by E A Lake
It will be dangerous, but if you’re careful, you can come and get us after sundown. We are in the middle cabin.
Please come soon; I’m afraid for all of our safety.
I glanced up at Morgan. She stared back at me. “I’ve pretty much figured all of this out already,” I said. “Kind of hard to miss with the daily ass kickings going on around here.”
Morgan grinned slightly. “I don’t think you’ve finished that all the way to the end yet.”
I peeked down at the page. The blood made the last lines almost illegible. I saw Morgan extend her hand to me.
“Let me read it for you,” she said. “I did write it since Sara had a sprained finger at the time. One that Three tried to break off her hand a few months back.”
I handed the note to her.
“I need you to know something, Quinn,” Morgan recited, sliding her finger through the blood stain. “I still love you, no matter what. I always have and I always will…Yours forever, Sara.”
To say I was shocked would’ve been an under-statement. I should’ve seen it coming, but I hadn’t. Perhaps it was my lost memories; maybe I was as big of an idiot as Morgan had been saying.
“Was Sara my wife?” I asked quietly.
Morgan handed me the paper and squeezed my hand when I took it from her. “No, Quinn. You’re almost 15 years older than her. That wouldn’t make any sense. Try a little harder.”
“She was my mistress?” The amused look on Morgan’s face told me I wasn’t close yet.
“I was your fling,” Sara said, inching out of her bedroom. “One time, that’s all. But yes, you cheated on your wife with me. It was before I was married; a couple years before that.”
And here I thought I’d been confused up to that point. Ha!
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
“I was married, but you weren’t,” I said, chiding myself. “What a schmuck I am.”
“You were miserable,” Sara replied, coming closer. “But you said it was a mistake a few days afterwards and told me it could never be repeated.”
“And so starts the tale of the scorned lover,” Morgan added from the couch.
I saw Sara’s face tense. “It wasn’t like that, Morgan. And you know it.”
“Why wasn’t it like that, Sara?” I asked. Sara blushed.
“I’ve been in love with you since I was 17; maybe even a little before that.”
“I’ll admit,” Morgan replied. “You weren’t happy, Quinn. Your wife was a real piece of evil queen work. I’m surprised you didn’t bang Sara weekly once you had her.”
“But you’re so much younger,” I said, facing Sara directly.
“The heart wants what the heart wants,” Sasha added. “That’s what our grandma always said. Mom told her she was foolish and she’d better quit making eyes at an older, married man. But not Sara. Nope. She just couldn’t give up on that thought.”
“But you married another man,” I replied, trying to make sense of it all.
“I more or less had to,” Sara admitted. “Mom and Dad said people might begin to notice things. People might start talking about me – us – spreading rumors and all. They said if your wife ever found out, she’d kill both of us. I think they meant it, too.”
“Where’s your husband now…William?” I asked.
“According to Three, he’s dead. She comes from up by Terre Haute as well,” Sara answered sadly. “She gave me some details shortly after she arrived.”
“And she laughed the whole damn time,” Morgan claimed.
I took Sara’s hands and met her gaze. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all of this.” But I wondered how she’d found me. “How’d you reach me? I can’t imagine there’s mail delivery anymore.”
“We gave the note to Belinda,” Liv said. She was by the sink as usual, doing dishes. “She gave it to a man Shaklin trades with who goes through Pimento all the time. I guess he’d heard of you and was happy to help Belinda out.”
Bits and pieces were laid before me and still they didn’t make much sense. I was married, but not happy. I had an affair with a beautiful young woman, but still wasn’t happy. Shaklin had screwed me out of money, but I didn’t seem to care. If my life was a jigsaw puzzle, then all of the pieces had perfectly round corners.
“I don’t remember any of it,” I admitted. “I mean, I’m not doubting anything you’ve said…” I glanced around the room so they knew I was speaking to all of them. “Though I am a little confused as to why a beautiful young lady would be in love with some old married fart.”
“The heart wants—” Sasha said until I raised a hand to cut her off.
“But where do I fit into any sort of rescue?” I asked the group. “As far as you’ve told me, I was just a regular old businessman. And from the sounds of it, I wasn’t any better at that than I was being married.”
Morgan rose from the couch and approached me. “You were a businessman. Not after the old world ended and your wife left you. That’s when you moved to Pimento and found new work. Something completely different than you’d ever done before. Something so out of character that none of us hardly believed it at first. But over the years, we’ve heard plenty of stories about you in your new place. That’s when we knew you were the one.”
“To come here and help you all make your escape?” I asked, thinking I’d almost figured the puzzle out.
Morgan nodded.
“And you all have a plan for this escape, right?” It was the next logical question after all.
I thought she might strike me again, given the disappointment I saw on her face. But instead, she shocked me completely. The thin, pretty woman hugged me.
“Not really,” she whispered. “We were kind of hoping you’d have one when you got here.”
We were screwed, big time.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
We, as a group, tossed around ideas most of the night. None were very good. But then again, I still didn’t have all of my brain working yet. We gave up when we couldn’t keep our eyes open any longer and promised to attack the problem the following day.
