The Renegade

by Amy Dunne

  Her raised arms slumped and her gun clattered to the ground, followed a second later by the rest of her body. A thunderous sound filled her ears, and for a moment she thought perhaps there was a helicopter overhead. We need to hide so they don’t see us. Her vision faded into darkness, and with relief, she realised the deafening sound of propellers was only her blood rushing in her ears. Exhaustion, mixed with the stinging of pins and needles, travelled down her spine and spread out through her limbs.

  Chapter Nine

  Evelyn hugged Jamie to her body. His small shoulders shook as he sobbed against her chest. “It’s okay,” she whispered. She planted a kiss on top of the mop of sandy hair. “I need you to be brave for me. Okay?”

  He finally looked up at her. His eyes were puddled, his nose runny, and his cheeks tearstained. “I can’t.”

  She wiped his cheeks gently. “I know you can. This is a horrible situation for both of us. If I could stop it or change it in any way, I would. But I can’t.”

  “I hate Elijah.”

  She pressed a finger to his lips. “You must never say that. If someone heard it, it could be really dangerous for both of us. Do you understand me?” A frown creased his forehead and a hefty tear clung to his eyelashes. “Jamie?” she asked more firmly.

  “Yeah,” he said.

  “Okay.” She caught the tear on her finger. “The next few days, weeks even, are going to take some getting used to.”

  “I don’t want to not be with you. I’m scared.”

  She wanted to say she was scared, too, but knew it’d only worry him more. “It’s okay to be scared. But we have a secret weapon that’s going to give us the strength to get through this.”

  His eyes grew wider and he moved in closer. His interest spiked.

  “We have a bond that’s stronger than anything. It’s with us all the time. No matter how far apart we are, or for how long, it keeps us connected.”

  “Mum,” he said in a whiny tone followed with a big sigh. Disappointment slumped his shoulders. “That’s a story for babies.”

  “No, it isn’t,” she said, sitting taller. “Close your eyes. Go on.” She watched as he reluctantly clenched his eyes shut. “Now, this bond we have gets stronger when we’re apart. Think of it like we both have a phone in our chest.”

  A smile twitched his lips. “That’s stupid.”

  “Just hear me out. Do you love me?”

  He nodded his head enthusiastically. “Yeah. More than anything.”

  She fought against the lump lodging in her throat. Time was running out and she needed to ensure Jamie was going to be okay. “Good, because I love you more than anything, too. Where does it hurt when you think about us being apart?”

  He frowned again and then placed a small hand to the left side of his chest. “Here.”

  “That’s because it’s your heart that’s hurting. My heart hurts, too. It’s a good thing. That’s where our bond is. It means that the other person loves us and is thinking about us.”

  He opened his eyes but he didn’t look convinced. “Why can’t I see it?”

  “Our bond?”

  “Yeah.” He was patting his chest.

  “It’s invisible. That way no one else knows about it.”

  “Cool.”

  “It’s very cool. It can travel through walls, locked doors, and up stairs. And best of all, it can’t be destroyed by anything or anyone.”

  “Not even Elijah?”

  “Definitely not Elijah. So tonight, when you’re missing me and feel scared or sad, just remember our bond. I’ll be thinking about you, too. Then first thing tomorrow I’ll come and find you. Okay?”

  With a quivering thick bottom lip, he sniffed and nodded.

  A loud knock sounded on the door.

  “Just a second,” Evelyn said loudly. She wrapped Jamie up in one last, bone-crushing hug, trying to convey her love and grant protection through the physical contact.

  A knock sounded again and so she reluctantly let him go. “I love you, kiddo. Just remember our bond. Be brave and be good.”

  He got off the bed, his expression sombre beyond his young years. He trudged over to the door and opened it. Joe stepped over the threshold, his hand holding on to Matilda’s. He looked harrowed. Dark rings hung beneath both eyes as if he hadn’t slept for weeks, and his complexion was pale. The last two days had taken their toll.

  “Evelyn,” he said, but choked up and couldn’t continue.

