Gray (Book 3) by Lou Cadle Page B

“It’s one of the few products we manufacture,” he said. “The soap-makers use metal ice cube trays as forms, and so it comes out shaped like this. Everyone gets one every month, so make it last.”
    “Thanks,” said Coral. She accepted the soap. When Doug left the room, she stripped off her shirt.
    In the dim light, she could see her own body was wasted away from the starvation. Her breasts were nearly flat. Her hipbones stuck out like dangerous weapons. This body was as unfamiliar as a stranger’s.
    She stepped into the water, sluiced it over her legs and began scrubbing.
    The water turned dark with dirt within a minute, but she kept on washing, moving up her body. Dead skin sloughed off under her rough fingertips. Had he given them a washcloth, it’d be peeling off her in strips. By the time she was at her face, the water was filthy, and she wished she had started there. No matter. Better partly clean than not at all. She stepped out, dried herself, then got down on her knees and dipped her head in, scrubbing with the soap at her hair, which was already an inch long.
    There was a knock at the door. “I have your new clothes,” said Abigail’s voice.
    Coral glanced at Benjamin. In the dim light, she could see how much of his muscle had wasted away, too. He had been a strong-looking guy. Now he looked much more vulnerable, as he turned his back to the door again. “Come in,” she said to Abigail.
    Abigail politely averted her eyes. “Here you are. I found some shoes for you, Coral, but they’re a half size too big. I have socks for you both, underwear, two layers of clothes. I figure your jackets were still okay?”
    “They’re fine,” said Coral, “Thank you.” As Abigail turned to leave, she said, “You can’t cut hair, can you?”
    “I cut Doug’s, but I can’t do anything fancy.”
    “Would you trim mine later on? Try and even it up?”
    “Sure. We can do it tomorrow first thing, if you want.”
    “Thank you.”
    “They’re already serving dinner. I’ll wait right here outside the door for you, and take you to our dining room.”
    When she left, Benjamin said, “Sounds like they have assigned rooms for eating.”
    “I guess.” Coral finished drying herself and dressed in the new clothes. They were loose, but that was fine. They’d layer more easily. Maybe, if she was lucky, she’d eat enough here to make them tighter. “Shit,” she murmured.
    “What?” Benjamin was tying his boots.
    She spoke quietly, hoping Abigail wasn’t listening. “I had a thought that made me realize I’m considering staying for a few days. I don’t know if that’s the way to be thinking.”
    “We’ll take it a day at a time,” he said. “Right now, I’m hungry. And they have food.”
    “I’m hungry too,” said Coral. “What do we do with our old clothes?”
    “I guess leave them here for now. We can get them after we eat.”
    “As far as I’m concerned, we can burn mine.”
    “My old jeans are okay.” His new pants were khaki colored but looked as sturdy as jeans. She had been given blue jeans, a sweatshirt with the university logo on it, and a long-sleeved men’s shirt.
    Coral tied her new shoes tight and opened the door. “Is there some sort of laundry set up?” she asked Abigail. “Do you all wash your own clothes? Is there water in the building where you live?”
    Abigail smiled. “There’s a central laundry. I’ll give you a tour tomorrow before I go to work and answer all your questions.”
    “That’ll be okay?” said Benjamin. “They’ll let you?”
    “Sure,” said Abigail, looking confused. “Why wouldn’t they?” She led them through the kitchen and into the hallway. On either side of it, there were open doors, and the sound of silverware banging on plates. At the third door on the right, Abigail entered the room. There were six tables, each seating six to eight. One table had an extra chair squeezed in, and that’s where they sat.
    Doug was there and introduced