Badlands (Spent Shells, #1)

by Hunter, Bijou

  When I kneel in front of her, Frida’s eyes lower submissively.

  “Neri will get supplies. Is there anything you need besides clothes?”

  Exhausted and reeking of melancholy, Frida shakes her head.

  I rest my hand on the child’s bare foot. Until now, I hadn’t noticed she was without shoes.

  “How old is Anika?” I ask.

  Once Frida answers, I give her a reassuring smile. Neri joins us and uses an app on her phone to take measurements of Frida and Anika’s feet.

  As my sister goes to the door, I reassure our charges, “I need to speak to Neri outside. Rest and drink water to settle your stomachs. Watch TV. Do not make any calls.”

  Frida’s expression almost changes when I mention the phone. I’m curious if she has anyone she can call. This is a question for later.

  Once outside in the hot, dry evening, I scan for potential threats.

  “We stand out,” my sister whispers, glancing at an older couple struggling to remove their suitcase from a compact car. “Everyone sees us.”

  “We’ve put hundreds of miles between that place and us.”

  My sister scans the parking lot for threats before lowering her voice to say, “This state is littered with compounds full of militias, cults, and other crazies. We might have left one behind, but they could be connected to many others. This hotel might be in their territory.”

  If Neri and I were running, we’d drive day and night until we reached an airport or the coast. But we have other concerns now.

  “The child needed out of the car.”

  “I understand,” Neri says, softening her tone. “She’s small and confused. She didn’t even seem to understand the cartoon you showed her on the phone. What she needs is quiet and time, but we lack those luxuries, brother.”

  As the older couple enters their room three doors down from ours, I say, “We need papers for Frida and Anika. There must be someone in this state or nearby willing to offer sanctuary.”

  Neri struggles against laughter until I smirk at her silent teasing. “You know he won’t be happy,” she finally says.

  “That’s why you’ll make the call. Butter him up, too. You know Papa can’t withstand your charms.”

  My sister chuckles quietly while dialing our father. He answers on the second ring.

  “Papa, how are you?” she asks in Spanish.

  “I stayed too long on the water. Are you safe?”

  “Yes, Papa.”

  “What’s happened?” he grumbles, and I frown at how Neri tipped him off with all her “papa” talk.

  “Kai met a woman. Her name is Frida.”

  “Is she a trickster?” he asks, and Neri giggles at our father’s term.

  “No, Papa, she’s a lost soul.”

  “What does that mean?” he asks as his voice turns harder, colder.

  “Kai stole her from her masters. Men who live in a compound and by their own laws. The woman has a child. We hope to provide them safe passage to Nicaragua.”

  Without hesitation, Papa says, “No.”

  As much as I admire and love my father, he can be stubborn and selfish. He’ll suffer to protect those within our family, of course. But, for outsiders, he can be downright cruel.

  Taking the phone, I keep my temper in check. “She’s mine, and I refuse to give her up. We need papers for her and the child.”

  “Why her?”

  “Why anyone or anything?” I ask and then add, “My heart demands this woman.”

  “Force it to submit to your common sense.”

  “Papa,” Neri says, softening her tone. “She cannot return to those people. Not after what happened. Or after what we did,” she says, stressing the word “we.”

  Our father has trouble saying no to Neri. It’s the only reason she joined me on this holiday. If it were up to Papa, Neri would never leave his sight. He fears the world will do to her what it did to our mother.

  “Are you in danger?” Papa finally asks.

  “While we’ve created some distance between the enemy and us, it’s not enough. We need a sanctuary and papers for the woman and child.”

  “Will leaving them behind offer you safety?”

  When I glare at my sister, she only waves off my concerns. “Papa, she wears the broken gaze of Mama. The awful man picked up her child as if she was a toy and threw her. They have nowhere else to go, and abandoning them would result in their deaths. You didn’t raise us to be so cruel.”

  “I raised you to be smart,” he grumbles, knowing how she plays with his heart. “To be wary of trouble.”

