Worth Saving

by G. L. Snodgrass

  Now I am almost a foot taller that her five foot three and I tried hard not to stare down at her partially exposed cleavage. I wasn’t always successful, but I tried.

  Letting her be the lead, I leaned on her as she led us into the library and up the stairs. We’d only gotten to the second floor before I had to stop to catch my breath. Ellen, and Margaret came running down the stair and almost collided with us as we stood there waiting for me to return to normal. Ellen blanched when she saw the two men and started backing up the stairs.

  “It’s okay honey,” Claire said. “They’re tied up, and the boys have them.

  Ellen stopped and tentatively came down the rest of the way, seeing my arm, Claire’s shirtless state of dress, and all the blood. I thought for sure she’d faint. Lifting her chin, she gathered herself and held out the First Aid kit. “I found it.”

  “Thanks honey, Take it to Kris’s room, we’ll be there in a second. Margaret, get me some clean sheets and start some water boiling on the wood stove.”

  The boys and I’d dragged a small wood pellet stove up to the fourth floor and fashioned a pipe out of a window for a chimney. We had to work our butts off to get it all the way from the hardware store and up those stairs. Claire’s smile of appreciation had made it all worthwhile. The fresh pancakes the next morning made us kick ourselves that we hadn’t gotten it the first time she’d asked.

  Claire limited the cooking to one meal a day; the upstairs got way too hot otherwise. It’d be great this winter though. It sort of surprised me to be thinking of the winter, only a few minutes ago I’d thought for sure I’d be dead by now.

  Seeing that I’d regained my breath, Claire got me upstairs and gently eased my way into bed.

  “What are we going to do with these two,” Schick asked. “I know Claire said something about hanging. Are we going to do it from the roof, if so we might as well just throw them off and save the rope.”

  Both men turned white and started saying, “No”, “We didn’t mean it” over and over but everyone in the group ignored them as they pondered what Schick had said.

  Shuck thought about it for a second and said. “I have always preferred the idea of ‘Burning at the Stake’. I know it was supposed to be for witches and stuff, think of it, we can have a huge bonfire, two actually, do it at night,” His thirteen year old voice breaking with excitement. Shuck has always been a bit of a pyromaniac. That was one of the reasons I didn’t mind them always being together, Schick had a calming influence.

  “Naw, I say let’s impale them, you know like those Golden Hordes do,” Scheck said, trying to top his buddy in devising the most gruesome of deaths. “You know, get some 4x4’s, sharpen one end, put the other end into the ground, maybe in the park, make them high enough to be out of reach of the jumping dogs, at least until their body weight drags them down the pole. Of course they’ll probably already be dead by then.

  “I don’t know they might still be alive,” Shuck interjected, watching the two prisoner’s faces drain of the last bit of color.

  “Will you two shut up. Kris will figure out the best way to handle this later. For now, tie them up in the men’s room, both hands and feet. I’m sure you can figure out some way to make sure they don’t escape. And tie her up in the ladies bathroom.

  “Hey, I haven’t done anything,” the woman protested.

  “We’ll figure that out later,” Claire said and then looked at the boys as if to say, why aren’t you done yet. You know that look that only some women can pull off. A mere glance that says they are disappointed and expected more out of you. It is the ‘expected more’ that does it.

  “Why do I have to be in a separate room,” the woman asked.

  “Because I don’t trust you,” Claire snapped, and then looked again at the boys, “Why are you still here?” She said, probably figuring that if the ‘look’ didn’t work, direct orders might.

  “Come on,” Shuck said, shaking his head, obviously confused by the undercurrent of tension between the two women, and disappoint that their little game was being broken up. Shuck tugged the ropes binding his charge, Schick prompted the other man. Margaret, who had returned with fresh sheets still in their original package, grabbed the woman’s arm to lead her to the ladies room. That was the thing about Margaret, you could always rely on her to do what she was told, but nothing extra.

  “I’ll be right back,” Claire said to Hector and hurried from the room.

