Chapter 69: The Cages

My friends and the train crew stand transfixed by the sight of the cages, even Beckett frozen next to me, gazing in real horror at the traps before us. Four of the large metal squares stand side by side, the slats made from scrounged steel, tied together with wire and rope. But the kids inside, the cattle for the Wastes, don't look strong enough to break themselves free even from such feeble attempts to hold them.

In fact, aside from one or two who moan and watch us with terrified eyes, filth covered bodies nearly naked but for scraps of torn rags to cover them, the other handful who lie inside, filthy bodies exposed to the air, look dead.

Brick roars, backpedals, sudden revulsion on his face. His action breaks the spell as he turns, heads toward me only to be stopped by a Waste, a Shamble on a leash driving him back.