TRIBES

by Mia Frances

  "Not so uppity anymore are you?" he jeered, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcing her to her feet. "Come on, it's time to pay the piper."

  He roughly shoved her toward the center of the clearing and pushed her down on her back, pinning her beneath him. His hands spread the torn fabric of her shirt and groped her now naked breasts, squeezing the nipples between his fingers. He bent his head and brushing away the blood, pressed his lips to hers; his insistent tongue prying them apart to explore her mouth. Crushed by his weight, she was at his mercy. His body reeked of sweat and smoke, his breath hot against her skin. He moved his hand to her thighs and forced her legs apart, then began to rub the crotch of her jeans. Breathing hard, he undid the button on her pants. Then, while she kicked and screamed in protest, he undid the zipper and yanked them down.

  "Lie still dammit!" he warned, slapping her hard on the hip. "You stole from me. You're getting exactly what you deserve!" He grabbed a handful of bottom cheek and squeezed it, eliciting a howl of pain from her. "I can make this as easy or as rough as you want; it makes me no nevermind, but if you keep fighting me the way you're doing I swear to God I'll make you curse the day you were born. Understand?"

  Tears dripped from the corners of her eyes as she turned her head away, meekly nodding.

  "Jesus woman, you'd think you were a virgin the way you're carrying on. I ain't gonna steal anything from you; I'm just gonna borrow it for a while. You took from me, now I'm taking from you. Seems fair! Consider yourself lucky. You're getting off easy. I could have blown your head off! I'll tell you what," he whispered, smiling nastily, tugging her jeans down to her knees, "If you're real nice to me, I might even let you have some of that food, but if your not, well, then you'll get nothing but a sore ass."

  She shuddered as his fingers stroked her pubic hair then slipped between her legs. "Don't! Please!" she screamed hysterically as he inserted a finger inside her.

  He jammed it in and began moving it in and out of her.

  "You're hurting me," she cried out in pain. It felt like he was going to force his whole fist in, ripping her insides apart.

  He withdrew a little, eyeing her coldly, "I don't want to hurt you, but I will if I have to. What's the big deal, just lay back and enjoy it!"

  She was shivering with cold as he rolled off her. He yanked her jeans off, then undid his own. He lowered them only a little, then fumbled around inside with his hand. She quickly averted her eyes.

  "I'm not alone," she blurted out, hoping to scare him off. "My husband's got a gun. He'll kill you if he finds you here.

  "Do tell," he sneered, "Is that supposed to be my cue to pull up my pants and hightail it off into the woods, scared as shit? Don't count on it!"

  She looked over at him just in time to see his erect penis emerging from the gaping zipper of his pants. Alex felt sick to her stomach.

  "You're not only a thief, but a liar too. Shame on you," he taunted, grabbing her hand and forcing it to touch his rigid pole. "You haven't any husband. No man in his right mind would let a pretty little thing like you wander around alone out here and chance having her hurt. There are dangerous people in these mountains. They'd just as soon kill you as look at you. No man worth his salt would let his woman out of his sight now, leastwise not if he wanted to keep her."

  Her hands trembled as he forced her to stroke him.

  "That feels real nice. See it ain't so bad." He kissed her on the lips, then moved his mouth down along her throat to her shoulders and breasts.

  Alex lay motionless as he kissed and kneaded her flesh, wondering why he didn't just rape her and get it over with. He raised his head and looked down at her; a conqueror facing a vanquished enemy, ready to lay claim to the spoils. Her body went rigid, breath catching in her lungs. Rolling over on top of her, he quickly forced her thighs wide apart and after a few blind thrusts, found his way into her core. She whimpered at the pain, each movement rubbing her insides raw. He pawed her body while he pumped in and out of her. After a while, his roughness gave way to inept attempts at gentleness, but it was still godawful painful. Silent screams rose in her throat. He'd taken away her humanity; she was nothing more than an animal to him, to be chased down, captured, and mounted. He was violating, humiliating, and degrading her, and she couldn't do a damn thing to stop him.

