His joints were a bit looser now that he was walking around, but that pervasive cold refused to go away. The day had never really warmed up despite being bright and sunny, and he was afraid of what it would mean for him to spend another night on the beach. There was more than enough wood for him to start a fire—if he could find anything to act as kindling—but he was also a bit afraid of who might see it. He was sheltered on one side by the cliffs that kept him hemmed in against the water, but that also meant that any sizeable flame he made would be visible for a good way out at sea. There wasn’t any reason for him to believe that someone might be coming after him specifically, but he decided that it was better to err on the side of caution anyway. He was in a foreign land, and he had already seen how they treated one another. If that was any sign of the populous at large, he was going to have to be careful to avoid people as much as possible until he knew that they weren’t going to slit his throat just for the sake of it.
He plodded along for over a mile, slowly moving through some of the larger debris as he looked for anything that might be useful, but as the afternoon wore on, he eventually abandoned his search entirely and pushed ahead instead, hoping to make time. The cliffs eventually started to disappear the further he made his way down the sandy beach, and within another half mile, they had all but disappeared. They whittled down slowly until they were little more than glorified sand dunes and then vanished altogether to be replaced by the long and flat beaches he was used to seeing at resorts and on vacations.
He turned inland almost as soon as he could, and he was happy to get away from the ocean for a while. The steady pounding of the surf would have been soothing under different circumstances, but right now, it was only serving as a constant reminder of the fact that he needed to find water and shelter before nightfall. The tree line started a few hundred yards off of the beach, and it was little more than a wild and dense undergrowth at first. Small saplings and thick, thorny bushes were crowded together in a dense hedge, and judging by their diminutive stature, they were struggling to survive in the face of the winds and storms that pounded the area. He carefully wove his way through without scratching himself too badly, and as he moved farther inland, they eventually gave way to towering deciduous trees. They were so high and so matted that they completely blocked out the sun, and he suspected that there were at least two layers of canopy and foliage above him. They reminded him of the massive redwoods he had seen on the western coast back home, though he doubted that those even came close to these in size and girth, except for the fact that they were crammed together like a rainforest. He had seen pictures of vehicles driving through those ancient trees on the Pacific coast, but some of these were so tall and wide around that he questioned whether a small bus would fit inside the trunk rather than a car.
Madison walked through the forest until he lost all light. He knew that the sun was still setting somewhere beyond the horizon, but the canopy was so thick that it blocked out what little light was left in the day. He hadn’t been able to find even the first sign of water, and other than the sound of small animals scampering away from him, he hadn’t seen much in the way of food either. He knew it was possible to set traps and catch game that way, but he didn’t have the foggiest idea how he was supposed to do that. In the end, he settled down into the crook of a tree on a thick pile of moss and decided to wait out the night and get a fresh start in the morning. His stomach rumbled from the neglect, and his throat was starting to turn raw from the abuse of the sea water and the lack of proper water, but there was nothing he could do satiate either. Regardless of his pressing pains, he was so exhausted from his night at sea and his half day’s walk that he was asleep within seconds of sitting down.
-----
Madison jerked awake with a start. His sleep-fogged brain hadn’t caught up with his body yet, but something had woken him. He eased himself forward into a sitting position slowly and strained his eyes and ears as he tried to figure out what might have woken him up. Unfortunately, there wasn’t even enough light to see by. The forest was basically pitch black now that the sun had disappeared completely, and his vision ended after a few measly feet. He suspected that all the sounds he heard were normal. At least, nothing sounded like it was remarkably out of place. There was a rustling of leaves somewhere off to his right that sounded like a small animal moving across the forest floor, and he heard something flit through the air above him, but that was it. Everything else was still and quiet, and there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary that should have woken him up from such a deep slumber. He remained seated that way for a long time, watching and listening, and he had to force himself to not tense up at every little sound. He had never been one to give in to an overactive imagination, but after seeing that ungodly monstrosity in the ocean, he had no clue what else might be running around on land. Eventually, he settled back into the crook of his tree and decided to wait it out until the morning daylight. He never really fell back asleep after that, only dozing off slightly from time to time before catching himself and jerking awake again.
He felt the damp before he saw it in the predawn hours, and he instinctively knew that a fog must have rolled in off the ocean at some point during the night. He listened to the world come awake around him, and each time he opened his weary eyes, he heard a whole new bevy of sounds as the forest came alive. He was far enough away from the ocean that he could no longer hear the crashing of the waves, and that allowed him to experience a whole symphony of bird calls. One started off with a low, warbling hoot, and he was soon joined by another screeching shrilly, and within no time at all, there was an entire chorus in the trees above him greeting the new day. Some of the sounds were almost recognizable. They reminded him of gulls and other seabirds that he was familiar with back home, but others were completely different. One was low and mournful and was only repeated a few times before it moved away from him, and another sounded like a demented fire alarm, high-pitched and shrill, that came in increasingly-faster intervals before stopping completely and starting over again.
