by Casey Hays
Mona, on the other hand, is now faced with a terrible dilemma. I’m supposed to be the next leader. Fate determined it in Mona’s mind, and Mona will never cross Fate. She proves this time and time again. But she can make us both wish that Fate had made a different choice.
And Mia? This is her fault. I scowl angrily. She had no right to interfere. She has made a mess of things. Bitterness clouds my thoughts.
I ease down flat on the mat and close my eyes. My mind begins to fog over and shut down, but in the cloudy vagueness, I remember Ian. I have to save him.
I only make it to my elbows before dizziness swarms around inside my head. A guttural sound escapes my lips, and I fall back. Maybe I’ll rest . . . for just a minute.
Chapter 16
“In my anguish I cried to the Lord, and he answered me by setting me free. The Lord is with me; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?” Psalm 118:5-6
My mind is thick with a groggy blackness. My head aches, throbbing against my temples as consciousness slowly returns. I try to focus through the pain, try to open my heavy eyelids.
Something presses against my head, and I wince away from it. I peer at the shadow sitting just inches from me, a wet cloth dripping from her fingers. Candlelight shimmers against the walls, causing an eerie glow. Mia.
“What do you want?” My voice is still full of sleep, but I make certain she doesn’t miss the animosity in my tone.
“I want to help.” She wrings the cloth over a bowl and raises it to my head again. I knock her hand away, and she sits back on her heels, exasperated. “Kate, you have to stop letting things like this happen to you.”
“You want to help me?” I choke back a laugh and suck in a breath as pain races through my entire body. I moan, trying to sit up. But dizziness answers, and I have to ease myself back against the mat. “If this is your idea of helping, I’ll find someone else.”
It suddenly strikes me that this scenario is becoming all too familiar: me, lying on my mat, wrenching in pain from a whipping or a beating; Mia, nursing me back to health.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know this would happen. I didn’t want your mate hurting you anymore. I never dreamed this would be the result of reporting it to Mona.” Tears trickle down her cheeks, but she makes no sound. If I wasn’t looking at her, I wouldn’t know she was crying at all. “I’m sorry. I thought she would help you.”
I snort softly and turn toward the wall. “Apparently you don’t know Mona at all. She doesn’t help anyone.”
Mia begins to sniffle quietly, the cloth in her hands still dripping. I close my eyes and listen to the plop, plop, plop of each drop of water as it hits the floor. Plop, plop, plop. It reminds me of time passing.
My eyes fly open.
Oh no! Ian!
“What time of day is it?”
Mia shrinks out of my way as I sit upright, ignoring the pain, squeezing my eyes shut until the blackness fades back into light again.
“It’s nearly dawn,” she says, wiping her eyes with the back of one hand. “Why?”
I leap from the mat, staggering clumsily when my feet awkwardly hit the floor. Dawn? No! A swarm of dizziness consumes me. I squeeze my eyes closed tightly again and hold out my hands to steady myself.
“What are you doing, Kate?”
“I have to get to the Pit.” I stumble toward the door, fall to my knees just as I reach it. I grab for the door frame and pull myself back up. I’m panting just from this effort, and I’m keenly aware that my chances of making it to the Pit in this condition are slim. I curse under my breath. Everything would have been fine if Mia hadn’t meddled. This is her fault!
“You can barely move.” She wraps an arm around my shoulders, attempting to lead me back to the mat. I struggle against her. “You’ve been through too much, Kate. You can’t go to the Pit.”
“I have to! I promised him!” I yank away from her and double over in pain, hands on my knees. “She’s going to kill him!”
My eyes desperately search her face, looking for any hint of sympathy. Somewhere inside there, the old Mia must still exist. The Mia who used to make up songs with me under the trees—songs of faithful friendships and dreams that outweighed all the odds. The Mia who nursed a baby owl back to health after it fell from its nest and landed just inside the nursery wall. The Mia who gave up her loaf of bread when she was eight—the loaf she’d proudly baked herself in the nursery kitchen—for three little girls who simply looked at her with big, brown, longing eyes. If I could only reach that Mia—the compassionate Mia who would give her life for another—perhaps then she’d see things my way.
