The Woman They Kept

by Krause, Andrew

  The door opened again and Leon brought in a large transport battery and a pair of alligator clips with a bucket of water. He set them down and pulled out a thick pair of rubber gloves.

  “Your friend was a good one, it took him a long time before he told me about you. What he didn't tell me was why you wanted to see me. So why don't you fill me in on that one? I can't imagine it can be for anything good.”

  Malakir reached into the bucket of water and drew out a dripping sponge. As Leon hooked together the alligator clips to the transport battery Malakir wiped the sponge over Leanin's naked body. The water trailed down her curves and she shone in the light. “I have a confession to make to you. Will you be my priest?” He asked her. “I love what I do. I love the look that a woman gets after she's been in my stable for long enough, that blank stare of resigned hopelessness. At that point she's little more than a cunt and a mouth, there to serve. But that's not even the best part of the job.” He walked to Gideon. “This man here, tied up next to you? I'll work on him just the same, because I have to. But with you I'm going to spend time, we'll really get to know each other.” He strode back to Leanin and pressed the fork in his jeans against her hand. “Can you feel how much I'm going to enjoy this?”

  Leanin's face was still, betraying nothing of what she was feeling. Malakir smiled.

  “You've got quite a heart, kid. I'm going to enjoy breaking it.” Switching focus, he sat by Gideon. Leon brought forward a tray with all the things that Gideon had kept in his pockets. Malakir poked a disinterested finger through them for a moment before pausing. His grin grew incredibly large as he picked up the picture.

  “Maybe this will be more than just work after all," he said. "I figured I would start with you anyway, once I get working on the saucy little cunt over there I'll probably cum all over myself, you know how it is.” Turning the photograph around, he showed it to his prisoner. “I don't think I've ever seen Rolanda look this happy.”

  Gideon had never felt such a helpless, impotent rage before. Trying to keep control, he concentrated on his breathing. The ropes held him tightly, he couldn't move more than a few millimeters in any direction.

  “What a beautiful woman. Look at how she's smiling and the sun is weaving itself through her golden blonde hair, she's got such innocence.” Malakir unfolded the picture and showed Gideon himself, arm in arm with Rolanda. “This doesn't seem to be a familial embrace; my guess is young lovers?”

  Gideon stayed quiet, flexing and relaxing his muscles, trying to loosen the bonds that held him. If he could only get free, there was nothing that could stop him.

  Malakir stood close enough to Gideon that he could feel an unnatural heat coming from the man. “It's not often we get virgins coming through here. I thought about selling it, it would have fetched quite a price, but then I realized what an opportunity I had. I hadn't taken a woman's maidenhood in years. You know what I really love about that moment? That first moment when you break through the hymen? It's the look in her eyes. There's pain and then the break and then rapture and then horror when she realizes that she's enjoying it. She's now dirty, and she hates that she likes it so much. Abrahamic girls are best for this. The religion teaches them so much repression the guilt they feel is palpable. Have you ever been inside a woman when she starts crying? It's exquisite, the way her body shudders and convulses, you can feel it through your entire cock.” Malakir took Gideon's hand and looked him in the eye. “Rolanda cried, I want you to know that. She cried when I was inside her.”

  A burning hatred blinded Gideon, giving everything a bloody hue. His entire consciousness, his whole being, focused down to a single desire, to kill the man standing in front of him.

  Malakir's erection was quite pronounced when he stood up, bulging through the silk suit pants he was wearing. “I tell you what. I don't own her anymore, but if you bend over and kiss my shoe,” he showed a highly polished black leather loafer to Gideon, “I'll tell you who does, and moreover, where he lives. Doesn't that sound like the bargain of a lifetime?”

  Gideon swallowed hard. His heart thundered in his ear and he could feel a cold sweat on his brow.

  Malakir tapped Leon on the shoulder. “See that? That right there, I love that. Confliction." Kneeling by Gideon, he whispered in his ear. "You want to attack me as soon as I loosen the bonds, to let that animal that's been building inside you out, but you need to know where Rolanda is, and you know if you try to kill me two things will happen. First, Leon over there will break your legs, and then you won't ever be able to find your precious Rolanda. It's need versus want. And I think your need outweighs your want. Do you agree?”

  A sense of helplessness invaded Gideon, as though he were floating ten feet above where this horrendous scene played out, unable to do anything but watch. After a moment, he nodded once, and Malakir motioned to Leon.

  “I love life, it's quite interesting,” Malakir said while Leon undid the straps that bound Gideon. The smell of shoe polish grew stronger as Leon pushed Gideon down onto his knees in front of Malakir. “Go ahead, I'm not telling until you kiss them.”

  Swallowing hard, Gideon forced his pride and his anger down to a place where their protestations couldn't be heard, and tenderly kissed the man's shoe.

  Malakir laughed. “That was hard to watch. I sold her to a man named Shelton Wainswick. He works and lives in the coastal city of Algernia. She's a fighter, you know. She'll have to go through quite the seasoning process. Leon, will you tie him up again?”

  In that instant Gideon knew that they would never leave the room alive, and all the anger that had been building in the last twenty minutes came surging through him. Something broke free, and he gave all control over to his fury.

