Blood Red Road (12 page)

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Authors: Moira Young

BOOK: Blood Red Road
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Saba! says Emmi. Call him back!

It’s all right, Em, I says. He’ll be fine.

Suddenly, with her so close fer the first time, I realize how big Miz Pinch is. Over six foot, with broad shoulders, rough man-sized hands an strong lookin arms covered with dark hair.

Grub’s up, she says.

We sit on deck to eat—me on a upturned bucket, Emmi on the floor an the Pinches on rickety wood chairs they pull outta the hut.

Miz Pinch digs into the cookin pot with a long wooden spoon an slops a hearty helpin into a battered tin basin.

Dried boar an sourberry, she says. She holds the basin out to me. That’ll fill yer belly.

Pinch goes to grab it. She hauls off an whacks his hand with the spoon. Whacks him so hard he howls. She glares at him.

That ain’t yers, she says.

An this one’s fer you, girlie. She fills another eatin tin an hands it to Emmi, who digs right in.

My squeezed belly’s so happy to be filled that I scarf down the lot double quick. When I’m finished, Miz Pinch hands me a chunk of flatbread. She gives a bit to Em too.

There you go, she says. Mop them bowls clean. Cain’t go wastin good food. It’s nice to see young ’uns with good appetites, ain’t it, Rooster?

To share our modest portion with fellow travelers on the dusty road of life, he says. It’s just the thing, my dear! That’s what it’s all about!

Git every last drop, she says, that’s the way. All done?

Thanks, I says. I hand our bowls back. I yawn. Emmi rubs her eyes.

You girls feelin sleepy? says Miz Pinch.

My eyelids is feelin so heavy all of a sudden. I yawn agin.

Guess I … ain’t used … to … all this walkin …, I says.

Saba, Emmi yawns. Why do I feel … so … tired …?

She curls up on deck an right away, she’s fast to sleep. Somethin ain’t right here. I git to my feet. I stagger a little.

Whoa … I shake my head, try to wake myself. My head’s so heavy, I cain’t hardly hold it up.

The Pinches is watchin me, a sly look in their eyes.

Then I know. The food …, I says. You put somethin in … the food. I go to slide my bow offa my back but my fingers go all slack. My hand drops down. My knees buckle unner me. I fall to the deck.

Why’d you … do that fer? I says.

My eyelids flutter.

Once.

Twi—

I’m lyin on somethin hard. Wood. My neck’s stiff. My head’s poundin. It hurts somethin fierce. I lick my dry lips. My shoulders ache. An my wrists. I groan.

I lift my head, force open heavy eyes. Rough wooden bunks, cookin pots hangin on the rickety walls. Where … cain’t seem to remember … wait … the landboat … the
Desert Swan … Rooster Pinch … his wife. I must be inside the hut on the Desert Swan.

I go to move my arms but … I cain’t. I give ’em a yank. Metal bites into my wrists.

My heart leaps. Starts to race. I’m wide awake.

I’m lyin on a bunk. I’m chained, wrists an ankles, to metal rings set into a girder. Emmi’s on the next bunk, jest a few paces away. She’s chained up too. This hut ain’t the flimsy thing it looks to be. It’s wood panels attached to a frame made from iron.

We’re prisoners. A red hot wave of fury rushes through me. Fury an fear. Pinch! I roar, pullin at my chains. Pinch! Emmi! I says. Emmi! Wake up!

Slowly she lifts her head, eyes heavy an dull.

Wake up, Emmi! C’mon now! Emmi!

Her eyes widen when she sees me. She looks an sees her own wrists tied, sees her ankles. Her face twists with fear, she starts to breathe fast.

Saba! What’s goin on? What’re they gonna do to us?

Then I notice that the floor’s rumblin. The pots on the wall swing an sway. The Swan’s on the move.

Pinch! I scream. The hut door flies open. Miz Pinch steps inside an closes it behind her.

Well well, she says. Awake at last. Pleasant dreams, I hope.

Let us go! I yell. You got no right to do this!

Right ain’t got nuthin to do with it, she says. In this world,
you gotta take what you want. She shrugs. We want you.

Whaddya mean, you want me?

She lifts the lid on a water bucket an dips a battered tin cup in it. Yer young, she says, an strong. A natural-born fighter from the look of it. I knew it right off. You’ll be perfect.

Perfect fer what? I says.

She straightens up. Look at me with her small dark eyes, cold as stones. Perfect, she says, fer cage fightin.

The little hairs on my arms stand on end. I shiver.

That’s right, girlie, she says. You better be afeared. Cage fightin’s mean. Nasty. An it’s big business in Hopetown. You’ll do well fer us.

I ain’t doin nuthin fer you, I says.

You ain’t gotta choice, she says.

You cain’t make me do nuthin, I says.

Oh you’ll do ezzackly what I tell you, she says.

I’ll see you in hell first, I says. Let us go! Pinch! Help! Pinch!

Save yer breath, she says. He does what I tell him. She walks over with the cup of water. Bends down an holds my head up. Drink it, she says. Cain’t have you goin thirsty. Cage fighters gotta be in prime condition.

I stare at her while I drink. I hold the water in my mouth, then I spit it in her face. She don’t say naught. Jest stares at me a moment, the water runnin down her face.

You shouldn’t of done that, she says.