But Mia only blows air sharply through her pursed lips, shakes her head, and characteristically pushes a strand of black hair behind her ear. She crosses her arms. “Why is this so important to you? Why are you willing to sacrifice so much for a dog?”
And I see that there is no chance of reaching her. That Mia died on her sixteenth birthday.
“He’s not a dog.” I’m desperate to make her see. Frustration whirls around inside me like an angry beast. “Don’t you understand? He’s a person just like you and me who deserves to live. He deserves to go home to his family. He deserves to be free.” I feel hot tears when I think of Ian, fighting to cope with his imprisonment, longing for home like a thirsty man desperate for a cool drink of water. I fight against the tears, but they come anyway. “He shouldn’t be forced into this way of life, and he certainly shouldn’t die for it.”
Mia stares at me in shock. How can I feel this way about a dog? How could I have let my heart get sucked into the Pit? Like Meg. I know this is what she thinks; I see it reflected in her eyes. But she doesn’t know Ian. To her, he is just stock, not worth saving. It isn’t only about Ian, though. No. Mia doesn’t understand because she won’t allow herself to see the men as anything more than stock. And until she does, she will never see how different things in the Village could be by simply changing our way of thinking. Different . . . and better.
“I will not let this happen to him.” I take hold of both of Mia’s hands, and all the desperation I’m feeling pours out. “I need your help,” I whisper. “Please.”
“No. No, I can’t.” She pulls away. “Don’t ask me to, Kate. I can’t stand up against Mona. You have been fortunate, but I would not survive her.”
I sigh. Fleshed out before me is the underlying problem of the entire village. I see it so plainly in Mia. Everyone is too afraid. Even Layla’s death was a controlling factor. Mona has the women where she wants them, and for them, wanting something more, standing up against injustice, trying to go one step in a direction that Mona has not granted is not worth the risk.
But I’m not asking for an uprising today. One life. One life is all I want to save. I raise my eyes.
“If you help me, you hurt her.”
Mia tenses. “Why would I want to hurt her? This is a dangerous proposition, Kate.”
“Mona is only one person.” I straighten, wanting to be certain she understands my meaning. “You don’t have to be afraid of her.”
“Yes, Kate. Mona is only one person, but look at what that one person has done to you.” Her dark eyes plead with me. “Look what she did to Layla! She is too strong. All we can do is obey. Show her our loyalty.”
“Please, Mia. Just—help me get to the Pit. Once we’re there, you can go. No one has to know.” We’re running out of time. I use my final bargaining chip. “You owe me.”
Mia hesitates. Despite the fact that terror is sketched all over her face, her eyes give me the answer I’m looking for, and I sigh in relief.
“I don’t like this,” she says. “I don’t know what you think to gain from it, except another beating. You will fail.”
“If you help me, perhaps I won’t.”
After another stiff, uncomfortably long minute of her considering my words, and me waiting impatiently for her to agree, she nods, and my heart leaps with hope. I promised Ian I’d get him out. I don’t break promises, and I d
on’t want to begin now.
Mia shakes her head in resignation, a frown pulling her full lips downward at the corners, but I smile. Perhaps my old friend is still buried inside there after all. A little more digging, and I just might reach her.
>--->
It is still dark when we slip out of the hogan and scurry toward the dirt path that leads to the Pit. Scurry is not necessarily the best term. More like hobble, with me clutching my side and heavily leaning on Mia for support. She shakes uncontrollably. Her breathing puffs out in short, panicked gasps. She does her best to hold me up. I’m terribly sore. We can only move so quickly.
Mia continuously casts quick glances over her shoulder, expecting any minute the Council will appear brandishing multiple weapons.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Her whisper is full of trembling. “This mate of yours better be worth it. I don’t want to die for a lost cause.”
