by J. B. Havens
People were trickling out of their buildings, drawn to the sound. Mostly men with only a few women formed a circle around the group. The big black man, shouted and jerked the woman back and forth by the arm. He was waving them back, defending his right to her apparently. She kept her head down and didn’t respond to the taunting.
“You got yourself in a pickle didn’t you, sweetheart?” Richard said under his breath. He wasn’t sure what drew him to her, maybe it was the determined set of her jaw or the stiffness of her shoulders, but he saw something in her worth saving. This world was swirling down the giant cosmic toilet and would need women and men like her.
As soon as dark fell, he would sneak in and grab her. Taking a drink from his canteen, he leaned back against the rough bark of the tree. Rest now, he thought, you’re going to need it. He didn’t think he’d be getting her out of there without a fight.
****
His grip on my arm was biting, I could almost feel the bruise forming. The heat was making my dizziness worse, the sun beating down on my head. If I passed out again, I’d wake up in a worse state then what I was already in. I clung to consciousness with a gritty determination. The pounding in my head was so bad I could hardly make out what these bastards were saying. It was like I was underwater, all the words sounded thick and indistinguishable from the throbbing in my temples.
“Back off! I found her, she’s mine!” Bubba was shouting, the grip on my arm only tightening further as I was tugged back and forth.
Ace lunged for me, whether he was trying to steal me from his friend or just grope me, I didn’t know. Bubba’s meaty fist snapped out, knocking the smaller man flat on his back. Blood leaked out of the corner of his mouth, he laid there not moving—out cold.
The hit seemed to snap the rest of the crowd into action, they scurried away like cockroaches under a kitchen light.
“Come on,” Bubba said, hauling me behind him as if I has a choice in the matter.
Opening the door to the cabin-like building, he shoved me inside. I tripped and landed hard on my hands and knees. My brain felt like it was going to explode out of my eye sockets and bile rose up in my throat. I twisted to the side, puking on his dirty brown boots. Serves him right, the fucker. My glee was short lived as the breath was knocked from my lungs by his shit kickers.
“Ugh…” I moaned in agony as he kicked me again, I felt a rib snap and pain blurred my vision. Great, two broken ribs…
“Fucking bitch.” He was breathing hard, gasping for air like a lathered horse. The fucker was the size of one, so it fit.
“S-stop…” I begged, hating that I did, but willing to just about anything to make him stop kicking me. My stomach was balled up in a twisting knot of agony. If I had anything left to throw up, I think I would have.
“Cross me again and you’ll get worse. I’d cut your nose off if I was willing to ruin your pretty face.” His stupid redneck accent fell away like leaves in the fall. I would have to be careful of him, besides his size, he was hiding a keen intelligence. “Get the fuck over there.” He pointed to a small pile of ratty blankets in the corner. “Move and I’ll give you to Ace and that boy doesn’t do gentle. He loves ripping girls up and throwing them away. He won’t go easy on you either, because you teased him.” Grabbing a fistful of my hair, he jerked my head up, forcing me to meet his eyes that were the color of dirty dishwater. “Got me?”
“Y-yes.”
He flung me backward, my head hitting the floor with a hollow sound. “Good. If you behave I’ll get you some food and water. If not, I’ll rape you every day until you die of thirst.” The door slammed shut behind him and a bar dropped down across it, locking me in.
I felt despair creeping in around me, but I wouldn’t give in. I was down, but not out. Slowly crawling on my hands and knees, I painfully made it to the make-shift pallet. Carefully lowering myself down, I tried to find a comfortable position. Nothing worked. My entire body was beaten and pulsing with pain. After several attempts, I managed to get comfortable enough that I could pass out. My last thought before my eyes shut was that I hoped I woke up. Head injuries are tricky bitches…
Chapter 4
Richard watched the sun set through the tree branches in a spectacular blaze of color. Shortly after their arrival, the woman had been hauled into and locked inside one of the larger cabins. No one has gone in or out of it since. The men had all grouped around various fire rings, eating and drinking. The few women that were visible were dressed in rags and bruises. Most were nearly skeletal with hunger.