  She wanted vengeance, wanted to kill him! His face flushed, eyes closing, his thrusts coming faster and deeper. Not wanting to alert him, her hand felt over the ground for a rock, something, anything to use as a weapon. But if there was one, it was buried beneath several inches of downed leaves and brittle, brown pine needles. Her fingers scratched at the soil, but couldn't unearth anything more lethal than a few small pebbles. He was groaning and moaning, his body shuddering as he spent himself inside her. All movement stopped as he lay motionless on top of her.

  He remained unaware, as Alex continued to claw the dirt. Her nails encountered something hard. She felt over it, pushing needles and leaves to the side, trying to get some idea of its size. It was a little wider than her palm, and, from what she could tell, maybe six inches long. Her eyes darted back to him; he'd yet to stir. Alex slowly lifted the stone, ready to bring it crashing down on his skull, envisioning splintered bone and rivulets of blood. The son of a bitch deserved to die for what he'd done to her! Her hand began to tremble uncontrollably. Alex bit her lip hard, and slowly lowered the stone. She couldn't do it. No matter what he'd done, she couldn't bring herself to kill him. Alex lay crying when she felt something stroke her cheek. He was staring down at her, looking sheepish.

  "It wasn't that bad was it?"

  If he was looking for forgiveness, he had another thing coming. He was a rapist, a degenerate, a fiend. The fact that he hadn't been more violent, in no way absolved him. She'd been forced against her will, brutalized, terrorized.

  He withdrew from her and got to his feet, pulling up his pants with his back toward her, suddenly modest.

  "Can I get up now?" she asked, sniffling.

  He nodded. "Are you OK?"

  She glared at him in stunned silence. What was this? Remorse? Was he joking? His concern for her well-being was laughable. A few pathetic words couldn't undo the damage he'd done.

  "I didn't hurt you did I? I mean you're not bleeding or anything?"

  Alex struggled to her feet, furiously rubbing her frozen bottom. She'd heard the question, but refused to answer. She'd barely gotten her jeans zipped up, when she felt his hands on her again. He spun her around so that she was facing him; then, as she struggled, he brought his mouth down on hers, smothering her with a kiss. After a second, he let her go, grinning as he stepped back.

  Glowering at him, Alex drew the back of her hand across her lips as though wiping away something disgusting.

  "Has anyone ever told you you're a cold fish? What you need is a real man. One who'll take you in hand and build a fire between those pretty legs of yours on a regular bases. Make you feel like a woman. I think it would do you a world of good."

  "Fuck you," she swore under her breath. She turned her back on him and pulled her shirt over her breasts, trying to find an intact button to secure it with. Her hands were shaking so badly that even when she found one, she couldn't fasten it. Alex heard footsteps moving away from her and turned to find him walking toward the thicket. She watched as he disappeared into the underbrush, only to reappear again holding her jacket and hat.

  "It's cold; you'll need these," he said handing them to her.

  She snatched them from his grasp and put the jacket on, the gesture contemptuous.

  "You know someone ought to teach you some manners. I wouldn't be too cocky if I were you. You ain't out of the woods yet," he cautioned, the threat of more violence wielded like a weapon to subdue her.

  If the words were meant to scare her, they'd succeeded. He controlled the situation…and her. He was letting her know that she was still at his mercy, that the ordeal could begin again whenever he chose. She loathed the son of a bitch. Thought he was a revolting
pig. But she wisely kept her feeling to herself. He was a violent, cruel man, able to unleash those dark emotions with little provocation. She sensed he wasn't a killer, but there was no way to know for sure. If she were to become the target of his anger again, all bets were off and she might never leave this place alive.

  "Are you going to let me go?" she asked, fearful what his answer would be.

  "Oh I don't know," he taunted, watching her cringe. "Maybe I'll just take you home with me! It's obvious you need a man to look after you. You won't live very long if you keep wandering around where you don't belong. Besides, I could use a little female companionship. Someone to warm my bed!"

  She looked horrified, fighting back tears. "You can't do that."

