***
{Inside The Projection}
Malik took out the keys, his hands still slick with the slavers' blood.
He unlocked the first cage.
Then the next.
And the next.
When he was done, he tossed them away and turned to the girls inside.
Damn, it was a grim sight.
They were a mess of trembling bodies, their faces streaked with dirt and dried tears.
Their hair hung in tangled mats, some strands sticking to their sweaty foreheads.
Most of them couldn't have been older than eight or nine, yet to hit puberty.
Skinny as Hell, they clung to each other like it was the only thing keeping them alive.
A shield from whatever nightmare they were in.
The flickering campfire light wasn't doing them any favors either.
It made the hollow look in their eyes even worse—eyes that had seen way too much shit.
Gone through much, endured too much.