There was an older man walking back and forth between the fire rings, stopping and talking with the men. Richard pegged him for the leader of this band of degenerates. They looked like they’d been here for some time and were maybe not even aware of the martial law. The sudden downslide of society hasn’t seem to affect them too much. He’d have to wait a little longer, until they started falling asleep to go in and get the girl.
With no back-up it would be suicide to storm the camp. Nervousness gripped him in a terrible vise. He was in the National Guard, a weekend warrior, he’d never been deployed or seen combat. He had the training, but not the experience. There was no turning back now, he had to save her. He wasn’t sure what it was that was forcing him forward. He’d left his unit only hours ago, refusing to drag people from their homes or blockade towns. This was America dammit, the military should be fighting for the people, not against them on the whim of a self-important dictator. Maybe he saw this as his opportunity at redemption? The shame of desertion was growing by the hour. Focusing on rescuing this damsel was keeping him from running back to his unit.
The light was failing even more, he needed to get into position before complete darkness fell. Working his way down and out of the tree, he was silent and precise in his movements. He may not have seen any combat, but he’d spent most of his formative years hunting with his father in forests very similar to this one. He knew how to be quiet.
Crouching in the foliage at the base of the tree, he checked his rifle and switched off the safety. The hope was to get in and out without firing a shot, but he wasn’t going in unprepared. He pulled his knife and clutched it in his gloved left hand. He didn’t let thoughts of killing a man for the first time enter his mind. Self-deprecating thoughts would get himself and the girl killed. He would get her out of this camp first, then worry about his sanity later.
Watching on, he counted the men. Slowly at first, then in groups they left their fires and hauled themselves to their cabins or tents. It didn’t take long before the clearing was empty. There must be guards posted—Richard waited a little longer. Sure enough, three men emerged and split up into a perimeter patrol. The first of the three walked directly to his position. The shadowy darkness made it difficult to distinguish his features. He didn’t need nor care what he looked like anyway, the goal was to sneak to the large, mashup of a cabin directly in front of him.
“Go… keep going,” he muttered under his breath, trying to mentally nudge the man along. Finally the guard was out of sight, he crouched and quickly ran straight to the cabin. The man who’d taken the woman was in there with her now. His hope was that the door was both unlocked and that he would be able to surprise the bastard.
There were two crude steps leading up into the cabin, uneven and wobbly. He placed his boots carefully, not wanting to alert those inside to his presence. His rifle was heavy, weighing on him. The knife in his fist wavered slightly. Sweat was running into his eyes, but not from the heat. He was scared—that he would fail and that he wouldn’t.
The knob twisted easily under his hand, the door edging open a slow inch at a time. He was tense and ready; anticipating a squeal of hinges or a shotgun in his face. None of those happened. He slid through the door, grateful for his slim build. The moonlight was bright and once the door shut behind him, he was plunged into near blackness.
Richard stood frozen, listening to the awful sounds filling the room. Heavy breathing and grunts, like those of a
n animal.
“Stop fighting me, bitch, and I’ll try not to hurt you. Keep up your biting and kicking and I’ll make sure you don’t walk right for a week.” A gruff voice echoed through the room.
“Fuck off, you twat-faced mother-fucker.” The curses that emitted from her mouth would do any drill sergeant proud. His eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness and he could make out the shape of the would-be rapist atop the smaller figure of the girl. The bastard’s back was to him, perfect for an ambush.
The harsh and unmistakable sound of a palm cracking against her cheek sprung him into action. Flipping his hold the knife for an upward blow, Richard rushed forward—bending down and grabbing a fist full of the bastard’s slimy, dreadlocked hair he moved to drive the blade up through the base of his skull.