  “Kai saw the woman and knew she belonged to him. He couldn’t walk away. It made no sense to me, but once the man hit Frida and threw her child, I couldn’t walk away either. Not when I know how to destroy such evil.”

  Papa growls full of frustration. He didn’t want us in this country and away from his protection. I promised Neri would be safe with me. Now I’ve placed a huge target on his little girl. I have no doubt I’ll suffer plenty of lectures when we return. First, though, he needs us home.

  “Where are you?”

  “A place called Tempest off the I-98.”

  After a few seconds, Papa says, “You’re several hours away from people who can help. Can you go now?”

  “The child needs rest,” I insist.

  “Don’t be foolish, boy.”

  “She’s so small, Papa. Don’t you remember how Neri couldn’t sit still when she was little?”

  My father knows I’m toying with his heart. He will no doubt punish me for playing this game. Not today, of course.

  “Leave soon,” he finally says. “You’re in a land riddled with cancer. This is not a game. You will be destroyed if you don’t take your situation seriously.”

  “We understand, Papa,” Neri promises. “Send us the information, and we’ll leave before dawn.”

  Though unsure the child will be ready to travel so soon, I know my sister can be hard in a way I can’t.

  My heart truly did claim Frida, and I can’t be persuaded to sacrifice her or her child. Not even for my father.

  FRIDA

  Anika and I whisper the words. We are dirt. We are from the earth. We are left wanting. We yield to a higher power. We submit to the Children of the Black Sun.

  Outside the room, Kai and his sister speak of our future. I can’t imagine where we’ll go. The world felt small at the homestead. It didn’t seem much bigger when I was a child. When I overheard the shepherds speak of the outside world, they talked of violence, disarray, godlessness, and debauchery.

  But the two stops we made today didn’t seem to be in a state of war. I saw no vile behavior. No one tried to steal my child or murder me.

  But the food did make Anika ill. She’s so pale since she vomited. I threw up some too. Was the food poisoned? Or too different from what I’ve eaten for years? I also remember how my mother used to get car sick. Is that what this is?

  I carry my baby to the bed where we rest. She reaches for me when I step away.

  “Mama.”

  “Water.”

  Sitting up, she looks ready to vomit again. In her hand is the colorful toy. I wish she had a room full of them like I did as a child. My grandparents gave me so many toys.

  But none of them came to the homestead. Once Mom was dead, everything from that life was left behind.

  After a little instruction, Anika learns how to sip the water from the water bottle. She looks at her dress, damp from where I wiped away the vomit.

  “Sick.”

  Nodding, I think about how little my daughter speaks. At the restaurant, a child her age used so many words. Anika says so few. Every time she wanted to speak, someone at the homestead hushed her. Jedidiah claimed women have no reason to speak since God made them empty-headed.

  “I love you,” I say in a voice louder than I’m allowed at the homestead. “You are my daughter, and I love you.”

  Anika’s smile grows. Her hair is a mess, and she sm
ells of vomit, but I only see my light.

  I try to put on the TV so she can watch cartoons like a normal child would. I haven’t seen “SpongeBob SquarePants” since I was little. I don’t remember the show well, but the familiar name makes me smile. Then Anika sees SpongeBob and lets out a horrified scream.

  Fumbling with the remote, I can’t figure out the right button. I give up trying to turn off the ugly thing and reach for her.

  “It’s just pretend,” I whisper as she clings to me and hides her face.

  Anika doesn’t know what pretend means. She’s never watched TV. She doesn’t know what lies or entertainment means. Earlier, she shied away from Kai’s phone, where a cartoon played. She didn’t understand, and I don’t know how to explain it.

  Throwing open the door, Kai hurries with such speed that I flinch. He speaks in the other language first and then remembers I don’t understand. “What happened?”

  I only stare at him. He’s everything—both a devil capable of crushing me and an angel offering heaven.