  “Well compadre, Once again you go out of your way to be the center of attention,” Hector said, shaking his head, trying to hide a smile. “I mean, jumping off buildings in a single bound, dispatching two armed intruders with little effort, and half undressing our Miss Claire. All in a single afternoon, you are quickly replacing the Cisco Kid as my new hero, what do you have planned for an encore?”

  “I plan on sitting here and letting you guys do the work for a change,” I jested back. “And you are quickly replacing Alexander Edison, or is it Thomas Bell, as my favorite inventor. I saw that pump thing you started to work on, do you think it’ll work,” I said. I realized I was rambling. I was trying to take my mind off the pain in my arm, face, knee and every other important muscle group.

  Claire walked back into the room, she’d put on a new T-shirt but refused to look me in the eye. Needless to say, I was a bit disappointed, what are you going to do? Margaret followed her in with a bowl of warm water and the two started cleaning me up. Using a warm wash cloth she gently wiped the grit and grime from around my eye. Her determined expression was focused and a little disconcerting, her touch was gentle though. “Not much more I can do for it,” she said before moving to examine my scraped knee.

  “This needs to be bandaged. Take your pants off,” She said, looking me square in the eye, daring me to make a snide comments. As I have said before, I’m not an idiot and told her to cut the pants. I think she was a little disappointed. Turnabout was fair play and all. She used Hectors knife to open them down to the hem and pulled back the flaps of cloth.

  With freer access she quickly had it cleaned and bandaged. Turning to examine my right hand. She held it tenderly, spending a few seconds lost in thought. Sighing, she said “I don’t think anything is broken, just scrapes and bruises. It’s pretty amazing when you think about the other guy’s face.”

  I knew she was delaying looking at my left arm, she was as nervous as me. Finally exhausting all other options she slowly lifted the blood soaked T-shirt. The bleeding had stopped. Motioning Hector back out of the way she started washing off the dried blood.

  The knife had caught me about six inches above the wrist on the outside and sliced about two inches of skin and muscle, leaving a small flap of tissue holding it all together.

  “Can you move your fingers?” Claire asked.

  Starting with my thumb I slowly waggled each digit and was four for four when I got to my pinky. It wouldn’t move no matter how much I tried. Giving up, I dropped back onto my pillow, trying not to think about the pain.

  “OK, I have to open it up and clean it Kris,” she said, her voice dripping with regret.

  “I know, just do it fast.”

  Thankfully I passed out not long after.

  Chapter Ten

  I came out of it the next morning with a head like a slab of marble and a mouth drier than a sand box. My muscles had been twisted in a wringer and it hurt to think about moving. Claire was slouched in a chair next to my bed, her head resting on her chest and arms folded across her stomach. I watched her while she slept, she was so cute, I didn’t want to disturb her but I had to go to the bathroom, bad. The thought of having to climb down four flights of stairs then back up was daunting.

  I tried to slide my legs over the bed, being careful not to wake her. God it hurt, my arm was on fire, and I had to stop and rest to get my breath. Gathering myself I stood and made my way to the door.

  “Kris! What are you doing?” Claire exclaimed as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

  “Going to the ba
throom,” I said.

  “OK, let me help,” she said, hurrying to put her arm around my waist, unintentionally squeezing my bladder.

  “I’m Okay Claire, I can do it,” I snapped, probably stronger than I should have.

  Claire immediately let me go and stepped back, her shocked face looked like I slapped her. I couldn’t afford to fix it just then, I had to go, now. I hurried out the door and down the hall as fast as my sore muscles would let me. I’d gone down three steps when Claire came up behind me and said, “The boys brought up enough water for the toilet, you don’t have to go all the ways downstairs.”

  Feeling like a total jerk, I thanked her and scampered into the men’s room. I was halfway done before I saw the two prisoners sitting underneath the sinks, their hands tied to the plumbing. Both of them sat their staring at me.

  I was happy to see that they both looked as bad as I felt. Bruises, cuts and scrapes were abundant. The big guys face reminded me of a dead possum I’d seen on the side of the road, back when people drove cars. Raw, red flesh that’d been pulled inside out. The smaller guy looked pissed, trying to drill holes into my hide.