An elbow caught him in the jaw, knocking him back a few steps. Dazed from the painful hit he shook his head, attempting to clear it. His intended victim rushed him, arms splaying wide in a tackle. They went down with a crash, the other man’s considerable weight crushing him into the bare boards of the floor and knocking the breath from his lungs.
“Oomph!” The noise forced from Richard’s chest. He narrowly ducked a right hook, the fucker’s fists were the size of small hams. He’d dropped his knife during the tackle and his rifle was trapped against his body. He fumbled for his side arm, desperate to hold off the throttling coming his way. He saw the woman stand up behind their struggling bodies, his knife safe in her grasp.
“Time to die, Bubba.” Her calm voice stilled his movements in surprise. His attacker stiffened, gasping as blood spewed from his mouth. Richard closed his eyes at the last second and turned his head. Catching most of the blood on his cheek and neck. The man died in seconds, bled out like a hog at a Thanksgiving butchering.
“G-get him off.” Richard ground out, the weight of the dead giant smashing him into the floor and stealing the little air he’d managed to get.
“Sure.” She replied calmly. Shoving together, they managed to roll the body off and to the side. The knife protruded from the base of the man’s neck, blood colored black in the darkness created a huge wet spot on the back of his ratty shirt.
She held out a hand, barely discernable in the darkness, offering to help him to his feet. He took it.
“Thanks for the assist.” He blushed, grateful she couldn’t see it.
“Likewise. Talk about arriving in the nick of time.” Wiping her sweaty brow, her shaking hands betrayed her true emotions. She may have a calm exterior, but she was just has rattled as he was.
Her words and cavalier attitude surprised him. Here he thought he’d be rescuing a damsel in distress. She was no damsel. “Sure. Let’s get the fuck out of here. There are three guards we have to sneak past.” Bending down, he retrieved his knife, pulling it free of Bubba with an awful sucking noise.
“One second.” She fumbled around the dark room, seemingly searching for something. A muffled ‘a-ha!’ had her back at his side. She was now wearing a backpack, the same type used for hiking. “Let’s go.”
Opening the door no more than an inch she peeked out, scanning the area. Waving him forward and hissing for him to shut the door behind him, she led the way into the forest. Once they hit the tree line, they started running. Ducking branches and side-stepping bushes they rushed headlong into the cover and sanctuary of the woods.
They ran for what felt like hours but was really less than thirty minutes or so, according to the glowing numbers on his watch. “Lady, we’re good. We have a great head start. We need to check our direction and stop running full out, not paying attention to where we’re going.”
Skipping to a stop, she paced slowly, sipping from her canteen. “Name isn’t lady. It’s Molly Everett and you may have no clue where you are, but I do. I’m going where I was headed before I hit that fucking deer.”
Moonlight broke through the trees and he got his first good look at her. Close cropped black hair, matted with blood and dirt surrounded a pixie-like delicate face. Heavy bruises topped with swelling along her jaw distorted her features, but he could still see that she was very pretty. She was pale and sweating, pain pulling her mouth down in a severe line. He could see the bump on her head even in the dark.
As he looked on, her face washed out even more, her full lips turned white and her eyes rolled back in her head. He grabbed her before she could hit the dirt.
Slowly lowering her down, he slipped her pack off and set it aside. He needed a second to think. They couldn’t stay here, they still weren’t far enough from the camp. Once Bubba’s body was discovered, they’d be searching for her. They were outnumbered and outgunned, their only hope of escape was to put as much distance between them as possible.
Laying her gently on her back, he put the pack on, adjusting the straps to fit his larger frame. He was taller than her, but she was built. He tried to let the knowledge that she was in excellent shape and better equipped to deal with this situation than he was not get to him. Making sure the safety was on his rifle, he swung her up and into his arms. With her and the gear he was no doubt carrying over two hundred pounds. He wouldn’t be able to do it forever, even less so in this oppressive heat, but every step he got them further from that camp was essential to their survival. She’d come around soon, he hoped, and could direct him which way she was headed.
