His feet, his hands twitched. His mouth was dry. He would wait, wait for the other boys to fall asleep, and then he would make his move. It was the only way to save his life.

A short time later, Hoy left his cot. He squeezed in-between the wall between this one and a storage closet. Once in the closet, he crawled through a broken window, dropping onto the ground outside. His body cursed him for such action, but he was used to it. And he made his way over to a large, oak tree, but what he failed to realize was that Gery was following him.

Hoy knelt beside the large, oak tree. He began to pull leaves away from a large stump. He was used to the dirt, and he smiled as if seeing an old friend. He started to say something, but then Gery grabbed him and threw him against the tree. Hoy struck his head against the hard wood, drawing blood.

"Aha," Gery declared. "I caught you, you little snot!" He then looked down at the stump, and his mouth fell open.

The large stump was not part of the tree. It was the remains of Henur, a sixty-two-year-old tyrant that had captivated the boys in fear. He went missing only a few weeks ago. Nobody asked why because he was another very disliked man. Now, what was left of him was covered with little, red ants, who wove in-between his flesh, drawing out more red thread.

"Thank you."

Gery was rooted where he stood. He shook slightly from fear. He licked his lips, trying to think of something to say. He knew his life was now in danger, but Hoy was no threat. He was a little snot, and seeing blood trickle down his small forehead made him smile. But Hoy smiled back.

"They're about finished with him."

"So?" Gery swallowed hard.

"So, they are helping me." Hoy continued to sit against the tree. "Helping me to get out of here, and for them to help me, I need more thread."

"More thread? Where are you going to get more thread?"

"From you." He touched the cut on the side of his head and winced. "You should not have followed me. Henur made the same mistake."

"You are not turning me into that!" Gery pointed at Henur, but he knew it was already too late.

"It's too late." Hoy confirmed his worst thoughts. "Look." He pointed at Gery.

Gery looked down at himself. His body was covered with little, red ants. "No," he screamed, and they quickly filled his mouth. He gagged, falling to the ground, and he began to writhe in pain. And his gaze met Hoy's, who was sorry for his fate, but then he merely shrugged.

"Good-bye, Gery." Hoy stood up from the tree and again touched his cut. "I shall miss you when nobody else will." He watched the red ants weave in-between Gery's flesh as Gery screamed in pain. "Keep working, my friends. We're almost home free."

As Hoy walked away, he knew Gery would soon be dead. His misery finally over, and Gery would not leave here as a zombie. He would be the one to save Hoy's life when revenge nearly made him want to take it away, but the red thread of his life would be the keys to Hoy's freedom. I can go home, he thought. I can go home and laugh and play like an ordinary child, and he imagined his parents wrapping their arms tight around his body, never to let go again. He was sorry that Gery had to be the one because he thought it would be Xel, another monster replaced by another monster to torment the boys, but fate was a funny thing. And his future was finally bright like sunrise over an ending darkness, his silver lining.