  “It’s okay, Joe. I’m fine. Honestly.” She walked over to him and patted his back.

  “Pretty,” Matilda said. Her tiny fingers touched the white material of Evelyn’s dress.

  “Thank you.” Evelyn playfully tweaked one of Matilda’s chubby cheeks. The girl giggled happily. Her blond hair, almost white, today was tied up in two plaits. She was oblivious to the animosity of the adult world around her. Evelyn wished Jamie’s innocence could have been protected, but it was too late.

  “Did you see Gemma on your way here?” Evelyn asked. She was anxious. Time was speeding by and she felt underprepared for what lay ahead.

  Joe shook his head and said, in a hoarse voice, “She’s not in a good way. She spent all last night crying hysterically. I don’t know if she’ll be able to go through with it. I dread to think what they’ll do to her if she doesn’t.”

  “I’m planning on pumping her full of enough pills so she’ll be too out of it to even care what’s happening. Is that unethical?”

  “Darling, at this point, unethical is the least of anyone’s worries. I’m so bloody angry. If I were even ten years younger, I’d put an end to this sordid display myself.” He trembled, jaw clenched.

  “I know you would, but you’d end up getting hurt or worse. Matilda needs you, and so do I. We just need to keep our wits about us.” She daren’t mention the word “escape”, but the curt nod and flash of defiance in his eyes showed he understood what she meant.

  “More than ever. We’ll see you in the hall, then,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion again. “I’m so sorry.”

  She forced a wan smile and nodded. “Me, too. Be good, Jamie.”

  Jamie was on the brink of crying again. He rushed back, squeezed her waist tightly before running from the room. He looked back, and with a sniff, patted his chest. She patted her own chest in response, feeling the flutter of her heart breaking beneath the calm exterior. She watched them disappear down the corridor and out of sight. Closing the door, she finally allowed herself to drop the exhausting façade of being calm and collected. Her tear ducts were sore and empty. She didn’t have any more tears left to cry, and even if she did, she was too exhausted to bother. She was hollow inside, void of all emotions.

  Fleeting realisations of what was going to happen hounded her. She’d never been so trapped or felt so helpless in her life. Worse still was the despair of hopelessness. She couldn’t save herself any more than she could save Gemma, Joe, or Jamie. Under different circumstances, she wouldn’t have hesitated in taking a lethal dose of drugs, but that was cowardly and too many people relied on her.

  She wasn’t giving up entirely. Concealed in her bra was a small packet of powdered tablets. She didn’t have enough to kill Elijah outright, and he’d taste it if she used too much. But there was certainly enough, when mixed into a drink, to make him sick not long after ingestion. The best hope was that it might cut their wedding night short. But she’d only spike his drink if she deemed him drunk enough. It was a poor plan, but it was all she had. And if it worked, she might try to do it on a regular basis—administering her own specific type of conversion therapy.

  The door burst open.

  “Here, you sort her out. I’m sick of the sight of her,” Claire said. She stepped aside and pushed Gemma into the room. Without another word, the evil old witch left, slamming the door behind her.

  Evelyn gasped at the sight of Gemma. She wore a lovely white dress. Her face was blotchy, her nose bright red, and her eyes small and swollen. Tears continued to strea
m down her face. Tired sobs escaped sporadically, like hiccups.

  Evelyn rushed over and hugged her. She wanted to say something soothing, but there wasn’t anything. She stroked Gemma’s long, dark hair and wished she could have done more—anything—to save her from this fate.

  “Gemma, come with me. I’ve got some medicine that will make you feel better,” Evelyn whispered. She took hold of Gemma’s limp hand and guided her over to the bedside cabinet. She’d removed her stash of contraband from the medical room the previous day. It was a million times more risky, as she didn’t have a secure hiding place, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

  Gemma sat on the bed while Evelyn retrieved her bag. With urgency, she popped various different tablets from the plastic sleeves. She gathered a collection for Gemma to take but only three tablets for herself. As tempting as it was to slump into a drug-fuelled stupor and feel nothing, it would only make the situation more dangerous for everyone else. Elijah would know, and he wouldn’t forgive her for ruining his special day.