  Ignoring them, I walked outside to apologize to Claire, but she wasn’t around. I’m sure I’d probably hurt her feelings somehow.

  I drank about a gallon of water and went back to bed.

  .o0o.

  “Kris, you’ve got to do something about Susan,” Claire said as she threw open my door, waking me from a nice nap.

  “Why do I have to do something, and who’s Susan?” I asked.

  “You know that bi… that new girl, woman, whatever, the one who was with those two guys.” Claire said.

  “Why do I have to anything right now,” I mumbled as I turned over and tried to go back to sleep.

  “Because, the boys keep finding reasons to visit her in the girl’s bathroom.”

  “So?”

  “So? So nothing’s getting done, and it’s not right.” Claire said, exasperated by me, she grabbed my leg, giving it a good shake to make sure I wouldn’t get the nap I wanted.

  “Okay, okay, I’ll deal with it,” I said, trying to sit up in bed without banging my injured arm.

  “You have to figure out what we’re going to do about her,” Claire said as she started cleaning up my room, straitening books, picking up a dirty shirt, her obvious displeasure with me from the morning already forgotten. That was the thing about Claire; she didn’t stay mad for long. “I don’t trust her,” Claire added.

  “Claire, I said okay, you won, I’m getting up,” I said. “Have Hector bring her in here,” I said, wiping the sleep from my eyes and trying to remember what happened yesterday.

  I was taking a drink from the water bottle Claire had left me when the woman walked in. It took a lot of effort not to choke. The woman was beautiful, in a very sexy way, long legs, hips that curved like a sailing ship before the wind, narrow waste, a well-endowed chest, not so large that it was overly distracting; it was distracting just the right amount. And a young face of flawless complexion framed by full, healthy chestnut brown hair that fell to her shoulders. It was more than the physical factors, it was the poise, this is a woman who knew she was attractive, and liked the fact. It was the eyes that looked much older than the rest of her and sort of drew a person into them, making it hard to look away. I was becoming lost in those eyes when I realized she was aware of the impact she was having on me and that upset me enough to pull away.

  “Have a seat,” I said, indicating the other chair at my little table. I nodded for Hector to leave and then sat myself, placing my hands flat on the table; I stared at them, trying to figure out what to do next. This woman did something to my insides; it was different than when I looked at Claire, not stronger or weaker, different. A challenge, almost scary, she made me feel like I was walking a tightrope, with a potential for great success or great failure.

  Realizing I was stalling, I looked up, “So tell me your story,” I said

  Before she could get started, the door opened and Claire walked in with two plates of food. She placed mine down and almost tossed the other one in front of Susan then turned and sat on the edge of my bed, folding her arms, daring me to send her out of the room.

  I ignored Claire and focused on the woman, “What’s your name,” I asked.

  She finished swallowing her bite of food and looked at Claire. They seemed to come to an understanding and she started telling us her story.

  Her name was Susan Marshal from the other side of town, on the outskirts. She’d been living there with a man named Mike for the last year. He was becoming a drunk, and she was thinking about leaving when our two idiots showed up, Jim and Tony. They said they’d come out of the ‘Compound’, the one run by Big Jake Williams and that they were on some kind of mission.

  The four of them were holed up at this Mike’s place when Jim, the big one said they’d to get going on their mission and that they were taking her with them. When she told us that Mike didn’t put up much of a fight, I found it hard to believe her and almost chocked on my cracker. Clair shot me a mean look and shook her head. There must have been some other reason for Mike not to care. Anyway, our two idiots took her with them as they came to our side of town and started exploring. It didn’t take long to find us.

  “Did they abuse you?” I asked. It would influence how I dealt with them later. I listened anxiously for her answer.

  “Do you mean, did they rape me? No they didn’t. I think that Tony guy would have. Jim wouldn’t let him, he said that they were saving me for Big Jake, but if they found what they were looking for, then all bets were off. “

  They spent a few days wandering around the city, but they refused to tell her why. “They saw your fence and then the little girl. That got them very excited about. The next thing I know they were through the gate and grabbing on to her. After that, you know the rest.”