Settling her weight more comfortably against his chest, he took a step forward, followed by another and then another.
Chapter 5
Intense heat and jostling woke me. It wasn’t dissimilar to when I was in the back of the truck. The abstract feeling of floating. The man who’d attempted to rescue me was carrying me. We’d more or less rescued each other.
“P-put me down.” My throat was dry and scratchy, the words nearly stuck in my throat. My tongue felt like a hunk of sandpaper in my mouth.
“Good, you’re awake.” Slowly lowering my legs first, he set me on my feet, while keeping an arm around my waist. My head was swimming with dizziness and throbbing in agony. It would be days until the headache fully abated.
I shoved away from him, needing some space. He was a stranger and I’d just about had my fill of strange men. The memory of Bubba’s hands pawing at my body too new and fresh.
“Listen, thanks for the help or whatever, but I’m good now. You can be on your way.” My feet felt like I was wearing concrete boots as I slowly limped away from him. I checked my direction and saw he’d more or less kept going the correct way. My father’s old cabin was only about half a day’s hike away.
“Not a chance. You have a concussion and need help. I’m not leaving you alone.”
“Creepy much?” I snapped at him. Impatient with company, I was a loner and not fond of anyone. I realized I didn’t know his name, nor did I care to learn it.
“Fine. I’ll take that. You don’t understand what’s happening. Strength in numbers, Molly.” His face was earnest. The dark was broken by beams of moonlight filtering through the tree tops. Half his face was in shadow while the other was lit with pale white light. It gave him a sinister look. Shaking off the mental image, I turned away and continued to slip between the trees and underbrush.
“You think I don’t know what’s going on? I do. Maybe not as well as you since you have that uniform on but neither am I an idiot. The police have been disbanded and martial law is now in effect. I see you’re a Corporal and a deserter. Neither of those wins any points with me Corporal Reid.” There was just enough light that I could read his last name on his chest along with his rank on his collar.
I could see where I was going, mostly. It most cases, it would be smart to stop and camp for the night and wait for daylight to continue. But this was not most cases. I had to get as much distance between myself and that camp as possible.
“It’s Richard. Richard Reid,” he grumbled from behind me.
“Well, Ricky boy, nice knowing ya. Time for you to move on. Head wherever you were going before you ran into me. Thanks again for your help.
” If an open-handed wave could be sarcastic, then I think I’d managed it.
“Nice try. You just keep on marching and I’ll keep on following. You won’t even know I’m here.”
His footsteps were quiet enough, nearly as good as mine. I’d let him follow me for now, but I was ditching him the first chance I got.
****
Dawn was beginning to break and I was quickly tiring. Hiking through the woods on a nice, well-maintained trail may not be too difficult, but when you’re trudging through the forest in the dark—it was damn hard work.
“We need to stop soon. You should rest.” Reid’s voice broke up the silence. Well, as silent as any forest ever is. The chattering of squirrels and cawing of birds was all around us.
“Yeah… I suppose.” I looked around us, trying to see if there was a place of concealment we could take a break in. I didn’t think we were being followed, but caution was best. We were currently walking through a dry creek-bed, to one side was a large tree that had fallen down. The empty space created by the roots coupled with the high bank and low creek-bed made an almost cave-like hollow. Perfect for a few hours rest. “In here.” My ribs were screaming in pain, my body lagging and demanding rest.
“Real five-star accommodations you’d got here, Molly.” He dropped his pack and planted his ass in the dirt. Dust rising up around him in a cloud.
“Don’t like it, go somewhere else.” Sitting down and propping my pack between my feet, I pulled out some food and water. “You’d think that you wouldn’t be bitching considering that you’re in the fucking reserves. Then again, from what I hear, reservists are pussies anyway.” I nearly laughed at his full-scale pout he had going.