“You aren’t going to die. Beaten a little, maybe. In fact, I should do that myself.”
“Kate! How many times do I have to apologize? I was trying to help you.”
“And thank you for nothing.”
Mia shifts my weight roughly. I wince as pain shoots through the slash on my head, throbbing.
“Ouch!”
“Sorry.”
She doesn’t sound one bit sorry.
“Mia . . .” I glance at her, ready to confess. “It’s not . . . necessarily your fault.”
“What?”
“Mona didn’t care for my . . . tone. So she taught me a lesson. It had more to do with her ego than it did with me. Or Ian.”
“Oh.” Mia seems relieved. “Good. So are you still angry with me?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
“Let’s just hurry. We don’t have much time.”
We reach the Pit just as the first hint of light begins to show itself through the trees. I halt at the edge and peer over. The jailers are still inside the barracks.
“We need to get the ladder down as quietly as we can. Can you do that?”
Mia looks skeptical, but she lifts the ladder by one end and hauls it over. With what little help I can give, we maneuver it down into the Pit as soundlessly as possible. I glance toward the barracks. Nothing.
“Thank you, Mia. I think I can manage from here.”
“Are you sure? You aren’t going to pass out or anything?”
I laugh. It hurts.
“I should be fine.”
“All right.” She looks doubtful. “But I’ll stay here until you get down. I don’t want it to be my fault if you fall.”
I nod, placing a gentle hand on her arm. “I’m not angry anymore. I know you only did what you thought was best.”
Mia’s shoulders sink in relief. She gives me a quick hug.
A noise comes from the Pit. I turn. A jailer saunters out of the barracks followed by another one. Together, Mia and I hit the ground. I cringe painfully. A puff of dust swoops up around us.
We peer over the edge. In the dimness, we see one jailer stir the fire under a kettle, and the flames come to life flashing red against her face. The other makes her way toward the outhouse. Thankfully, neither one of them bothers to look in our direction. We hold still, barely allowing breath to leave our lungs.
After a minute, the jailer returns from the outhouse and goes back inside. The other gives the boiling kettle of porridge a couple more stirs and disappears inside as well.
“Now hurry.” Mia’s on her feet, suddenly taking command of the situation. She ushers me toward the ladder. “The sun will be rising soon. Do whatever it is you are planning to do, and get out of here.” She pauses. “And Kate?”
I take one last, long look at my friend.
“Be careful.”
With a painful huff, I fling one leg over the edge and onto the top rung. As quietly as possible, I move down the ladder, glancing over my shoulder every once in a while at the barracks.
“Kate!” Mia’s voice is a hushed whisper echoing down into the Pit. I pause and look up. She lies flat on her stomach, her head dangling out over the edge. “Maybe I should stay. Pull the ladder up until you come back. Then the jailers won’t suspect that anyone is here.”
I think a minute. It’s not a bad idea. Risky, but still . . . .
Yet how can I ask Mia to take such a risk? She doesn’t need to be any more involved than she already is.
“No. I don’t want anyone to know you helped me if I get caught. Go back to the Village.”
Mia nods gratefully. “See you soon.”
See you soon. She says it as if it’s a wish rather than a fact. See you soon. Hope you don’t die in the process. Maybe we’ll meet again, and maybe we won’t.
She disappears, and I shuffle the rest of the way down. All is quiet still. I limp toward the back of the Pit and Ian’s cave, keeping an uneasy eye on the barracks.
Once I pass the barracks, I pick up my pace. All around me, the caves are silent, gaping mouths with smiling bamboo teeth, their prisoners hidden inside. The air suddenly feels cold, and with the shift in temperature, a sharp sadness stabs at my heart for the stock—these voluntary prisoners—trained up to want nothing and to expect even less. Unlike Ian, they have no desire to escape. It seems senseless to lock the caves at all or to bother pulling up the ladder. For what? Security reasons? Why would they even try to leave?