  "What's the matter, doesn't the idea appeal to you?" he asked, acting insulted. He studied her a moment, unmoved by her whimpered protests, then looked at the toboggan. "That's a lot of food for one person. It isn't just for you is it? You don't have a man, but you've got somebody else. Kids?"

  She nodded her head, worried she was revealing too much.

  "What's your name little lady? And don't lie to me," he warned.

  "Alex."

  "Alex," he repeated. "That a man's name."

  "It's Alexandra," she spat out through clenched teeth.

  "Sounds like a princess. It suits you. I'll tell you what I'm going to do for you Alexandra. I'm going to let you haul your thieving little ass back to wherever you came from. And if I were you, I'd keep myself close to home from now on. There's a lot of people out there that aren't as nice or as understanding and forgiving as me. Now get a move on before I change my mind."

  She lowered her eyes to the ground, then shifted her gaze to the sled, taking a hesitant step toward it.

  "Jesus fucking Christ woman! You don't know when to quit do you? You want that too"

  "Can't I at least have the books and maps?" she pleaded.

  He walked over to the sled and gave the pile of food a kick, toppling all of it to the ground, except for one canned ham and six dented cans of soup. "That's what you've got in there? Books, maps, and a couple of traps?"

  She nodded.

  "What the hell do you expect to do with them? Eat 'em?" he laughed, shaking his head as he lifted one of the books from the sled. "I bet you're a college girl," he sneered, dismissively. "A career woman. Got everything you ever wanted: nice house, pretty clothes. You were sheltered and coddled your whole life. Spoiled rotten! You don't know anything about the real world, except what you've read in books! You think you're going to figure out a way to stay alive with these?" he asked grimly, holding the book up and then throwing it down as though it were trash. "If you do, you're stupider than I thought. You're going to get yourself killed!" His features softened a bit. "You can keep what's left there. I figure we're even." He was about to leave when he noticed something else in the sled. He grabbed the coloring book and brandished it at her. "Are you fucking kidding me? You come here, practically begging to get yourself shot, and for what, a bunch of lousy books and this? You're a lost cause lady! Get out of here and don't ever come back. I won't be so easy on you the next time."

  Alex pulled on her hat, picked up her gloves and rushed to the sled, afraid he might change his mind.

  He threw the coloring book at her feet. "Here, don't forget this. Worse comes to worst, you can always burn it."

  Alex retrieved it, then picked up the rope and started walking away.

  "What? Don't I even get a thank you?" he asked in mock indignation.

  Alex turned back to him, fear still showing in her eyes. "Thank you," she spat out, teeth clenched, the words bitter on her tongue. It was the final humiliation. Alex took a deep breath, trying to stem the tide of tears building inside her, then, focusing on the ground ahead, began walking as fast as she could toward the swaying curtain of green.

  He watched as she struggled to make her way through the bushes, leaving a two-foot wide trail of trampled brush in her wake. He smirked. There was no rush, she'd be easy enough to follow. Alex hadn't seen the last of him!

  Chapter 12

  Alex straightened up with a start, dropping the fishing pole, her gaze fixed on the narrow trail leading down to the pond's edge. Someone was coming. Running toward her. She could hear the clatter of dislodged rocks, dried leaves crunching, twigs snapping and splintering, branches cracking as they were pushed aside. Alex reached for the ax she kept tucked in her belt. The feel of its cold metal head reassured her. It would protect her should the need arise. She could send it flying through the air like a tomahawk, directing it with deadly accuracy at a target of her choosing. It had taken her just three days to gain the necessary proficiency and skill to use it. Now it never left her side. It was unlikely she'd ever down game with it, but at 10 paces she could probably split a human skull in two. She wasn't out to hurt anyone, but if threatened, she'd retaliate in kind, killing them before they had a chance to hurt her or her children. She only wished she'd had it with her that day at the museum!

  "Alex," a frantic voice called. "Alex come quick!"

  "Charles what's wrong?" she shouted in alarm, hurrying off the ice, worried something had happened back at the camp: a fire, an accident, one of the children injured or sick.

  He appeared on the trail, scared and out of breath. "Strangers are coming! They're headed toward the cabin!"

