by Angela White
“What else?”
Rice waved a hand at Conner. “One for half of them is a great deal.”
“No. Next?”
“Solve a problem, provide a service. You need to figure something out quickly.”
“I will,” Kendle promised. “Where should we be for the night?”
“You’ll take the rear room,” Rice instructed, pointing toward a narrow, dirty hall. “Don’t kill the mice. We sell them.”
“To who?” Kendle asked, standing up.
“There are still experiments to be done and captives to be fed, even now,” Rice told them. “They also make good pets because they eat the lice and bedbugs.”
“And carry diseases,” Conner pointed out. In the sewers, he’d always made the kids kill them.
“Actually, it’s the fleas that carry disease. We dust our mice.” Rice went back to his bowl. “Good night.”
Kendle and Conner went to their assigned room.
Kendle swept the filthy bed and cluttered dresser, then the tiny closet that didn’t appear to have been used. Sighing in trepidation, Kendle tossed her jacket there. “I’ll take first watch. Wake you up in a few hours.”
Conner was too tired to try being a gentleman. He’d been driving for hours before they’d had the flat tires.
Kendle noted the lack of windows and her sense of danger, but it wasn’t anything to be more concerned over than usual. She was always getting herself into a situation where her back was against a wall. Whatever Market Town brought, she was still a descendant and so was Conner. Neither of them were defenseless. Kendle was already considering a plan of attack to grab her team and the mysterious descendant, and go. She didn’t care about Rice, but she couldn’t leave one of her own if their life was in danger. It didn’t feel right.
“Doesn’t feel right to leave these people in slavery either,” Conner said quietly. He yawned and lay down on her jacket. “You still smell good. Nice.”
Kendle thought of their spark earlier. Her control was almost at its limit, but thankfully, fate had placed an entire town of slavers and thieves at her fingertips. She had to decide which was more important–getting her team first or killing the masters. Kendle contemplated it long into the night.
She was still toiling on it when she roused Conner and took his warm spot hours later.
“No noises other than Rice’s family returning. Didn’t hear any conversations. Keep an ear out,” Kendle instructed as she curled into a ball. “Wake me at dawn.”
Conner wanted to protest that dawn was a couple hours away, but remembered that she’d slept in the truck. He settled on the corner of the dresser and tried to listen to the flats around them without using his gifts. Being discovered right now wouldn’t be good.
“Dawn,” Kendle reinforced. “I need to hear the town coming awake. It tells me things.”
“Okay,” Conner approved, scanning her ass. She was curled away from him and the view was enticing.
“I’d break you, kid. It would never get hard again,” Kendle warned.
Conner flushed and sent his curious gaze elsewhere. “Sorry.”
Kendle sighed. “Can I give you some advice?”
“Yep.”
“Jealousy is an amazing tool. It has destroyed civilizations and will probably do so again at some point in the future. Jealousy, used carefully, is powerful.”
Conner dwelled on her words. He understood what she meant, but Conner didn’t know anyone in Safe Haven who would help him with something like that. He couldn’t imagine stringing a girl along or lying to them.
“Why lie?” Kendle asked, rolling over to regard him. “Let her see how happy you make someone else. In the meantime, you might be better off with that person. If so, good for you. If not, it gets Candy’s attention. There’s nothing wrong with it. You need experience in this crap if you’re going to please her. I hear Lee was quite the man.”
“Then why did she cheat on him?” Conner asked snidely. He still hated Lee, even though Lee was dead.
“Why did Kyle cheat on Jennifer? People make stupid choices.”
“Like the people here?”
“Yes. If they’d come together, half of them would have died but the rest would have been free, with the threat gone. They were faced with an awful choice and they couldn’t do it. It wasn’t stupid so much as it was weak,” Kendle answered, groggily. She was drifting.
“You’re not weak that way, are you?” Conner asked thoughtfully.
“No, boy. I’m also not the one for your little scheme. I’ve got my own plans, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“Why don’t you stay with my dad?”
“He doesn’t want me.”
“He might, in time.”
“Yeah and pigs will fly. You’ve met her. Would you pick me over her?”
Conner wanted to say yes, but couldn’t. Angela would be at the top of any ladder.
“Nauseating,” Kendle groaned. “Leave me be, kid. I need sleep.”
“One more?”
“Fine.”
“Who did you think of when you said make her jealous?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“I do.”
“Millie.”
“What?”
“Millie can’t have children, so none of Safe Haven’s guys want her, but she still needs physical attention that she isn’t getting. She wants to try a service arrangement and she’s scared of being hurt. You wouldn’t be a threat to her because of your age and size.”
“She’d never go for it,” Conner denied. Millie had been forgiven for not telling them she had medical training. She was now helping the doctor, treating patients and camp kids, making house calls. She was earning her place. She wouldn’t risk it by having anything to do with him or his father. “Would she?”
Kendle didn’t answer. She was asleep.
Chapter Five
Caged and Pre-staged
1
“Tommy’s coming around. Grab him,” Ben instructed, squinting.
Ryan and Josh, the last to wake, forced themselves to scoot through the muck to comfort the groaning, puking man. The state of the cell they were in was indescribable, causing stomachs to override willpower and prevent a halt in the spewing.
