That was too fucking close.
I’m not planning on getting shot. I’m getting the keys to my new kingdom, and when we’re done here, I’m fetching my queen.
Eve
All hell has broken loose, but to me it sounds like angels singing a fiery lullaby. The sound of the men dying on the yard outside is sweeter than a mother soothing her baby. Certainly sweeter than my own mother ever was.
I haven’t slept one minute, and the real hell has been these foul rooms. Locked inside a sparsely furnished, chilly chamber, with nothing but a bucket to use and a cooling plate of food I can’t touch, I’ve been forced to listen to the sounds of copulating couples. Everything turned frantic after we were relocated. It all seemed to happen at once. We were forced into showers, then thrown new clothes to put on. I was pushed into this room and no one’s spoken to me since. I learned to distinguish the voices of the women here, and of the men. I know now why a woman’s body is kept so closely guarded by her mother and father. Men are devils, with nothing but hurtful appendages, hard, pounding, ripping, tearing.
I have listened all night, and I know everyone even though I haven’t seen them. Most of all, I know Joe.
Farmer Joe.
His voice is thick and rough, sounding like something that can cut through stone. He barks out orders. He hurt my friend when he went to her room. My beautiful, intelligent, compassionate Kiki tried to reason with him, tried to be seductive, asked about me even though she was in immediate danger herself.
‘On the floor!’ he shouted. ‘On your knees, bitch.’
She fought him for forever, but in the end she shattered. She cried bitter tears of pain. I cried right along with her, pressed against the wall that separates us, my nose thick and my mouth salty, tasting of defeat and crushed hopes.
It finally quieted down from Kiki’s room, but I heard the others. In pain. In despair. Beautiful, terrified women, brutalized by the men who think they can take rights no one has given them.
I thought I knew hate, but the fiery, white-hot rage that has risen inside me these past hours doesn’t play on the same side of the field as my feelings for Mother and Father, the belt, that they left Grandmother alone to die with me, or that I was called a freak my whole life. Those things made me want to channel my pain and frustration into clay. This all-consuming fire makes me want to burn down the world. I don’t feel like creating. I want to destroy.
So yes, the sound of panicked voices from the same men who have spent the night tormenting my sisters, and the last whimpers as they die in a hail of gunfire, is music to my ears.
I pace my little room until the lock clicks and the door quickly opens and closes. I smell the blood and the choking odor of semen, and behind it the unmistakable essence of Kiki.
“Are you all right?” she whispers from somewhere below me. I realize she’s on the floor and that maybe it’s a good idea since we’re in fact being shot at. Going down on all fours, I scramble to meet her. Our hands find each other, and then she’s around my neck, pulling me into a hug. Kiki trembles violently. She’s terrified. I reach inside, listen to my own heart, find my clenched-up stomach, seek whatever emotion hides in there, and discover I’m not afraid. I don’t feel anything but the anger that has grown inside since we got to the farm, that has risen exponentially during this last night.
I caress Kiki’s back in long, comforting strokes. “Where did the man go?”
“Who?”
“The man who was with you?”
Kiki groans. “Oh, please tell me you didn’t hear.”
“I heard. Tell me where he went.”
A shudder runs through her, as if she remembers things she’d rather forget. I’m saddened that I have to be the one to remind her, but it’s a necessary evil.
“There was a loud bang, some kind of explosion, and then another. He ran out, screaming orders in his walkie-talkie. Then the shooting started. He never locked the door, so I came to find you. We need to get out of here.”
“No. You need to stay here and rest. You will be all right, I promise.”
I listen with one ear to Kiki, the other keeps track of what’s going on outside. More men from both the attackers and our captors have joined the fight. Joe talks about a bunker where he can wait out the attack with his closest men.
No!
No bunker for Joe.
The attackers are not here for us.
The people with the guns are here for Joe, and they will have him. The enemy of my enemy is my friend and I know what to do. I know how I can be of use. He’s trying to be sneaky, trying to get away. I will be the distraction they need.
They need me. They need the freak.
I will hear the farmer’s scream.
“Stay here,” I say again and stand. I reach for the zipper on my back and pull it down, letting my dress fall to the floor. Pulling out the tie from my hair I release my frizzy mane. The last to go is my panties.
“Eve!” Kiki tries to hold me back, but I shake her off. My whole being is focused on the man with the thick voice. He’s out there, hiding, screaming for barricades. He’s upset. This is not a man used to war, used to being abused. He always gets what he wants without anyone pushing back. He’s afraid – a squeaky little coward who deserves what’s coming for him.