  Alex paled, "Where are the children?" she demanded, worried for their safety.

  "I sent them down to the creek, below the bend. Deana's looking after them. Justin's standing watch on the rocks above. If they head his way, I told him to get the kids across the creek and hide in the woods. Was that right?"

  "You did fine," she assured him, her face lined with concern. "Did you get a good look at them?"

  "Just a glimpse through the trees." He hung his head, ashamed. "I…I was afraid to get any closer. Afraid they'd see me," he stammered, feeling like he'd failed her.

  "You did the right thing," she told him. "If you'd been seen, who knows how they would have reacted. You warned the others, gave them time to escape, that's as much as anyone could have done." She forced a weak smile and patted his arm. "It's going to be all right. We know they're here, but they don't necessarily know we are. That buys us time."

  "What do you suppose they're after?" Charles wanted to know.

  "Food probably, but who knows..."

  "Crap, if they get to the cabin..."

  "Yeah, I know. Everything we've worked for: all the food, wood, tools, bedding, clothes... It will all be for nothing. They'll take everything. Even the cabin."

  "Maybe they'll turn back before they get to it. They were more than a mile away when I saw them."

  Alex shook her head. "If they were looking for a place to take shelter, to stay a while, they could have taken the Freidman or Callahan camps. Damn it, I knew I should have torched them," she said, angered by her own stupidity. She'd thought about doing its several times, it was the only way to discourage squatters from coming in and straining the already meager food supply. She'd never done it though, thinking that the two ramshackle camps might someday mean the difference between some poor souls living or dying. Her compassion might prove to be their undoing.

  She hadn't expected anyone to come this far into the woods. The intruders might be looters, but that seemed unlikely. They wouldn't squander their energies following an old rutted trail into the woods, when there was no guarantee something of value would be found there. They'd concentrate their efforts on the lakeside camps, the weekend retreats of the affluent that stood crowded along the shoreline like ripe fruit, ready to be picked and devoured. Perhaps the strangers were trying to escape the violence and killings in the surrounding villages and towns. That possibility was no less threatening. People lacking shelter and food, victims driven by starvation and desperation, were more dangerous than cutthroats, since they had nothing left to lose. "Were they walking the road or in the woods?" she asked, looking for some clue as to their identity.

&nbs
p; "On the road."

  "Out in the open?" That seemed risky on their part.

  "Yes. Right down the middle," he replied, wondering why that was important.

  "Running or walking?"

  "Walking. Real slow like."

  Alex blanched.

  "What's the matter? Does that mean something?"

  "I don't know, maybe. I can't think its looters looking for a place to ransack. We're too far in for that. If they were hunting for game or foraging for food, they wouldn't be sticking to the road; they'd be scouring the woods for tracks and plants. And I can't imagine they're running from something. If you're in fear for your life, you stay hidden! You don't walk around out in the open where you're an easy target!"

  Charles nodded.

  "That's what worries me. These people aren't cautious. They're bold. Too damn bold!"

  "If they're not looters, and not people on the run, and they're not here looking for food, what does that leave?"

  "Somebody who's been here before; who knows about the cabin. It could be locals forced out of their own place. Or sportsmen who've hunted or fished here. Maybe a hiker or biker who came down the road once, just to see where it led. Most of the land on this side of the highway is state owned and for public use. Anybody could have wandered in here to pick berries, picnic, snowmobile, birdwatch, make out, or pee for that matter, seen the camp and remembered it."

  "What do we do?" Charles asked, voice faltering. "If you're right, they'll head straight for the cabin; and once they're there, they'll try to keep it for themselves!"

  "I wish I knew. How many were there?"

  "I only saw two for sure, but there could have been more."

  "Big men? Little men? Women? What?" she bombarded him with questions, trying to get a better idea of what they were facing.

  "I'm pretty sure one was a woman. At least they had long hair. The other was covered by a blanket so I couldn't see them."

  "Tall or short?"

  "One was my size. Maybe a couple of inches shorter."

  "About five five or five six then?"