  The woman appeared to be telling the truth, there was something else going on I could tell. I didn’t know if she knew what it was all about.

  “Why didn’t you escape, they didn’t have you tied up or anything,” Claire asked.

  The woman pondered for a second then shrugged her shoulders “Because men are easier to manage if they think they’re in control,” she said looking at Claire, who I swear, blushed a little. “I was afraid that if I ran away and they caught me, they wouldn’t wait until we got to their compound, they’d take what they wanted then and there,” the woman said looking down at her hands in her lap.

  As I looked at her, I was pretty sure that Susan had a lot of experience managing men. An experience earned by some very hard lessons. A beautiful fifteen year old girl must have been a prime target for every monster when the illness wiped out all the checks and restraints of civilization.

  It was obvious that Claire saw what I did, her arms dropped and she almost had a caring look on her face, not quite, but almost. Claire saw my questioning look, and nodded her head in agreement.

  “Okay, you can stay with us if you want, or leave, it’s your call. Claire will find you a place to stay. We’ll deal with the other two in the morning. I assume you’ve been told about our set up and stuff.

  “Yeah, Tim and Paul told me.”

  “Who?”

  “Tim and Paul, the two young boys, always together, one blond the other’s got short brown hair.”

  “Oh, you mean Schick/Shuck,” I said, laughing to myself. “Well you know the rules, follow them and you can stay, don’t follow them and you get kicked out. Real simple.”

  She nodded her head and looked at me, “How old are you,” she asked.

  “Eighteen, why?”

  “Just wondering,” She said, shaking her head as Claire lead her from the room.

  .o0o.

  Schick/Shuck led the two men into my room the next morning. The boys each held their pistol cross bows, fully armed and ready to go. The look on their faces was startling; the normal carefree demeanor had disappeared to be replaced by sullen, vindicti
ve little terrors, ready and willing to exact extreme vengeance.

  They roughly prodded the two prisoners into the room and forced them to stand before my table.

  I’d rearranged the room for this occurrence, trying to give it a little formality. something to signify that I was taking this seriously. I’d set my table and one chair with its back to the wall, covering the table in a long black cloth that reached to the floor. Four chairs had been arranged along the wall opposite my bed. Claire, Susan, Hector and Margaret sat there staring at the prisoners; they too realized the importance of what we were doing. We’d placed storm lanterns throughout the room, giving it a yellow glow with flickering shadows.

  I’d assigned Ellen and Jenny as lookouts on the roof. I didn’t want them to be part of these proceedings. There was no telling how they might end up and they had enough nightmares to deal with. I told them both that we had to be worried about someone trying to rescue the prisoners and their job was to get us if anyone approached our fences. Both girls lit up like Christmas trees when they realized they were being entrusted with such an important task and ran off to retrieve their spears, determined to patrol the ramparts like medieval knights protecting the castle.

  I noticed Claire give me a concerned look. Typically, she was the one to pick up on my worries. We’d discussed it briefly the night before. I was very concerned about this whole thing. What right did I have to pass judgment on these two men? What gave me the authority? There was a good chance that these two men would be dead before the day was through, and it’d be my words that condemned them and probably my hand that executed them. No way was I putting that guilt onto someone else. Would it be murder, my gut told me it would. My mind said that it might be necessary to protect our community.

  I’d tossed and turned all night, my arm screaming in pain, visions of them dragging Ellen away, not letting me rest or put it out of my mind for a moment. Finally giving up, I’d gone down to the Library and found a couple of books about trials, and judges, and why they did things the way they did them. I thought about all of the movies I’d ever seen about lawyers and the law. I found a passage about how the reason we had judges was to stop endless loops of revenge. How before judges, if someone killed someone, then the dead guy's family would kill the killer and so on and so on. If judges and lawyers failed to see justice done the community would take action on its own. That was why it was so important that judges be viewed as impartial. Unfortunately, we didn’t have that luxury, and while I guess I could have passed the responsibility to Claire or Hector, we all felt about Ellen the same way, I thought that it was my responsibility.