When I awoke on the couch, I found a strange sound greeting me. Someone was singing behind me in the kitchen. I thought it was odd; I’d never heard Liv so much as hum, much less sing. Sitting up, I discovered my hostess for the day wasn’t Liv. It was Morgan.
“No butter,” she said, seeing me sit up on the couch. “We’re also out of tea. So, I’m afraid it’s water and biscuits this morning. At least we still have some jam for the biscuits.”
As we ate together, I tried not to stare at Morgan’s facial wounds, but it was hard. She wasn’t bleeding anymore; however, the swelling had overtaken a good part of her face. I felt both sad and angry about the situation.
I was going to be their savior of some sort. Arriving from my new home, I would help them escape their bonds of servitude and all start new lives. That seemed simple enough…if we had a plan.
That was where things got dicey. A good plan was something they had expected me to bring to the mix. Instead, they found themselves with a man so lost that he didn’t even recognize his own name or remember anything about his past.
The door opened and I turned to see Belinda entering the home with a basket of supplies in hand. Good, we finally had butter again.
She swept past me and knelt beside Morgan, clutching at her hands.
“I am so sorry this happened, Morgan,” Belinda cried. “I knew something was up because I saw Three and Tony whispering to one another in a corner during lunch. I think one of the children might have overheard something. It’s just terrible, just awful.”
“Did you check on Charolette?” Morgan asked, more concerned for her younger friend than herself. “I don’t think her foot is going to heal probably if it doesn’t get attention. I should go over there in a little bit and take a look at it.”
Belinda stood and hugged the still seated woman. “I checked on her already. The gals did everything they could to make her comfortable. Tony has
even sent someone to town to look for some kind of boot she can wear.”
I rolled my eyes and laughed. “How sympathetic of him. He’s quite the caring fellow.”
Belinda looked at me and came closer. “Good morning, big brother,” she said, leaning over to give me a kiss on the cheek. “I see your head is looking better. How are your other wounds healing?”
I shrugged away her concern.
“I checked on them last night after he fell asleep,” Morgan replied. “They look okay. I put some salve on them.”
Huh, that was odd. I would have thought I would have woken up if she’d done that. Checking my side, I noticed a somewhat clean and fresh piece of white gauze in place of what had been somewhat bloody one the evening before.
“Do you know who kicked you?” Belinda asked Morgan.
She nodded and sighed. “Jimmy Yelk, that shit. I think he likes hurting women.”
I had a name for the person at the top of my shit list finally. If I ever figured out how to get even with Shaklin and his crew, Jimmy Yelk was going to get a special dose of something from me.
“How often does something like this happen?” I asked both women. “I mean, people must try to escape all the time, right?”
Belinda took a chair between Morgan and me and loosened the top button on her dress that pressed against her thin neck. I could tell by her tight lips I wasn’t going to like the answer.
“Three girls have died trying to get away,” she answered. Morgan held up four fingers; Belinda nodded. “Four actually.”
“The first was Susie,” Morgan replied. “She was never right in the head. It was year three, still winter — maybe February. She wandered off in the cold and Shaklin’s men found her a couple miles away. They brought her back and we were all punished. Susie got a broken hand out of the deal. A couple weeks later, she ran off again, and they found her again. When they brought her back that time, Shaklin had her hung in the trees out front. He left her hanging there for weeks. Even though she was dead, it was an awful thing to look at day after day.”
“He was sending a message,” I murmured.
“Constant reminder of what happens to those who try to leave,” Morgan added somberly.
“Then there was Beth,” Belinda continued sadly. “The summer of year three. She was pretty and small, probably about my age. Her man came and found her and tried to sneak her off. Of course, they caught them. Beth and her husband were on foot; Tony’s men were on horseback. Not that many places to hide out there.”
“They shot the husband and left him dead where they found him,” Morgan continued. “They brought Beth back here and stripped her and tied her to a tree while three men whipped her. When she quit screaming, they waited for her to come to again. And then they whipped her again. That time when she quit screaming she hadn’t passed out. She was dead. Probably died from a heart attack or something like that.”
My God, the place was far worse than I ever could have imagined. I understood better why the four of them sent for me, though I was still unclear as to how to help.
“Then there was Mavis,” Morgan said, dropping her gaze to her hands in her lap and squeezing her eyes tightly shut. “That was the worst.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Mavis, I was told, was a 32-year-old mother of three who sold herself to Shaklin in exchange for feeding her children and aged mother. Though her contract had only called for one year of service to the man, she discovered the cold truth after that time expired.
“Tony told her she couldn’t leave,” Belinda said sadly. “He didn’t give her a reason; just told her she couldn’t go. Ever.”
“She was losing her mind within a month,” Morgan added. “She wanted to get back to her children so badly. She had no idea what had happened to her husband; he’d been missing since the zero hour — when everything ended — and she knew her children needed her. But she also knew she couldn’t go home to them; she had to find a different spot to hide and then send for them.”