Tommy held his pounding head, stomach twisting. “What happened?”
“We were hit with something,” Ben answered over his shoulder. “We all have neck wounds.”
Tommy felt for his, gagging, but managing not to vomit again. He’d always had a strong stomach. It had been helpful at times. He found the small lump on the back of his neck, but didn’t feel any blood. “Drugs?”
“Something ugly,” Josh guessed, also speaking over his shoulder. He and Ryan had resumed their positions. “I hurt like Marc taught me a lesson.”
“Can anyone get a message out?” Tommy asked groggily. He shivered as his bare feet touched the bars… Bare? “I’m naked!”
“Yeah, we all are,” Ben stated angrily. “I put everyone facing out to watch for trouble while we recover, not that we can see anything. None of us can send a message. Might be the same stuff Donner used.”
“Soon, we’re gonna kick our way out of here and kill someone,” Scott warned.
“Sounds good,” Tommy granted, and then puked through the rusty bars in front of him.
Ben and the others controlled their own queasy guts, all of them shivering, streaked in mud and filth.
“Give me the lay,” Tommy instructed as he tried not to do it again, laying his cheek against the cool metal.
“We’re in a long room,” Ben told him. “We can see light under a door at the far side. No one else has spoken or moved, so we assume we’re alone, but that can’t be verified.”
“We’re in a cell?”
“Of some sort,” Josh answered. “I found bars and a stucco wall. Not a jailhouse setup. This cell is raised. I can reach out and under a little. Nothing down there.”
“We’re sitting at an angle,” Tyler sta
ted. “I’m almost positive of it.”
“Lets the mess drain,” Dexter muttered.
Churning, Tommy gasped out, “Sorry!” and emptied his guts again.
“You should be good now,” Ben told him. “Your sight should be coming around any time, too.”
Tommy was startled to realize he hadn’t been able to see, but there were now tiny gleams of light against his lids that said Ben was correct. “Damn. I didn’t notice.”
“Me either, at first,” Ben remarked. “I woke up and cracked my nose on the bars. Probably look like I’ve been beaten.”
“Has anyone been hurt?” Tommy demanded. I should have asked already. I’m so hazy!
“No. You?”
Tommy studied his body and shook his head. He groaned, “Ugh… No. Is everyone here?”
“The traitor’s crew isn’t.”
No one voiced theories on that.
“So we were grabbed and stripped, then put into a cell. For what?” Tyler asked.
“Revenge for Donner or the big bunker?” Josh guessed. He was grateful for the voices of his team. He hated the dark.
“Maybe,” Ben concurred. “Could also be any of the refugee families or even the Mexicans.”
“She’s made a lot of enemies,” Ryan commented, meaning Angela. In situations like this, they weren’t supposed to use their real names or anyone else’s.
“Yeah, you’d think folks would know better than to challenge us by now,” Dexter grumbled. “Don’t they get tired of dying?”
“I can hear talking,” Scott said suddenly. “In the next room.”
“You by the wall?” Tommy asked.
“Yeah.”
The team stilled, straining to hear as they realized another sense was returning. They’d all judged the muffled sound of their own voices to be a hangover effect from whatever had been shot into them. Sound seemed to snap in place all at once, startling the captives with footsteps, shouts, clangs and bangs, doors slamming, and other noises that echoed into their brains like spikes.
“Ugh! Make it quit.”
“Damn, that hurts.”
The door opened suddenly, flooding them with light. Even the Eagles with their backs to it covered their faces in misery.
“I’m turning on all the lights. Keep your eyes shaded until they adapt or your nose will bleed,” a female instructed.
More light flooded them, bringing fresh groans.
“You will shower and dress. Stand up when you believe you can do that.”
All of the team forced themselves to their feet. Not only did they need to stay together, they also wanted out of the cage to avoid the mess and have an opportunity to escape.
“One at a time. The cell is not locked.”
Not locked! Tommy screamed silently in rage. We could have already been out!
“I am Renda. Your owner.”
The men who could view their captor were shocked into silence. The rest of the team shared not-so-subtle glances of preparation as her footsteps neared the cell.
“It is easy to think you can rush me, but I would suggest you inspect the situation before you do it,” the woman told them coolly. She came to stand in front of the cell, but not close enough to be grabbed.
Some of the team still gaped at her in dismayed surprise, while the other half stared in frustration at the six hulking men near the door. Each of them glowered menacingly from behind their gear and guns, telling the naked team that any attempt at escape would be met with ugly consequences.
“We’ll shower,” Tommy consented. “What then?”
“You’ll be fed and prepared for sale,” the woman replied, sweeping for wounds and distinguishing features. “Are you injured or broken in any way? Are you carriers of disease?”
Tommy glared at her in disbelief. “We’re being sold? As what?”
“Slaves.” Renda smiled. “Who provide whatever our patrons want. Labor, reproduction, security, skills you may have…”
Tommy understood she wanted details to base their prices on, but he couldn’t get past the fact that they’d been kidnapped to be sold. “You’re a trafficker?”