She goes over to Emmi.

No! I yell. Don’t touch her!

She slaps her across the face. Hard. Emmi cries out. She lifts her head an I see her lip’s bin split open. Blood fills her mouth, trickles down her chin. She starts to cry.

Leave her alone! I yell. She’s a child! She ain’t done nuthin to you!

Miz Pinch comes over an kneels beside my bunk. Puts her face so close to mine that I can see every pock mark on her skin. So close I gag on her foul breath. It smells like meat left out in the sun. She smiles.

Every time you disobey me, she says, every time you try to git away, I’m gonna hit yer little sister. Hit her or … burn her. If I take the notion to, I might even break her arm. But I ain’t gonna hit you. I ain’t ever gonna hit you, my beauty.

She strokes a finger down my cheek. Her filthy nail scrapes aginst my skin.

An you know why? she says. Yer worth too much to me. Yer sister … she ain’t worth nuthin. Not to me anyways. I guess we’re gonna find out how much she’s worth to you.

I feel it when the sails go down. The Swan gits slower an slower an at last it shudders to a halt. There’s a clunk as the
anchor hits the ground. We must be stoppin fer the night.

We bin watchin while Miz Pinch gutted an skinned a rock lizard an set it to stew on a bucket stove inside the hut, all the time hummin to herself. It’s like we ain’t even here.

I ain’t opened my mouth since she said that about hurtin Emmi. I bin tryin to think of a plan. Tryin to think what Lugh would do if he was me. If he was here. An how much I wish it was him an me here together an not me an Em. It wouldn’t be so bad then. I’d feel like maybe we had half a chance.

All right, Emmi? I whisper.

She nods, her eyes big in her thin little face. Her lip’s swolled up where Miz Pinch hit her, the blood dried all dark an crusty. I cain’t stand to think how I hit her too, back at the lake, an me her own flesh. She cried them first few moments after Miz Pinch whacked her, but she ain’t made a peep since.

You was right about ’em, I says. I’m sorry. I should of listened to you.

That’s okay, she says.

It ain’t okay, I says. An it’s my fault she hit you. I shouldn’t of spit at her.

I’m glad you did, Emmi says.

That’s the spirit, I says. I’ll git us outta here, Em. I promise.

Quit yer gabbin! Miz Pinch yells at us. Then she yanks open the door an shrieks, Grub up!

Rooster Pinch slips inside the hut.

You lyin bastard! I says.

He’s all shifty-eyed an hangdog an don’t meet my eyes. Pretends he don’t hear me. Smells capital, my dear! He rubs his hands together, all fake cheery, an sniffs the air. Sheer ambrosia!

Shut up, she says. Siddown.

They shovel it down. When he’s finished, he swipes his finger inside his bowl an licks off the thin gravy. She nods our way.

You better feed ’em, she says.

Me, my dear? Oh! Do you think that’s wise? You’d be much better at—

Her big hand shoots out an she clips him on the ear. He scurries to fetch a couple of tin basins an fills ’em with stew. He goes to Emmi first. He helps her to sit, scoops a spoonful an holds it out to her. She looks at me.

It’s okay, I says. I smile at her an she gives me a little smile back.

She eats eagerly, hungrily, hardly stoppin to chew.

That’s a good girl, says Pinch. That’s the way. He looks over his shoulder. Miz Pinch’s busy clearin up, hummin agin, not payin us no attention. He darts a look at me, whispers to both of us, It’s best if you just do what she says, my dears. If you don’t, believe me, it will go hard for you.

You gotta help us git away, I whisper. Please.

I can’t. I don’t dare. If you try to get away, she’ll kill you. That’s what she did to the last one. She sees everything. She—

Miz Pinch notices what he’s up to. What’s goin on over there? I hope you ain’t talkin to them girls, Rooster.

No! Of course not! Wouldn’t dream of it!

You better not be. An if I find out yer lyin to me, you know what’ll happen, don’t you? I’ll give you the burn. How’d you like that?

I wouldn’t, my treasure, he says.

Then git on with the feedin an be quick about it.

He hurries to finish with Emmi, then moves over to me. Whaddya mean, she killed the last one, I whisper. What last one?

He don’t reply. I try to make him catch my eye, but he won’t, he jest stares down at the bowl. His face is shiny with sweat an the spoon trembles in his hand. Fer the first time, I notice his hands an wrists is covered all over with ugly purple burn scars. Like somebody’s gone at ’em with a hot poker.

So that’s what she means when she says she’ll give him the burn. That’s what she does when he crosses her. He ain’t gonna help us. He’s too terrified.

We’re on our own.

An I feel calm.

It seems crazy, seein how we’re both chained hand an foot an there ain’t a soul to help us, but I’m calm. Because now I see what I gotta do. An what I ain’t gotta do, which is waste time thinkin that anybody’s gonna help us. That somebody’s gonna come along an rescue us. I cain’t count on nobody but me.

So what I gotta do now is watch. An learn. An think. An plan. I’m gonna make sure we stay alive, Emmi an me. I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll do what the hellhag tells me.

But I’ll be watchin an waitin. An when the time comes, when it’s the right moment to make a move, I’ll be ready. I’ll know what to do an I’ll git us outta here.

Then we’ll go find Lugh. I promised him I would. An I ain’t no quitter. No matter what.

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