  When Leon came for him Gideon threw an elbow back and caught him in the nose. Gideon grabbed the only thing available to him, the transport battery, it felt light as a feather in his enraged hands, and he swung it back at Leon's head. It connected with the sound of a watermelon being split open and chunky bits of blood and brain sprayed out against the wall.

  Malakir hadn't moved, his jaw hanging open in surprise. Gideon lunged at his legs, tackling him to the ground. That seemed to startle him out of his shock, and Malakir began to fight back. Fists and elbows rained down on Gideon's head but he was beyond pain, pure rage driving him on.

  Gideon mounted him, pinning him beneath his legs. He gouged and scratched and hit Malakir until the man stopped moving, but still he wasn't done. The strength the anger had given him seeped from his body; this time he struggled to lift the transport battery above his head and drop it onto Malakir's chest, caving the ribs in.

  The pain of his wounds caught up with him as he cut Leanin from her chair, and soon after she was free he collapsed. Everything about him was in pain, he couldn't move, so Leanin dressed him and then slung him over her shoulder, carrying him from that place.

  Chapter Seven

  Something had happened in Imperium that Leanin couldn't understand. They were outside the city holed up in a cave, Leanin was watching Gideon sleep. The night was quiet and clear, the moon glowing over everything. It was still a long way to Algernia.

  When Gideon had broken back in that cell in Imperium, Leanin had felt something stir within her, a little itch where there hadn't been anything before. She tried to rationalize it, telling herself that they had massive amounts of adrenaline pumping through them, and that things were bound to get hazy. But it hadn't gone away.

  His chest rose and fell with his exhausted slumber and her eyes traced the curves of his muscles. It was a weak chest, skinny, but she found herself wondering what that chest would feel like if she were to run a finger along it. His jaw, too, she did not like. It was set too wide, too angled and sharp, but still she wondered what it would smell like if she were to rest her head right unde
r it.

  She rested her hand lightly on his chest and he woke. Within an instant she had snatched her hand back.

  “Leanin, what is it? Trouble?” His face was beaten to mush, lopsided, his eyes opened as wide as the swelling would allow.

  “You must have been dreaming, I didn't wake you,” she said.

  Gideon pulled on a shirt. “How much time 'til sunup?”

  “Hour or two. Go back to sleep, I'll wake you up.”

  Gideon shook his head. “I want to be going as soon as we have enough light. Do you think we can make it to the ocean today?”

  Leanin pulled out a little bag of dried beef and handed it to Gideon. “All depends on the miles we get.” As he chewed eagerly through the meat, she watched him. “Gideon? You know that no matter what happened to her, she'll still be the woman you loved.”

  He stopped chewing. “You think it's true, don't you? Everything Malakir said?”

  Avoiding eye contact with Gideon, Leanin packed her bag. “It's a probability that you're going to have to accept. It doesn't change her, not deep down, but you may have to work hard to get her to come back to the surface.”

  Standing, Gideon threw the pack of meat at her feet. “What do you know about it? Who asked you to chime in?” He was breathing heavily, an ugly flush had risen to his cheeks.

  Leanin went over to him and placed her hands on his chest. He was trembling. “Calm down, Gideon. I'm just trying to help, I've been through this.” Neither Leanin nor Gideon were paying much attention to their bodies. She had begun to stroke his chest softly and he was leaning into it.

  “Jenny?” Gideon asked.

  Leanin nodded. “I was the tomboy of the family, getting dirty and fighting with the other kids. Jenny was my opposite, beautiful, and kind, and prim and proper in all the ways that I never was.”

  “I think you're beautiful,” Gideon said without thinking.

  She smiled and a slight blush crept onto her cheeks. “Not compared to her. She was the type who could stop a conversation when she entered a room. People revolved around her like hopeful little planets circling around the sun.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “The Thirteen took her. They had a party with her that first night, passing her around like she was no more than a warm hole for them. They sold her to Daniel, and then he sold her to someone else. I still haven't found who the last owner was, I found her out walking the streets. She was...broken. I got her out of there and took her home, but something had gone wrong inside of her. We stayed away from cities for a few days, but she ate so little, so I took her back home.”

  Tears sprang to Gideon's eyes and his voice broke. “Why are you telling me this? Are you saying I should just give up?”

  “That's not what I'm saying at all.” Leanin held him closer and spoke softly. “My mother and father, they were like Arisa's parents. They thought that she must have instigated everything, that she was asking for it, enjoying it. Sure, they never dragged her out into the streets like that, but they didn't shy away from telling her exactly how they felt. Dishonor was a word they said a lot.”

  “What happened to her?” Gideon asked.

  The sun was just beginning to turn the sky from black to dark blue. “She killed herself," Leanin said. Something scuttled outside of the cave, rustling up the ground. Leanin stayed quiet for a moment, her head cocked to the side, listening. After another minute it was quiet again. "That's why you need to remember that no matter what happens, deep down it's still Rolanda. You just have to work hard to bring her back to the surface.”