“I am a trader,” Renda corrected icily. “One of the masters of Market Town. You are property to be sold as soon as the market opens.” She pointed at the showers lining the wall by the cell. “One at a time.”
None of the Eagles moved.
Renda pointed at Tyler. “He’s weak. I will shoot him and trade his body to the health master for experiments.”
Tommy sighed in defeat and went to the shower.
Renda smiled again, showing white teeth and cruelty. “A fast learner. Excellent. Tell me of your skills.”
Tommy tried not to enjoy the warm water in the portable shower, but it was impossible not to be grateful that he was getting clean. The promise of clothes was also something to anticipate. He did the best he could to ignore the way the female studied his body and movements, recording things on her clipboard.
“Skills?” Renda reminded as Tommy dried off with a towel she gave him from the large stack on shelves by the shower. She swept him observantly, from toe to hair, then came to linger on his male parts.
Tommy was scarlet as he said, “I don’t usually charge a woman for this, but you’ve been rude, so you’ll have to pay.”
Renda laughed, delighted. “Service provider. Are you sterile?”
“Not that I know of,” Tommy answered, happily sliding into the jogging pants and paper slippers. His toes were frozen. “You in need?”
Renda wasn’t used to captives who accepted their situation so fast. She scanned him suspiciously. “If I were?”
“I’d make a deal,” Tommy stated, motioning Ryan to hit the shower while he followed Renda to a long table adjacent the guards.
“You have nothing to trade,” she pointed out. “Not even your life. It is mine.”
“A willing man is much easier to handle,” Tommy charmed.
Renda gestured toward a double deep sink. “That is where your ankle tendons will be cut after sale, to prevent you from escaping your new owner. I will tell them to do yours deeper than most.”
Tommy sat down where she pointed. “Can’t blame a slave for trying.”
Renda didn’t know whether to snicker or shout. She settled for going back to the shower to question Ryan.
Tommy spent a moment examining the piles of food on the tray in front of him, and then another long minute studying the row of muscle. The guards were hard, big and armed, but their blurry features were truly intimidating. They were expressionless. These six men wouldn’t show mercy. They would be the ones to cripple the slaves when the woman ordered it, Tommy was certain. He was still contemplating their captors when Ryan joined him.
“Interesting setup they’ve got here,” Ryan commented, trying to determine if security was supposed to keep them from conversing.
“Effective so far,” Tommy agreed, studying the windowless red walls and tiny vents.
“Shut up!” the nearest sentry growled. “Eat!”
Tommy nodded at Ryan. They were thinking the same thing. Drag the meal out. When the rest of the team was at the table, they would jump the guards and take their guns, with the woman as their hostage for an escape. As Eagles, they’d actually practiced scenarios like this.
“Your people are nothing to me!” Renda’s angry words echoed. “Market Town doesn’t answer to this Safe Haven or anyone else. Get over there!”
Scott joined Tommy and Ryan with red cheeks and mad eyes that promised revenge.
“Eat,” Renda ordered, waving. “Or we will make you.”
The trio considered attacking right then, but seven of their guys were still in the cell, with one just lathering up. Tommy reluctantly took a bite of what he hoped was a hamburger.
“Beef!” he exclaimed, not tasting anything odd. He hadn’t expected other groups to have beef, though he wasn’t sure why he had that preconceived notion.
“We have all the comforts of home,” Renda
boasted, motioning a sentry to supervise the remaining men as they showered. She directed Josh into a seat by Tommy. “You will not be hurt as long as you do what you are told. The food is not drugged or poisoned. We have a reputation to uphold.”
“Best slaves in the state?” Scott questioned sarcastically. He added a quick rake of her attire–handmade tan pants and shirt under a hip-length suede jacket–and rolled his eyes. “Looks like you’re doing well.”
“Yes, my sullen gold mine,” Renda answered. “Our slaves are healthy and so are our whores. We give fair prices for all services.”
“Sounds like a big operation,” Tommy remarked casually.
“Yes, very big,” Renda admitted. “Hundreds of us. Do not risk your lives for freedom. Owners are protection. Get one and obey them.”
“Eat!” the guard growled again.
“They get in trouble if the slaves lose weight or become ill,” Renda explained. “You were weighed when brought in. We check it daily.”
She reached over and took a cold fry from Ryan’s tray. Chewing, she repeated, “It is not drugged. We will control you through your loyalty to each other, now that you’ve confirmed it exists.”
Tommy bit into the hamburger again to keep from giving the order to attack. This place is pissing me off.
“Perhaps you will be one of the lucky few who are bought by their friends or family,” Renda stated, taking a drink from the plastic cup on Tommy’s tray to drive in her point. “I have heard there are two new people in town this morning. That bodes well for you.”
The Eagles at the table couldn’t hide the relief at hearing the news. Kendle and Conner hadn’t abandoned them.
“See?” Renda soothed. “Eat, rest on the cots. If fate wants you to be with your friends, it will be so.”
“What keeps slaves from killing their owners and coming here to settle these scores?” Ben asked as he joined them at the table.
Renda’s brows puckered, eyes going dangerously blank. “We keep track. If one of you causes trouble, all of you will be punished. If one of you escapes, one will be killed and sold to the health master.”