When earth collapses, you don’t survive by using and abusing. You survive with love and compassion. I have no tolerance left for bullies.
There are thuds when bullets hit the walls of the house. A draft and a scent of the outdoors, of dust and grass, gives me a sense of direction. I turn toward the anger and the shouting. Behind me Kiki pleads, but I close my ears to her whimpers.
It’s time to fulfill my promise.
It’s time for Farmer Joe to face his reckoning.
Adam
We’ve ended up in a stand-off, exchanging bullets but not advancing. I don’t want to shoot up the place entirely and have to repair everything. To be honest, I expected less resistance. I got the impression that maybe the security wasn’t that loyal to Joe, but it seems I was wrong.
The other side stops firing abruptly and the shouting quiets down. I have to crawl to the side to see what’s going on.
The door to the large house has opened and down the stairs comes a vision that looks like nothing I’d expect to see on earth.
She’s completely naked and her skin is almost painfully pale. She’s close to six feet tall and her huge, white hair stands in all directions, making her appear even taller. Her eerie light eyes stare into the distance as if she’s seeing things the rest of us can’t.
And maybe she does?
I forget where I am. All I see is Eve. I lurch to my feet and move toward her, my instinct to take her and protect her stronger than my self-preservation. Coran talks behind me, but I barely hear him.
Eve doesn’t know I’m here. How could she? Her focus is aimed at a man who comes into my vision as I keep walking. Her lips move, but I can’t hear her words. The man stares at her, transfixed.
I understand him.
Eve looks like an angel of vengeance. There’s an expression on her face I never got to see during my time in her house, an expression I saw on all those clay statues, a silent scream, deep, dark agony twisted into fury.
The man before her stumbles to his feet. He’s a fat, ragged little redneck in a checkered red shirt and green cargo pants. His hay-blond hair is a mess, and he’s unshaved, with the stubble reaching below the neckline of the shirt. He looked more composed in the pictures, but I recognize Farmer Joe without a doubt.
No one speaks, then his face twists and he lifts his gun.
All my synapses fire right back to life at once. I raise my gun and pull the trigger.
It’s as if everything dies with the man who falls before Eve’s feet as his blood sprays across her face and breasts. He writhes on the ground, clutching his chest, screaming.
I hear bitch, and freak.
And that’s quite enough of the insults. My whole gan
g rises as one, our guns lifted, and we march up toward the entrance. The remaining guards throw down their weapons. I plant a boot on Joe’s throat. His blue pig eyes are wide and frightened. He whimpers, still managing to cast a last glare of hate at Eve. I look at her while I point my gun at Joe. She raises her head and faces me as she frowns. Then a whole slew of emotions race across her features. Next to me, my people have begun to round up the prisoners. We’ll sort out who’s loyal and who isn’t.
“Fucking freak!” Joe chokes out as a bubble of red plops from his mouth.
I throw him one last glance and end his misery with a shot between his eyes.
Eve flinches, but then she reaches for me.
“Adam?”
“You’re a woman full of surprises,” I say.
“I made him scream.”
I tear off my jacket and wrap it around Eve’s shoulders, pulling her into my arms. “You sure did.”
Chapter Fifteen
Eve
Adam’s scent surrounds me, bold, musky, heady, doing me in. He smells of memories of clay and sweat, of arousal and of letting go of my fears. He smells of games of lust and love. Him being here is so wrong that it’s right. Our paths converging this morning, far away from our origins, feels like the most natural of things.
When it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be.
The monster on the ground is annihilated, and my mouth is filled with his thick, metallic tasting blood. His rattling breaths went silent after that last shot, and the world seems a little bit cleaner already. Adam wraps me in his embrace, strong and unflinching, as if I need comforting.
I don’t.
I’m bone weary and yet I’ve never felt more invincible in my life. My body vibrates with restless energy and a need for action, a need to set things right.
“Save the girls,” I say. “Tell your people to be gentle. They are scared and hurt.”
Adam doesn’t let me go. I feel him twist as he directs his men. “In the house. There are prisoners. Eve, do you know if there are more men inside?”
I think back, pull recent impressions to the surface, then I shake my head. “None that breathed.”
Adam presses his cheek against mine, crushing me to him, his lips move against my ear. “You bad, bad girl. How did you end up here? I should spank you for being out. I should spank you even more for being in such fucking danger.”