Sounded like a smart lady to me. Their expressions though told me everything hadn’t gone as planned.
“She got away and had been gone for about a week when Shaklin hauled us all out in the yard,” Morgan continued. “He told us he knew someone knew something, so now was the time to speak. That way, he wouldn’t have to punish all of us.”
Morgan became teary and Belinda cupped her hands. I felt my heart sinking further towards my stomach more than ever before.
“He had three men with him,” Morgan said sadly. “No wait; there were four. He started by going to the first person in cabin one and smiling at them, all polite like. He said, ‘Donna, tell me what you know. It’ll make everything better.’ She said she didn’t know anything and started crying and begging. So, one of the men goes and grabs her by the shoulders while another one comes in front of her. The guy in front delivers a hard blow to her left breast and Donna screams like nothing I ever heard, except maybe for Charolette the other day.
“Shaklin comes back and says, ‘Donna, don’t make me hurt you. Tell me what you know.” And again, she didn’t say anything. So, she got punched in the right breast.” Morgan paused and took a deep stuttered breath.
“I think he understands, Morgan,” Belinda said nearly in tears. “You don’t need to go on.”
But Morgan sat up and stared me in the face. “I was the first from our house in the line. By then my eyes were as big as saucers. One guy grabs my arms, while another just punches me.” She pointed at her chest. “Women don’t deserve to be punched there. I puked right on the spot, it hurt so bad. The kick in the face didn’t hurt as much as that. Then, Shaklin comes in front of me, grinning and all smart. ‘What’s the matter, Morgan? Nothing to say for the first time ever?’ Then he nodded at that bastard and he hit me twice as hard in the right breast. I was on the ground so fast; I couldn’t stand the pain.”
“I understand,” I replied quietly. “This isn’t a good place for anyone, Morgan.”
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” she said with a little more anger. “But Livy doesn’t have much to show up there. And yet she got punched just as hard as anyone else. And Charolette, there ain’t nothing to her. She’s five feet tall and if she says she weighs eighty pounds, she’s lying to you. They damn near broke her ribs when they hit her. I mean, gals like Sasha and Sara have a little more; it still hurt, but the extra fat absorbed some of the blow. But not for gals like Charolette and Livy. They got it twice as hard.
“Some of the woman here are 60 years old, Quinn. And yet, they got the same treatment. But no one talked; no one said a word, even though we all knew where Mavis had gone to.” Morgan wiped away several tears and glanced at Belinda.
“So, she got away and is safe now?” I asked, hoping for a happy ending for at least one person.
Morgan glared back at me. “They found where she was hiding two weeks later. Shaklin offered a cow as a reward for the return of his property.”
I felt the bile rising in the back of my throat as Morgan wrapped up her story.
“They brought her back with her kids and mother,” Morgan said spitefully. “They lined up her family in front of us and shot her in the head while her children begged for their mom’s life. They made the mother dig a grave and drag the body to it. They made her do everything by herself while the rest of us could only cry and look on. Then he sent that poor family away to starve.”
I hadn’t been brought to this place to save four women. Not after what Morgan had just told me. I was there to end a brutal man’s dynasty. But I still had no idea how to do such a thing.
I glanced at Belinda. “And you’re willing to help?” She nodded without looking at me. “Even if…?”
“Even if it costs me my life,” Belinda answered bravely. “You need to get these four out of here so they can tell their story and you can round up a big enough army to defeat a man like Tony. But be warned, Quinn; Tony has a lot of allies. Fear does that to people. Don’t expect any help from
anyone in this area. Your help will have to come from up by Pimento.”
I nodded and rose to stand by the rear window. I was expected to put together an army of people? They would all be strangers to me, unless I got my memory back. And that didn’t appear to be happening anytime soon.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
I stewed for two days trying to figure out how to help the people in Shaklin’s employ, rather slavery. Everyone tried to help, but every plan seemed to have a glitch. On the evening of the second day, I believed my seventh with the women, I decided to toss some ideas at them.
Running off in the middle of the night was my first thought. Sometime after sundown, we’d make our way stealthily into the corn behind the house and flee to the nearest road. Morgan shot holes in that idea quickly.
“First off, the roads are the places Shaklin’s men have caught most people,” she began, a little too sarcastically for my liking. I felt a slap to the back of my head coming soon. I was glad she was getting over her injuries, but that had brought back her vigor, as the rest liked to call it.
“Second, there’s only nine hours of darkness right now,” she continued, pacing as she spoke. “That’s not enough time for us to make it there in the dark.”
“Where?” I asked.
She spun and glared at me. “Pimento, you idiot.”
I nodded and tried to smile. Of course, Pimento. The place I was allegedly from.
“How far away is Pimento, you suppose?” I needed more information and at the time Morgan was my only source.
For that answer, she glanced at Sasha, a woman who was busy working a hang nail down to the bone. “About 15 miles.”
“How fast can we walk?” I continued. “Two or three miles an hour. That gives us five to seven hours. Sounds doable to me.”