In a minute, Ian will be free. He’ll go back to his life in Eden and do his best to forget he ever knew of this place. But these others will continue the life of the stock, unaware that any other form exists. It sends a chill through me because I know I should have been trained, too—trained not to care so much about dogs. Sometimes, I wish I didn’t.
I have Ian to thank for this. Even with his passionate temper—or perhaps because of it—he’s given me a different view of males. And I will never view the stock in the same way again.
I reach Ian’s cell. It’s too dark to see him. Behind me, the sun is barely beginning to peek over the surrounding mountains. I see no more signs of life from the barracks, but my heart lurches with fear all the same. We have to hurry.
“Ian!” My voice carries through the bars and echoes along the walls. Silence answers. “Ian!”
Suddenly he’s there, his eyes fuzzy with sleep, his hair tousled. He grips the gate.
“Kate? What are you doing?” He scans the area behind me, confused that no large gatekeeper is here to let me in. He spots the gash on the side of my head where my hair is matted with blood. “What happened to you?”
“Ian, listen. Mona is coming, and she’s going to kill you.”
My words spill out in a jumbled rush. Ian stares at me, his eyes wide.
“Why?” he finally manages.
“Because she thinks you hit me.”
His eyes widen just a bit more. I glance behind me.
“I did hit you.” He grips the bars tightly and leans his head against them. “Oh man.”
I wrap my own fingers around his. “It doesn’t matter why. If it hadn’t been for this, she would have found some other reason later. The point is that we have to get you out. Now!”
Ian nods dumbly.
“I’m going to look for something to break the lock.”
I scan the Pit, searching for anything that might be used to crush the lock. It’s only made of wood, but it is good, solid wood. It will not be easy to break open.
A few paces over, nestled between the gates of two other caves, a wooden shack stands. I’ve never noticed it before. I stumble over to it.
The door is slightly ajar. It’s a storage shed for tools. Shovels and rakes, all made of the same solid wood. I pick up a hammer and raise a surprised brow at the same moment. The head is metal.
It’s rare to find metal in the Village. And so I’m shocked to see this—and completely overjoyed.
Back at the cave, I hold up the hammer.
“I found this.”
“That should do it.”
He steps
back. I raise it over the lock and strike hard. Wood splinters with a loud crack. The noise echoes, but not too loudly. I check the barracks and yank on the lock. It doesn’t budge. Quickly, I smash the hammer into the wood again. This time it shatters in half. Twisting it off, I pull open the gate and plunge through, slamming the gate shut behind me.
Ian is ecstatic. I can feel his excitement in the air.
“Well, if I’d known it was that easy, I would have had you bring me that hammer a long time ago!”
I peer through the bars at the barracks. I can’t believe the jailers have heard nothing. In my own ears, the sound of cracking wood was louder than roaring wind. I wait another minute as the sun inches into the sky. I know we should go before it gets any higher, but fear holds me to my place.
Ian comes to my side and looks out.
“Should we go?”
Our eyes meet. We should go. Panic racing through me, I nod.
“Okay,” he says. “Let’s do this.”
He pushes open the gate, checks his surroundings, and steps out. I wait a second longer before following.
Outside, he inhales deeply. His smile brings a tear to my eye.
“I’m out!”
He does a little dance. I tug on his arm. Celebrating will have to wait. It’s light enough for the breakfast cart now.
“Come on.”
Together, we hustle across the wide Pit for the ladder. My adrenaline is pumping. It feels like the sun is rising faster than my heart is beating. My head throbs in time with my pulse.
“This wasn’t exactly how I’d envisioned my escape, you know?” Ian clings to my hand. “We were supposed to do this at night, with nobody on our tail until we were long gone.”
“I know,” I pant. I look at him. He sounds as if he expects me to go with him as he suggested. “It couldn’t be helped.”
Relief floods me when we reach the ladder. I climb with Ian close on my heels. Almost there. We’ve done it!
At the top, he pulls the ladder up, and I can finally breathe. His eyes search the freedom around him, and he smiles.
“It feels weird being out after all this time.”