He started out at a much slower pace than the day before, carefully picking his way along between the trees before the fog lifted or the sun burned it off. He had a feeling that, given the lack of light he had seen yesterday, it would be a long time before the fog dissipated, and he had serious doubts as to whether or not it would disappear at all. The ground had been fairly level throughout most of his walk so far, but that soon changed. Rather than the even terrain on the beach and the first leg of his trek through the woods, he began having to navigate his way around ditches and gullies and even a small ravine on one occasion, and the lack of vision became more of a liability than a simple hinderance.
He had been navigating around one such ravine when he almost stumbled into a small encampment. The thick fog hadn’t burned away in the slightest ever since he started walking, and as a result, he was practically in the center of the camp before he even realized where he was or that he wasn’t alone. In truth, if he hadn’t tripped over someone’s leg, he might not have realized it at all. The person was lying prone on the ground, and Madison’s toe caught underneath the man’s thin calf as soundly as if it had been a log. He fell forward into the dirty leaves, grunting slightly as he hit the ground. There was a rustling on all sides, and before he even had time to push himself to his feet, there were five dark figures standing above him in the swirling fog.
He looked up at them, trying to discern exactly what they were. The fog was so thick that he couldn’t tell whether they were men or monsters—he only knew that they were converging on him by the second. He momentarily questioned whether he should shout and scream or remain silent and invisible. He had heard stories of scaring away larger creatures such as bears by appearing larger than they were and making a bunch of noise, and he had also heard of remaining still and silent in order to appear invisible to predators. He figured his odds were about fifty-fifty either way. Taking a deep breath, he braced himself against the ground, sprang to his
feet as quickly as he could and started screaming at the top of his lungs while waving his arms about in the air.
Unfortunately, it was the wrong option. One of the black blurs recoiled slightly at the sound and then launched itself forward. Unable to react in time and move out of the way, the unknown creature speared him in the gut and tackled him to the ground. Madison instantly started trying to push it off, but it was much heavier than he would have anticipated. He twisted back and forth as he tried to fight his way free, but his mostly-sleepless night and the lack of food and water hadn’t left him with very much in the way of energy.
A pair of strong hands grabbed him by his wrists and forced them up over his head, and Madison realized that he was fighting against something human. “Hey! Stop! Just wait!” he cried desperately. “I’m not here to harm you. I just—” He was cut off as someone’s heavy boot kicked him in the ribs. Madison involuntarily flinched against the blow, trying to protect his ribs with his arms, but they were held firm.
“Stop!” he gasped.
“Shut up!” the man sitting on top of him growled. He struck out with a fist, punching Madison in his unprotected stomach.
Madison flinched, but there wasn’t much else he could do. “What the hell is wrong with you? I know you understand me! Get the—Get off!”
“I said shut up!” the man growled a second time, and Madison was kicked in the ribs a second time. As if to drive to the point home, a second person kicked him from the opposite side as well. He felt someone wrap a thick rope around his wrists, pulling them together so tightly he was afraid of his circulation being cut off, and then the weight on his stomach was lifted as the man sitting there rolled off.
“You give us any trouble, and you’ll regret it,” he said in a gruff voice.
Madison was getting tired of everyone he met trying to kill him or beat him senseless. What type of messed up place is this? Does everyone just naturally distrust everyone else? Are there no civil laws to stop random, senseless violence? The kicking he had received hurt, but it wasn’t enough to take away his sense of right and wrong or his sarcastic personality. “What? You’re just going to beat me again? Oh no!”
“Yeah, that’s right,” the man affirmed. “That’s exactly what we’re going to do.” He pushed himself to his feet and kicked Madison in the ribs like the other two men using the toe of his boot.
Two pairs of hands jerked Madison into an upright position and then grabbed a fistful of his hair, holding him upright so that he wouldn’t fall back over onto the flat of his back. The first one hauled back and kicked him in the stomach again. Madison felt the air explode out of his chest, and he instantly started coughing as he tried to get his breath back. The man behind him jerked him upright by his hair again, and the man delivered another punishing kick into his abdomen.
“Someone strike a torch,” the man called out. “I want to see what we’ve caught ourselves.”
There was a bustle of movement somewhere behind Madison, and then he heard the sound of flint being struck. A hazy yellow light flared up moments later and then grew brighter as it was carried forward, casting a small bit of illumination in the area.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” the man remarked. “Just never know what lady luck is going to deliver to us, eh boys?” There was a general clamor of agreement and a few even laughed openly. “I thought we were gonna make it all the way to the auction without anything to put on display but burnt-out old men and cripples, and here we have us a prime specimen delivered right to us.”
Madison stared up into the man’s face with utter contempt. He was short and slightly pudgy with fat, round cheeks and slightly-droopy eyes. He was missing a few teeth when he smiled, and those he still had looked yellow and discolored, although it may have been a trick of the light—but Madison doubted it.