  “Here you go,” Evelyn said. She tipped the collection of tablets into Gemma’s palm. She pointed to the contraceptive pill. “This one is really important. You need to take it now. Every day, I’ll sneak you one. But you mustn’t tell anyone. Do you understand?”

  “It’s the pill, isn’t it?”

  Evelyn’s stomach dropped and she quickly wrapped her hand around Gemma’s mouth. “Shh.” After a few seconds she moved her hand.

  Wide-eyed, Gemma nodded. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Just don’t ever say it again.”

  “What are the others?” Gemma asked, inspecting each tablet with a fingertip.

  “We’ve not got time for me to explain. You don’t have to take them. I just thought they might help—”

  Gemma popped three in her mouth at a time and gulped them down with water from a glass on the bedside table. She offered the glass to Evelyn.

  “Thanks.” Evelyn swallowed her three tablets: the pill and two tablets that should at least relax her.

  “Why are you marrying him?”

  Evelyn put the glass down and set about hiding her stash again. “It’s complicated,” she said over her shoulder.

  “They told me if I don’t do it, Ben won’t be able to come back to camp. They didn’t go into detail or anything, but the threat was clear.”

  Evelyn sat beside her on the bed. Anger fizzled in her stomach. She should’ve known Elijah and David wouldn’t be any less scrupulous when it came to Gemma. “I’m really sorry. You don’t deserve any of this.”

  Gemma sighed. “Did they threaten Jamie, then?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Fuckers.”

  “Yeah.” Evelyn bumped shoulders playfully with her.

  “I always thought I’d marry Ben, you know? We talked about it all the time. We even talked about making our first time special.” Gemma began to cry again. She sounded exhausted. “I feel like I’m cheating on him.”

  “You’re not. He’d understand. You’ve got no choice.”

  “I don’t even know what to expect. Will it…hurt?”

  Evelyn shook her head. “With the amount of tablets you’ll have in your system, I hope not. I can’t even tell you what it will be like because I’ve never been with a guy either.” Her cheeks flushed with heat at the admission.

  Gemma looked suitably shocked. “You’re a virgin?”

  “God, no,” Evelyn said with a nervous laugh. “I’m gay. I’ve only ever been with women.”

  Gemma looked shocked. “Seriously?”

  “Yes. I’ve never done anything remotely intimate with a guy, except one horrendous sloppy teenage kiss.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  They sat for a few minutes in silence. Evelyn felt the tablets kicking in. Her head felt a little fuzzy and her reactions were slower.

  “Wow. These tablets are amazing,” Gemma said, her tone noticeably slurry.

  A knock sounded on the door. They both flinched and turned in unison.

  The door opened and Scott popped his head around. He was smiling and seemed in good spirits. “You both look beautiful,” he said. A flush coloured his cheeks. “It’s nearly time. I’ve got to escort you both.”

  They stood up and started toward the door. Gemma was a little unstable on her feet but seemed notably calmer. At least she wasn’t crying anymore.

  As they reached the door Gemma turned and hugged Evelyn tightly. In her ear she whispered, “Thank you.”

  Evelyn tried to speak but felt her stomach lurch instead. She pulled away from Gemma and said to Scott, “I’ve got to use the bathroom.”

  Scott smiled. “Probably just nerv—”

  Ignoring him, she rushed into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. She dropped to her knees and managed to grip the toilet bowl in time. She was sick. The acrid taste of partly dissolved tablets filled her mouth and induced another wave of vomiting. Neither the sink or toilet had water, so she ended up washing the vomit down the drain with water from her bottle.

  A gentle knock sounded on the door. “Evelyn? We’ve really got to go,” Scott said. The worry raised a few octaves in his tone.

  She wiped her mouth and stood. Her legs felt weak and her stomach churned molten acid. She rinsed her mouth with some water and reached for her toothbrush. She thought better of it and left the toothbrush where it was.