  Gideon nodded. Leanin's hands were still on his chest, his heart beating under her palm. He brushed a hair out of her face. “I'm sorry about your sister,” Gideon said. Pulling her closer, her face in the crook of his neck, he held her. She smelled of cinnamon and black tea.

  ...

  It was still a few hundred miles to the ocean when they found the bodies. They were past the low hills and the land was wide and flat plains. Cyclones of grey dust kicked up in the distance and skeletal trees stuck out in the landscape. Everything was shades of grey and brown.

  The bodies were strung up in a tree on the side of the road. They were hanging from nooses, swinging in the breeze, their clothes long since mouldered away. A hand painted sign stuck in the ground, saying, “A disobedient whore needs to be punished.”

  “Who do you think they put the sign up for?” Gideon asked.

  “I think it's here so other transports can stop and show their cargo what happens when they fall out of line,” Leanin said. Her face was very pale. “Do you see the one on the end?”

  Gideon walked closer and he inspected the body she was referring to. The skeleton was polished white from the wind and the dust, the macabre grin of death leering back at him. Looking lower, his eyes widened and he took a step back. Cradled in her pelvic bone was another, much smaller skeleton, curled in upon itself. Gideon turned and vomited to the side.

  “We have to do something for them,” he said when his stomach settled.

  “Are you saying we should bury them?” Leanin asked.

  “No!” Gideon shouted. “No,” he repeated again, softer. “Nobody should have to spend eternity smothered underground. Let's burn them.”

  Leanin put a hand on Gideon's shoulder. “We're behind as it is, we'll only lose time. And besides, they're already mostly bone. There's not much left to burn. Let's just take them down and move on.”

  They cut the bodies down and stacked them away from the road, away from where they could be used as a threat or warning. Gideon carefully removed the infant skeleton and arranged it in the crook of the mother's arm.

  Soon they were back on the track, riding as quickly as they dared over the dusty plains. It was a flat ride, though they still had to be vigilant about scattered debris. They passed through the remnants of old towns, built back before the necessity for the bubbles, where abandoned buildings were left to slowly rot themselves into the ground. Some of the brick and stone buildings still held the general form of a house, the wooden ones had by and large fallen to the ground.

  When the light was low enough Leanin signaled and they set up camp in the remnants of an old library. The shape was well made, four walls still stood, though the roof had long since caved in. Scattered mouse-eaten books made for a spongy, somewhat soft floor. They set the tent up and lit a small fire with the remnants of the long forgotten literary collection.

  “I don't care that she's not a virgin anymore,” Gideon said suddenly. “I just want her back.”

  Leanin stirred the fire, kicking up sparks. “People make a big deal out of a lot of things that aren't. I'm not a virgin. I lost mine to an older man who I thought loved me. Turned out he just loved fourteen year old girls. I found a stash of girls' panties in his room. He had keepsakes from every virginity he'd taken. The only thing that matters is that you get her back safe,” she said, "and that you're happy." Her eyes moved over the rough scar tissue on his hands. The fight with Malakir had left a mark that would last a long time.

  Though she would never admit it, Leanin sometimes felt that her own life had ended when Jenny was taken. It wasn't fair, the hand that they had been dealt. She watched Gideon clearing aside the molding debris while he set up the tent. Most of the books on the ground had been so damaged by the years of acid rain that they were little more than imprints on the ground below them, but they cleared aside easy enough.

  She threw what was salvageable of an old bookcase on top of the fire. It wasn't right that if everyone only got one life to live some people could get such a shit end of it. People like Gideon and her, people who had experienced trauma large enough to shape an entire life, they didn't get to settle down and find someone nice to grow old with. She brushed aside the thoug
ht and stretched out their sleeping mats next to the fire, laying down on one.

  Gideon lay next to her and closed his eyes. His face was hard, tense, lined in a way that wouldn't come naturally until he was much older. Leanin traced those lines with her eyes and moved closer to him. Their shoulders touched, and he turned and put his arm gently around her. When she held a hand up to his face, the lines seemed to fade, if only a little. “Who are you thinking I am?” She asked in a whisper.

  His eyes opened. They were lying together, arm in arm, their bodies touching, warm, breathing in time with each other. She smelled so clean, so fresh, even after a long day of riding.

  “You can imagine I'm her,” Leanin said. Her fingers traced around his ear and down the curve of his jaw. The wind howled through the empty windows of the library. “I'll hold you and you can pretend a while.”

  Their foreheads touched as they leaned against each other, the fire crackling warm. With eyes closed their lips found each other. It was an explosion of opposites; soft and gentle yet pressured firmly from both sides; wanting and repelling and needing and regretting each other within the same grasping moment. They pulled away only to spring back together, their hands flustered about each other's bodies.

  “Stop,” Gideon said. Swallowing hard, he held his hands up and shut his eyes.

  Leanin stood quickly and walked out of the shell of the library into the remnants of the town. The sky above was turning dark, storm clouds rumbling toward them quickly. For a moment, just a single moment and no longer, she saw all the broken buildings around her as whole. People were walking around, on their way to the market, sitting on steps and laughing at nothing in particular, cautioning their children to behave, waving to friends and neighbors. Then Gideon's footsteps thumped loudly behind her and the image fell back to ruin.