  Kai cups my face. His warm skin electrifies me. Without thinking, I pull away. I don’t deserve to be touched by such beauty. Except that rejecting him is the wrong choice. I should allow him to touch me. Do whatever he wants. Freedom isn’t free.

  “Why is she upset?” he purrs in his accented voice.

  I force the words out in a whisper, “The show.”

  Glancing at the TV, he frowns and then reaches for the remote. Quickly, the room falls silent.

  “We don’t watch TV,” I whisper. “She doesn’t understand.”

  Kai studies my face, and I imagine he sees a useless whore. It’s all I see on the rare occasions that I’ve looked in a mirror.

  “After your day, music might be better,” he says and looks at his phone. “Neri will return soon with supplies to make our trip more comfortable.”

  The soft sound of a song I don’t know begins to play from his phone. Kai sets it on the side table. Then his gaze returns to me.

  “I seek to keep you,” he says. “Do you understand?”

  Shaking my head, I don’t want him to speak. When I stare in his eyes, happiness seems possible. Words only remind me of how little time I have left.

  “They’ll kill us when they come,” I blurt out.

  “Not if I kill them first.”

  “Who are you?” I whisper.

  “A man with skills.”

  I look at my daughter, now watching the phone. She hears the music and wants to enjoy the pretty sounds. Fear keeps her against me, though.

  “I have nothing to offer you,” I whisper when I look back at Kai.

  “I want you to be mine.”

  “Mine, how?”

  Kai takes my hand and rests it on his chest. The feel of his heartbeat hypnotizes me. He’s the devil, offering a taste of the pleasures that the Children of the Black Sun refused me.

  “Why?”

  “A man knows.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Why would you?” he says, seeming amused. “But today is only the beginning. Soon, you’ll understand.”

  Kai’s gaze leaves my face and focuses on Anika. She notices him watching her and tightens her grip on my dress.

  “Are you in pain?” he asks, brushing his fingers over the lump on her forehead. “Where the monster hurt you.”

  Refusing to react, Anika knows better than to trust a man.

  Kai doesn’t become angry by her silence. He only returns his gaze to me. “Clearly, the fast food from lunch didn’t suit your stomachs. What would you prefer?”

  “We ate potatoes at the homestead.”

  Kai studies me with his golden-brown eyes, and I feel stupid for not knowing more.

  “Soup might be best,” he says softly. “Something freshly made rather than processed.”

  “Processed?”

  “How long have you lived with those people?”

  “I don’t know. Ten years. Maybe less, maybe more. We don’t have calendars in the hutch.”

  Kai’s gaze holds mine. I notice a flicker of anger in his eyes, but then he smiles. “I’ll message Neri to ask her if the store sells something fresh for you and Anika.”

  Hearing her name, my baby tightens her grip on my dress, but she’s mostly interested in his phone. When he picks it up and texts his sister, Anika frowns at how the music gets quieter.

  “Do you like the song, Anika?” he asks, noticing her reaction without seeming to have looked at her at all.

  My daughter looks to me for reassurance. She wants the music, and she seemed curious earlier when Neri tried to show her a game, but she’s mostly just afraid. I am too.

  “Neri will bring food,” he says and turns the music back up.

  Then he shows the phone to Anika, whose brown eyes widen.

  “Push this button here,” he instructs, gesturing to an icon on the screen.

  I instantly remember playing with my mother’s phone when I was younger. She said she might buy me one for the upcoming Christmas. Then she was dead, and I left behind the trappings of the old world.

  Anika obeys Kai. Her little finger presses the forward button, and the song changes. He smiles at her, and she smiles back.

  “Want to push it again?”

  Looking to me for permission, Anika sits up and waits for the chance to play with the phone. I tell her she can press it.

  Kai lets her change the song again and again. He shows her how to go back to the ones she likes and how to skip those she doesn’t.

  Her smile breaks my heart. Why shouldn’t she be like the kids I saw at the restaurant? Anika deserves to have fun and play and talk when she wants. She deserves the kind of childhood I had before my father ruined everything.

