Scars Of Defiance (26 page)

The man at the door issued the two-word command the three
men were waiting for.

“Do it.” He said with little more than a rasp as he turned
away and closed the door.

Pain beyond measure ripped through her small body. She would
have screamed if the first kick to her ribs hadn’t taken her wind away. Never
before had she been beaten like this, and she had had her share of beatings. Her
mind settled on the all too familiar place of tranquility, the place she took
her mind when her surroundings were too much to handle —a beautiful beach with
crystal blue water and cloudless skies, perhaps it was somewhere in the
Caribbean— She fell over sideways and curled up in the fetal position in an
effort to protect her body as much as possible. Darkness overtook her as she
lost consciousness.

Eliwese awoke on a small cot in the same dark room with
every inch of her body in pain. She lay perfectly still taking mental inventory
of her injuries when she became aware of a presence in the room. A man sat on a
wooden chair, leaning back on two legs against the wall.

Everything she’d been told about the underground led her to
believe she would be safe here. No one had warned her of a possible attack or
beating. She would have prepared by bracing her mind to think of it as a small
price to pay for the end results, or rationalized the abuse as a means to an
end, but this had caught her off guard. This place proved to be no different
than any other place she’d gone.

She tried to focus on the man’s face but she couldn’t make
her eyes cooperate, and she realized one eye had swollen completely shut. She
couldn’t take deep breaths because of the excruciating pain in her ribs. Her
left leg between the knee and ankle had sharp pains and was most likely broken.
She tried to wiggle her left hand and fingers but it was no good, too much
pain. As she finished up her evaluation of her physical condition, a wave of
relief flooded over her body; she had not been raped.

She let out a small sigh which caught the attention of the
man against the wall. He leaned forward, bringing the two front legs of his
chair down to the floor with a thud. Eliwese jumped with a start, which in
turn, sent pain coursing throughout her body.

The man stood up and walked over to her side.

“Eliwese, Eliwese…. what am I going to do with you?”

His all too recognizable voice resonated through her small
body. Why was
he
here at the secret underground compound? This place was
where people fled to in order to hide from him. Somebody must have ratted her
out, and now her plan had failed before it had even begun.

“I warned you, I threatened you, but you wouldn’t listen to
me. Somewhere deep inside is a constant churning of senselessness and you
should be smarter than this, Eliwese.” His breath reeked of tobacco and whiskey
and sickened her as each burst of air hit her cheek. She had never been able to
tolerate his smell. The memories associated with his aroma nauseated her and
bile began to climb up her throat.

She tried to talk but only a gurgle would come out. Her
tongue seemed to fill her entire mouth and she tasted blood. Fear overtook her,
body and mind. She thought about how this man had been such a significant part
of her life up to this point, the one man she was truly running from, and now
he knew of her plans. She wondered if he would return her home, or simply kill
her.

His size out-measured hers, along with his age, by a long
shot. He bent low over her cot and placed his hand on the side of her face,
caressing her gently as a lover would. She cringed at his attempt of tenderness
and was disgusted at the thought of what would come next.

“You think by cutting your hair and changing its color, you
can hide from me?” He ran his fingers through her short black hair. Her scalp
hurt in places that, no doubt, were bruised and swollen from the attack. She
flinched away from his contact and squeezed her one good eye shut in an effort
to get him to stop. He leaned even closer and whispered in her ear, “You’ll
never be rid of me, little one. I know where you’re going, hell,
I
arranged everything.” He laughed sadistically.

“You?” Her throat wouldn’t let her say anything else, she
didn’t need to.

“Does this shock you, Eliwese?”

She closed her eyes in resignation.

“I will keep my eye on you and I will always know what you
are doing. I will always know who you are with and if you think for a second
you can escape my grasp, I’ll kill your mother and sister.” He straightened
himself upright towering over her.

“Father?” She attempted to ask if her father knew about the underground.

“Oh, Victor will get what’s coming to him. I’ll handle him
when it will best suit my endeavors. You see, once my place is secured in the
palace, he will no longer be needed.”