  Let’s see how romantic Elijah finds sick breath.

  “Evelyn, please?” Scott said.

  She didn’t bother to check her reflection. She opened the door and silently followed Gemma and Scott out of her room. The next time she entered this room, her marriage to Elijah would be consummated.

  She clenched her jaws and fought against a fresh wave of nausea.

  Chapter Ten

  Alex groggily opened her eyes and saw the ceiling of her tent. Her head was thick and fuzzy. She tried to swallow but winced in discomfort. Her lips were cracked. The inside of her mouth and throat felt parched. She tried to swallow again but ended up coughing with a painfully dry rasp. She lifted herself into a sitting position but it was a slow process; her body was stiff. She glanced around her makeshift bed and the rest of the compartment. What the hell? Everything was neat and tidy.

  Although she’d never been particularly messy, she’d let her standards slip with being ill. Adding to her confusion, the pile of dirty clothes was no longer discarded to the far side of the compartment. The garments were mixed within the neatly folded and well-ordered piles of clothes in front of her. As far as she could tell, all of her clothes looked clean.

  With a gasp, she lifted her injured hand. “Shit,” she whispered. The bandage was clean and tight. There was no way she could’ve dressed her hand this well.

  Panicked, she kicked at her sleeping bag with weak legs. As she looked down at herself, she struggled not to be sick. She was dressed in a huge black T-shirt and a pair of blue sweatpants that had their bottoms neatly rolled up. She’d never worn either item of clothing before. She grasped the neckline of the top and peered down at her chest. The material she’d used to bind her breasts remained. It looked disgustingly dirty. She checked her bottom half and was still wearing her boxer shorts. The relief made her head swim.

  Although she still felt vulnerable, as far as she could tell—and, more importantly, feel, she hadn’t been assaulted in any way. Her relief was short-lived, though. She was defenceless. Her guns and knife were missing. She had no way to protect herself. What is going on? She tried to remember the last thing that had happened, but nothing came to mind. Her excruciating thirst dominated everything and stopped her thinking clearly.

  She needed a drink. Crawling away from her makeshift bed, she heard the sound of the outer zip being undone. She spun around, searching for something to use as a weapon. The only option was one of her walking boots. She held it high above her head, ready to attack whoever came through the opening. With bated breath, she watched as a large shadow fell
across the material leading into her compartment. The zip slowly pulled upward. Alex saw the black head of hair bending to enter her compartment, and without hesitating, she brought the boot down as hard as she could.

  “Ow!” Her captor let out a loud cry of pain and fell backward.

  Alex retreated a little way back, gripping the boot tightly. If the owner of the black hair tried to come inside again, she’d no problem inflicting more pain. In fact, she was looking forward to it. She smiled savagely as the man cradled his head.

  He looked up and glared. “Shit, that hurts. Are you crazy?” He started toward the doorway again.

  Alex raised the boot and the man not only stopped, but also flinched.

  He gave an exasperated sigh and sat down outside the compartment door. “So, you’re awake. I suppose whacking me over the head with a boot is your way of saying thank you?” He gave the top of his head another tentative rub.

  Alex winced as she tried to swallow again.

  He reached down beside him and lifted a bottle of water. “Thirsty?”

  She couldn’t take her gaze off the water. She absentmindedly tried to wet her bottom lip with her tongue, but her mouth was too dry and her tongue felt flaky. She wanted that bottle of water more than anything else in her entire life.

  “If you want it, there’s something I want you to do for me first,” the guy said, watching her carefully.

  She ground her teeth together. Great. Another sexually depraved pervert. What exactly had he been doing to her while she’d been unconscious? She shuddered. Well, being abused while unconscious was one thing, but if he thought she was going to be his willing sex slave for a measly bottle of water, he was wrong. Dead wrong.

  “I want you to agree not to hit me with that boot again. Okay?” He untwisted the cap off the bottle. “And if possible, don’t cause me any more physical pain. I’m only trying to help you.” He held the bottle of water out to her.