  “My mother finds simple joy in her snow globes,” Kai says in his feather-like voice. “Nothing grand. Just little things she’s found over the years. When she’s lost in her head, she lines them up and shakes each one. It calms her. Just as Anika finds pleasure in these songs and learning a new trick. The simple joys are always the best.”

  Kai’s hand rests on mine, and I wonder what he sees on my face. His expression is filled with concern.

  “One day, your pain will fade like a bad dream.”

  His words promise what I can’t believe to be true. Nothing in the world feels real to me anymore. Only Anika keeps me from giving up. For Kai to offer a chance at more feels almost cruel.

  But there’s a determination in his gaze that demands my heart believe the impossible.

  KAI

  Neri goes on a shopping spree—clothes, blankets, pillows, food, toys, and hair bleach. My sister explains the bedding will keep the child comfortable during the drive. The toys are small and won’t take up much room, but Anika is clearly easy to please.

  The little girl smiles so beautifully when I show her how to change songs on my phone. Such a simple thing enchants the child. Her innocence reminds me of my beloved mother.

  “Did you fall deeply in love while I was gone?” Neri asks in Spanish as we carry in bags of supplies.

  “Very much so. It was sublime.”

  “Fantastic.”

  We share a smile before she kneels in front of Anika and Frida.

  “Don’t overwhelm them with all your purchases,” I warn, still speaking in Spanish.

  “Hush, elder one,” Neri says and then switches to English. “I have clothes for you and the child, but first, you should eat the soup while it’s fresh and warm.”

  Frida is wary of the food, but her daughter whimpers in response to the mouth-watering scent waffling from the Styrofoam container.

  “Mama?” Anika whispers.

  I don’t know if Frida is always this meek or if she’s worn out after a long day, but she takes a full minute to respond. Finally, the willowy creature reaches for the container and the spoon in Neri’s hands.

  While Frida feeds Anika and takes sips of the broth herself, I join my sister at the dresser.

  “Why the bl
each?” I ask.

  “We’ll look more American if we’re blond.”

  “No, we’ll look silly,” I say, running a hand through my dark, wavy hair.

  “They are searching for two Hispanics with a long-haired brunette and a child.”

  “Blond hair won’t make us less Hispanic, and who is the ‘they’ you speak of? I’ve seen nothing in the news about today.”

  “Don’t be naïve. People here have assumptions about Hispanics. Blond hair will throw them off. As for whoever might be searching for us, I don’t know, but why not be safe?”

  I narrow my eyes and mutter, “You just want to bleach your hair.”

  “No, dear brother,” she says as her dark eyes sparkle with humor, “my dream is to bleach your hair.”

  “No.”

  “You are putting us at risk. What would Papa think?”

  Despite knowing Neri’s right, I wave off her concern. “I need you to take charge of certain things.”

  “What things?”

  “Cleaning them up, dressing them, asking personal issues.”

  “Why me?”

  Sighing, I mumble, “You know why.”

  “Yes, but I want you to admit I’m better than you.”

  “That’s not why. It’s that you’re a girl.”

  “A woman, Kai,” Neri sighs. “I’m a grown woman.”

  “I respect that.”

  Snickering at my expression, she winks and walks to them.

  “I hope it’s okay, but I bought Anika a small stuffed animal. Nothing extravagant, but she liked that little thing from the meal today.”

  Frida and Anika have very different reactions to the small plush duckling. The child’s eyes light up, and she looks expectantly at her mother for permission to take it. Frida lowers her gaze, fighting some emotion I can’t read.

  Neri leans closer and whispers, “There is no shame in wanting more.”

  “I give her nothing.”

  “You gave her life. Now let us help you.”

  Frida looks to the child who thinks the delay in a yes means her mother won’t let her have the toy. Lowering her head like her mother does, she submits to her disappointment.

  Taking the duckling, Frida strokes her daughter’s cheek with the soft toy. “Tell Neri ‘thank you.’”