His comment both answered her prior question and gave her an
all new one. Clearly, her father didn’t realize what his closest confidant was
up to.

“So, go take your little vacation, Eliwese, but never forget
I
will
,” he said emphatically as he unfastened his belt, “father the
next ruler of Rendier.”

*****

Sean Cutler sat on the bench at Bill’s Pharmacy waiting for
his order to be filled. He ran his fingers through his dark brown hair,
realizing he needed a haircut soon. He preferred his hair to be short, trim and
clean cut.

He watched the other customers with amusement as he waited.
A young mother wrestled with her son who couldn’t have been more than four
years old. He wanted candy but his mother refused. By the way the little boy
carried on, Sean figured the candy would win out in the end. It did.

An elderly man stood in line with the aid of his walker,
smiling at the young female cashier. The girl chomped on her bubblegum and threw
flirtatious glances to a handsome young man who happened to be standing behind
the elderly man. Poor old guy, Sean thought, he thinks she’s flirting with him.

Sean glanced over to the newspaper magazine rack and read
some of the headlines: ‘Record Trout caught on Slater Lake weighing nineteen
pounds.’ Another title read: ‘Northtown gears up for visit from Rendierian
leader, Victor Rawlings.’

Great,
Sean thought to himself sarcastically,
Rawlings
in our back yard, that’s just what we need.
He wondered what would bring
the dictator to their country.

Another headline read: ‘Jaime Knutson’s exclusive interview
with Victor Rawlings and the state of his country.’ The smaller print read: ‘Pres.
Rawlings gives an inside look into his country’s largest diamond mine, deep in
the Trejo Mountain Range.’

Sean walked over to the magazine and thumbed through to find
the article. He skimmed through the story touching on the absurd claims that the
nation was in the best financial situation in one hundred years. The individual
comments of praise and admiration for Victor Rawlings made Sean think that
perhaps behind the camera stood a soldier toting an M60 for gentle persuasion.
Right,
like Rendierians need persuasion to say kind things about their leader; if they
said anything negative today, they’d be missing tomorrow.
Still, most
people around the world believed this insane propaganda.

Even in Slaterville, the closest town to the border of
Rendier, most residents weren’t aware of the dangers lurking nearby. Sean
understood all too well because of his upbringing. His own mother Sara Cutler escaped
from Rendier when she was eighteen.

He put the magazine back and his eye caught a men’s magazine
featuring a well known shirtless movie star on the front. Sean compared his own
body with the picture. The only thing the movie star had over Sean was about
fifty million dollars.

At twenty-four years of age, Sean’s features were chiseled
and well defined. His physique was anything but wimpy and he didn’t have an
ounce of fat on him. Unfortunately, a hunky body wasn’t always enough. In fact,
the cute young cashier probably drooled over the pictured movie star, but would
she think the same of Sean?

“Cutler,” the pharmacist called out and Sean walked over to
pay for the prescriptions. He caught the attention of the cashier and smiled at
her. She didn’t give him the time of day. Yep, nailed that one on the head,
Sean
mused to himself.

Sean exited the building into the cool fall air. The late
afternoon sun shone brightly, illuminating all of the changing colors filling
the valley where he lived. Many trees were still green but they wouldn’t stay
that way for long. He took a deep lung full of the crisp, clean autumn air and
walked to his truck. He climbed in and emptied the bag of medications on the
seat. He scanned the contents to make sure the entire order was filled
correctly. Everything checked out and he crammed the bottles back inside the
bag. He put it with the other supplies he’d collected on his errand run for his
mother.

Today’s errand running had also involved driving a man to
the Northtown Airport. ‘James’ escaped from Rendier a little over a month ago
and had been ‘in hiding’ at Sean’s home. Today, ‘James’ began his new life as a
Baylend resident under a new assumed name and identity.