The man reached forward and grabbed Madison around his mouth and squeezed his cheeks together so that his lips were forced open. “Oh damn, boys. He’s got all his teeth and everything! And look at these pretty clothes he’s wearing! I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything such as these before.” He grabbed a fold of Madison’s shirt and rubbed it between his fingers as if he were appraising fine silk at a high-end tailor. “Oh, I think we caught us a fine one indeed, boys. “Don’t you know you shouldn’t be out wanderin’ around when the fog’s this thick, boy?” he taunted, pressing his face forward until it was inches away from Madison’s.
“Yeah, real dangerous,” a second agreed happily.
“You might wander up on something you don’t want to find!” a third finished with a laugh.
They all chuckled at Madison’s expense, and the two men behind him dragged him to his feet. Madison had finally caught his breath a bit, and he asked through gasps of breath, “What’s your problem, asshole? What the hell do you want from me?”
The man eyed him suspiciously, leaning in closer. “You wouldn’t be offering to buy your way out, would you?”
Various different scenarios flashed through Madison’s mind. He didn’t have a single thing to his credit. The only things he owned were the clothes he was wearing and his shoes, and those weren’t really much of a bargaining chip. With him tied up the way he was, they could just strip him naked and take whatever they wanted. He glanced back and forth between the two men he could see and quickly decided that he was better off not calling attention to the fact that every stitch of clothing he had on was infinitely better than the soiled rags they were wearing. Rather than answering, he forced himself to start coughing again. It started off as a fake cough, but his throat was so torn up that it quickly became the real thing.
“Argh,” the man groaned, pulling away as quickly as he could.
“Tie him up with the rest, boys, and make sure he’s first on the lead. I don’t want him dragging none. Wouldn’t want to damage our new property on the very first day!”
Madison was shoved forward from behind, and he almost tripped again. If it wasn’t for the two men on either side of him holding him upright, he probably would have gone down for a second time. His ribs throbbed from where he had been kicked so many times, and he knew that they were going to be bruised if they weren’t already. Still, it wasn’t the worst pain he had ever felt. It hadn’t really done more than knock the air out of him and force him to comply.
He was pressed up against the back of a wooden cart, and one of the men unhooked a rope that was already tied there. It was threaded through the rope that was holding his wrists together and then retied. It was a simple and crude leash, but it was more than enough to guarantee he’d have to follow along wherever they wanted. His only other option was to stop walking and be dragged behind the cart like dead weight.
If they’re serious about tying me to a lead and marching me around behind a wagon, the last thing they want to do is make it so that I can’t walk. They were probably pulling their kicks just enough to get the point home without seriously hurting me.
There wasn’t enough lead for him to sit down, so he just stood there and watched after the three men left. They started moving around in the fog, picking things up off the ground, and he realized that they were getting ready to break camp. They must have done exactly as they taunted him for not doing: when the heavy fog rolled in during the night, they decided to stay put where they were until some of it burned off. It gave them a couple extra hours of rest and saved them the headache of trying to navigate through the woods under a blanket of impenetrable fog. It had been bad enough on him alone trying to pick his way along, and he could only imagine how awful it would be with a cart.
He glanced behind him and could just barely make out the shape of human bodies on the ground behind him. He didn’t have enough slack in the rope to sit down, but they apparently did. That must have been what I tripped over, he realized. I actually tripped over one of their legs. If it hadn’t been for that, I’d have probably wandered through the camp completely unnoticed. After all, those guys didn’t make a move until I was already on the ground.
<
br /> That thought struck him as odd, and he furrowed up his brow as he thought about what it implied. Does that mean that they didn’t set a watch? Or that the man on watch allowed me to walk into the camp undetected. There’s always a possibility that any man on guard might have fallen asleep, but if you’re guarding prisoners, it doesn’t seem likely. You’d have to be an over-confident fool to fall asleep next to someone who would likely kill you to gain their freedom. So, either the man on watch is an idiot, or . . . Or the entire thing was a trap.
He twisted his head back and peered down the rope at the bodies strewn out on the ground there. The men had lit a few more torches, which helped with visibility a bit, but it was still impossible to see more than a few feet at a time. I was only moved a short way before being pressed up against the cart as he secured me to it, so if it was a trap, that means I didn’t trip; I was tripped. Someone did this to me on purpose. But why? Who would put someone else into the same predicament he was in?
With those questions running through his head, Madison settled in against the wagon and prepared himself as best he could to wait. The men were busy breaking camp, but he had no idea how long it would be before they actually started moving. No one had bothered getting any of the other prisoners onto their feet yet, so he doubted that it was going to be anytime soon.
Before long, however, he realized that his assumptions were wrong. One of the men walked up to the line and shouted an unintelligible order, and Madison listened as several people stood up behind him. Judging by the noise, there were quite a few back there. No one uttered so much as a sound as they stood up, and almost as soon as they were on their feet, the same man gave a second shout, and the cart lurched forward.
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