The Wounded (The Woodlands Series) (33 page)

I found myself squirming and twisting my wrists at his words. “Did you hear that?” I threw behind me.

“I did,” Joseph answered tersely.

These people answered to the Superiors.

*****

Mid-morning
I was released to go to the toilet under the supervision of the young man with whom I’d had my enlightening conversation. I snapped my shoulders when he touched them, recoiled when he smoothed my hair, but he just shrugged and smiled at me with tarry gums.

When
I returned, I was tied up but, this time, we all faced inwards toward the center of the camp. My unwelcome friend grazed my cheek with the back of his sandpapery hand and left.

The fires reach
ed into the sky. The women swept the dirt that was threatening to become mud out to the edge of the camp with grass brooms, while a man placed rocks in a tight circle. I turned to Rash who, for once, had a serious expression on his face. Everyone’s gaze was turned towards the circle, all hoping we weren’t going to end up like Ansel.

As I watched puffs of dust pluming and spraying against the trees in a red spritz,
I began to understand more about what this culture was based on. Violence.

Two men stood at the edge of the rock circle
on their toes, like it was an abyss that would swallow them. Two women took their shirts and placed their palms to the men’s chests, leaving two chalky white imprints like the claw marks of a giant cat. It was primal and savage, until she reached up on her tiptoes and gave him a peck on the nose. I raised my eyebrow and turned to Joseph. He was deep in thought, turning something over in his head as he stared past the circle and into the thickly wooded trees beyond the camp. The men placed two items at the edge—a worn, leather jacket and a heavy iron pot. I stifled the need to shout at them ‘What the hell is going on here?’

Then they stepped into the circle and I was lost to the performance, the
viciousness, the aggression of two men clawing and scratching at each other. But lightly. The balls of their feet pushed up and danced in the dirt, yet barely touched it. The movements were swift, the kicks gliding through the air in sweeping arcs.

T
he Survivors eyes watched in equal parts horror and fascination. Except Olga, whose usually wobbly face was serene and expressionless like she’d shut down and was playing an alternate event in her mind.

You found yourself rooting for one or the other. I liked the look of the smaller
man; he had sharp teeth, two that looked almost like fangs, and this wild, exuberant expression on his face like he savored the harm he was receiving. The bigger guy was slower but stronger, continually lashing out and having his swings ducked.

The small one flashed a pointy grin and ducked under a powerful punch
, which threw the big guy off his balance. Reaching in, he slammed the big one in the side in several sharp, almost elastic punches. I gasped like I felt it, the wind knocking from my ribs. The big one gasped for air and doubled over, coughing blood. The small one took the advantage and brought his knee into the big one’s face with a sickening crunch. I cringed at the sound, like biting down on a shard of rock in your lettuce.

It looked like it was over but the big one put up one last move, stumbling forward and trying to grab the little one in a bear hug. His arms open
ed wide, but his opponent sidestepped him and brought down his arm across the back of the big one’s neck.

The big one
dropped on his face like a felled tree.

The smaller
, younger man poked the tree with the tip of his foot and when he didn’t move, he turned away, shoved the leather jacket in the pot and carried it to one of the tents. Someone rolled the big guy over, his face a bulging pulp of mashed-up skin. He groaned, and they dragged him to another tent.

We watched two more fights like
this, and it became obvious this was how they settled debts and disputes.

*****

Another night passed uncomfortably. I was tied next to Joseph now, so at least I could lean on his shoulder, feel him close in some small way. The man who’d touched me before came to wish me goodnight but, with Joseph staring him down, it was blessedly brief.

T
he camp folded up and turned in for the night, the light smokey and cool. Joseph nudged me. “I know what to do,” he whispered.

The other heads turned towards us. “I’m glad someone’s thinking of a plan,” Rash whispered, too loudly.

I was instantly suspicious of what he might say; I stressed my hands in their bindings, which were fast turning blue from the cold and the tightness of the ropes.

He began,
“Well, you’ve seen how they settle things…”

“Joseph, no!” I said sharply
, banging into him with my angular shoulder.

“I can win
. I’m so much bigger than they are,” he said, so sure of himself.

Gus cleared his throat gently and said, “It’s not just about size, young man. Can you fight?”

Joseph nodded, and I shook my head at the same time. I’d never seen him fight anyone.

“Tomorrow
morning, I’ll speak with their leader,” Joseph said quietly, but determinedly. The others agreed.

I strained to face
him, but the best I could do was angle one of my eyes in his direction. Joseph blinked like he didn’t want to look at them. “Don’t do this,” I pleaded.

“Can you see any other option, Rosa?”
he asked, working his jaw and staring past the fires.

I closed my mouth. I couldn’t.

*****

Dawn hit like a slap in the face. Th
e women were cleaning fervently. The men saddled horses. They were preparing for something.

I caught the attention of my admirer and asked, “What’s happening?” His eyebrow quirked like he didn’t understand me. “I mean, where are you going?”

Recognition sparked, and he smiled. “We guard road. Catch people. Give to All Kind. Get food.”