Sean’s family including his mother and father, younger
brother and older sister, all worked together in the dangerous and illegal
business of housing border crossers. For four generations the Cutler family has
continued to help crossers, and if Sean’s parents had their way, they’d
continue until death.

He started his truck and began to drive back home. Sean
loved the small town he lived in with the impressive mountain ranges framing
the valley. The northern Seojo mountains were spectacular and beautiful, and
the southern Trejo range were rugged and ominous; Rendier lay beyond the thirty
mile vastness of that range along with Victor Rawlings, his dormant military
and all of his submissive countrymen.

Sean looked to the Seojo Mountains and imagined the wind in
his face as he raced down one of the many ski slopes. Winter would arrive soon
and he hoped he would be able to hit the slopes at least once. Maybe his
fiancée, Chandra, would try to learn this winter.

Sean signaled to turn into the parking lot of The
DoubleScoop ice cream parlor. Chandra worked today and Sean had a hankering for
some Double Chocolate Fudge. After parking, he entered the busy shop and got in
line. He saw his fiancée serving customers and she caught his eye. He winked
and she smiled. From a reasonable distance, she was every man’s dream.

“How may I help you, sir?” she spoke in her super sweet
voice as Sean stepped up to place his order.

“The usual, ma’am,” he announced formally.

“You always eat the same thing. Why don’t you try something
else like this Pistachio Dream?” She tried to tantalize his senses with the
wave of her hand.

“Nope, I stick with what I know, and I know Double Chocolate
Fudge is good.”

She scooped up his serving. “So, what are you doing here?”

“What time do you get off tonight?”

“Really? Are you finally free?” Her eyes lit up with
excitement.

“Yes. I took him to the airport this morning.” He smiled
even though she’d just jabbed his chosen form of employment. The all too
familiar nagging voice in the back of his mind told him once again, like it had
so many other times,
run, stupid, run.

“Well, it’s about time. Six o’clock.” She handed him the ice
cream and he gave her money.

“Do you want me to pick you up?” He asked.

“No, I’ll come to your house.”

“Alright, see you then.” Sean left the store with his
dessert and sat in his truck to eat it. His mind wandered to Chandra and their
relationship. He met Chandra Stevens at The DoubleScoop earlier that spring
when he stopped in for his favorite double chocolate fudge. Her beauty and
smoking hot body sucked him right in. She was new to the area with plans to
attend the community college in the fall. Their dating relationship accelerated
and before Sean knew it, he was engaged. He technically didn’t even propose to
her. She simply convinced him it would be wonderful to be married to him and
persuaded him to purchase a pricey diamond ring for her.

Whenever Sean thought about Chandra, his thoughts would get
muddled. He couldn’t sort out exactly what he felt for her, and it was too
exhausting to try to talk to her about it. She had a way about her that seemed
to smooth out all the rough edges, yet expose all new ones. Sean attributed
most of her behavior to the fact they didn’t get much time together. Housing border
crossers didn’t allow for much quality time.

Her ambitions of going to college never materialized.
Whenever Sean brought up the topic, she’d say, “I think the woman’s place is in
the home with the children, like your mother. You’re the man; you should
provide me a home to raise our children.” Nothing made Sean squirm more than
the thought of little ‘Chandras’ running around. Yet, she was beautiful, so
Sean should just be happy she wanted him, or at least that’s what she said.

Sean turned out on the road leading him home. He passed
small businesses and shops on his way and a couple of bed and breakfast
establishments. It was interesting how this small group of businesses had
successfully kept the larger hotel chains out of Slaterville. However, what amazed
him further was how these bed and breakfasts’ helped disguise Sean’s family
business. Anyone watching closely would assume the Cutler’s operated a bed and breakfast
also.

Sean drove his truck down the road toward his home. He gazed
out to the right, at the crisp, blue water of Slater Lake. Its surface was
perfectly calm, like glass, with one lonely fishing boat situated in the
middle. Sean looked out his left window at the many houses facing the beautiful
view. He slowed his truck down and turned left, into the driveway of his
parent’s home.