My stomach rolled.
Damn it.

Joseph coughed
. “I want to fight for our release,” he said formally.

The m
an laughed. “What you have I want?” He sneered.

Joseph was lost
. We had no possessions of value to them; everything was back at the house we were abducted from. Besides, what would they want with handhelds and jerky? If we told them where the cars were, the mission would end here. My mind unraveled and wound back together, understanding the only option was the worst one. Joseph was going to kill me.

“Me
,” I said loudly. “You want me.”

That stopped him from walking away.
He crouched down and stared into my eyes intensely, as he closed his hands around my arms and squeezed tightly. “You belong to him?” He shook me slightly.

I winced as I nodded. I didn’t like saying anyone owned me
but, in this case, it had to be done.

His spry body sprung up in glee. He walked towards the largest tent without looking back.

“Why would you say that?” Joseph said softly
, but with so much frustration and exasperation in his voice he may as well have been yelling.

I stared into the
center of the camp, my thoughts tipped to wondering what it would be like to live this way. Cooking and cleaning for a husband who fought brutally for everything he wanted. Little bumps rose on my skin as I shivered in fear.
What had I done?

“Rosa, answer me
.” He elbowed me sharply.

“I could see
he wasn’t going to take the bait. I had to offer him something he might want. You’ve seen how he acts around me. It was worth a try.”

Joseph’s arms
tightened, and he physically cringed. “What if I lose?”

I strained my hands to the
side closest to Joseph, searching for his hand, and managed to hook my finger around his pinky. Sharp zaps of golden electricity traveled up my arm. I looked to Joseph and his faced relaxed a little, the rest of him still wound up tight.

“Just don’t lose,” I whispered.

“You know even if I do, I won’t let them take you.” His words sparked in my heart, but he was wrong. He wouldn’t have a choice.

“You won’t lose
,” I answered, even though I wasn’t sure. I was sure, though, that if he lost, I would go. I wouldn’t let them sacrifice their lives for me. There was always more than two answers to a problem. There wouldn’t always be someone to rescue you. I would go, but I wouldn’t stay. I’d find a way out.

Joseph dipped his head, his curls falling over his
face, hiding his expression, but I could easily imagine it. His eyes focused, and his thoughts on the task ahead. His annoyance at me burned a fire in the background and pushed him forward. The sun bounced off his golden head and warmed the earth around us. Our caretaker came to give us water as we all started to sweat under the glare. The smell of seventeen unwashed Survivors caused her to pinch her nose, as she lifted spoonfuls of water into our waiting mouths. When she got to me, she shook her head, running her finger along my dirty cheek and rubbing the dirt between her fingertips. She reached behind me and untied my aching wrists. I looked at her, confused.

“Come. Wash. Fight soon. No good to be dirty prize
,” she said hurriedly, pulling me by the arm. I gulped. Turning back to look at Joseph, my father, and Rash, all of whose eyes were reaching out to me in worry.

“Ok
,” I said to the woman, letting her drag me away from the camp and into the wooded area surrounding it like a cage.

*****

It was just the two of us. She clamped my wrist with an iron grip as she dragged me through the mossy, green undergrowth with one sinewy arm; the other had several layers of clean clothing hanging from it, which I eyed with trepidation. The thick trees reached so high that the sun scattered only small spots of light over the damp ground. The tips of every plant were dipped in ice, like powdered sugar. My eyes glanced over rocks and tree branches that could be used as potential weapons, but something stopped me from grabbing them. She seemed kind compared to the others, and there was no one to go to for help. The Survivors were all spread out across the mountains and plains by now.

We stepped over a disintegrating log and walked down a steep incline to a rock pool with green ferns dribbling over its edges
, ice extending each frond. Trickling water hit like crystal over the rocks.

She sat on a
smooth, black rock and started removing her shoes.

“Here?” I asked.

She grunted in response, sort of like she was saying, “Duh.”

There was no shyness as she quickly stripped her clothes off and shrank into the water
. Her dark, careworn skin looked like it needed the moisture. But she was strong, every old muscle defined and wiry. She dropped below the surface of the water and my thoughts turned to run… run.

I stood to leave, my feet just scraping the edge of the gently lapping pool.
Turning, I started to creep.

A hand snapped out of the water and grabbed my ankle, jerking me backwards and pulling my balance away
before I could catch it. My arms flailed out in front of me, and my chin knocked on the boulder I’d been sitting on.

I slid down and into the water fully clothed. A hand on my head held me down for longer than I had breath. I fought and scratched until it released me. The woman’s eyes were fierce as they glared
, dark and penetrating like light glancing off a shiny, black rock.

“Wash
,” she said cuttingly, her thin, dark lips pulled back into a growl. Her grainy teeth sharpened in the corners into fangs.

I gasped,
coughing, as she pulled my clothes from me like she was stripping the fur from an animal until I was naked and exposed in front of her. She eyed me critically and clicked her tongue in what looked like disappointment. I brought my arms up to cover my bare chest as she turned and left the pool. She threw a cloth at me and began to dress.