A hot rush bleeds through my chest, drips along my belly and right between my legs. I suddenly realize I’m close to naked, and that his words make my nether parts burn. In the midst of the blood and the chaos, I want his man parts, his deft long fingers, his heavy, hard body on me, in me. I want to devour and be devoured.
“Let me take you out of here,” whispers Adam, then he scoops me up in his arms, cradling me to his chest as if I weigh nothing. “Coran! Take two and secure the main house. Steve, check in with Fence and Water, and see if they need reinforcements. Robbie and Wrench, guard these fucking pretend cowboys. The rest of you, get your asses into the building, look for presumed prisoners. Keep your masks on at all times. Go!”
We move. Adam won’t stop talking, his grave murmurs soothing and pleasant in my ear.
“You crazy lady. How did you end up here? I’m so sorry I left you. I wanted to explain, but there was no time. I always meant to come back for you, you know that, right? I knew your friend was coming over and that you were taken care of.”
“You should have told me you were coming back.”
“Did you go here because you thought I had left you?”
“Yes and no. My friend did come, but she came with a terrible idea.”
While Adam carries me inside another house, that also reeks of the monster we killed, I tell him about what happened after he left, and he tells me how he came to be in my house to begin with, and now here. It all comes back to the farmer, funny enough. We met thanks to Farmer Joe, the power-hungry beast, we were torn apart because of him, and likewise reunited.
We took him out together.
I don’t trust my parents’ God. He’s a punishing, harsh, cruel deity. He is belt and brimstone. He is flat knees from kneeling on cold stone floors. He is knuckles stiff from too many hours of praying and pleading for forgiveness that never comes. But I do believe we’re in the hands of unseen forces that fight for us, that lead us on our paths in life. I waited a long time for Adam, and now that I’ve found him, it seems that nothing can tear us apart.
I find his stubbled chin, stroke the tips of my fingers up along his jawline, feel his clenched muscles, his tension.
“You’re in pain,” I say.
“House is secure, Pi,” says the voice I’ve come to recognize as Coran. It’s a deep, well-modulated voice that reverberates through my chest. I believe this man would be a good singer. I imagine him as a giant. I’ll ask to make an image of him some day when I’m not famished and covered in the blood of a monster.
“Let’s get you into a shower,” says Adam.
“Eh…Pi,” says Coran. “No water.”
The sticky substance on my face suddenly feels thicker and itchier.
“Well fuck me,” says Adam. “How long?”
“I’ll check with the water guys when they can hook us up. If we’re lucky they just have to turn a valve back at the plant and we’re good to go until we’ve patched things up here.”
“Go! Do it. Make shit happen.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Please,” I say, “Cor— Coran…”
“Yes, ma’am?”
So polite. For me.
“Let my friend know I’m all right and taken care of. She has long dark hair, straight, with bangs. Slanted eyes. Kiki. And please…take care of her. She’s hurt.” The memory of the sounds from her room makes me almost lose my breath as bile rises in my throat.
“I will find your friend. None of the women got hurt in the gun fight. I know that much.”
There are footsteps, then a door slams shut somewhere.
I hold my hand cupped over Adam’s cheek. “You’re in pain,” I repeat. “I want to take it from you.”
We move and then he sits on something soft, still cradling me to him. “You beautiful, crazy, amazing woman. Do you have any idea how much you scared me when you walked out of that house? When he was about to shoot you? Can you imagine what you put me through?”
I try to picture it, but I can’t. To me the world is scents and sounds, taste and touch. I can’t for the life of me picture what it must have looked like to Adam when I stood before the gun.
“It had to be done. I had the one chance, and I had to take it.”
“We were going to take him out. He’d have surrendered in the end.”
“But at what cost? If he had come back into the house? Taken the girls hostage?”
Adam groans and leans his forehead against mine. “I could have lost you.” His voice is powerful, and yet there’s a slight tremble there, a vulnerability. He’s so strong, but he’s still soft flesh and a quivering heart.
“I’m here now. Where is your son?”
“Toad is back home. I’ll go get him as soon as we get this place in order.”
“You’re moving here?”
“We’re moving here, Eve. Where do you think you’re going? Ever again? You’re staying with me. You know that, right? I’ll give you everything you need. Material to work with, a workshop, air, freedom from everyone but me, because I’m not letting you out of my sight again.”
“Pi!” Coran’s voice takes us both by surprise, judging from Adam’s twitching. I never heard him approach, which is unusual for me. The man moves like a big, sneaky cat.
“Got any news for me, Cor?”
“They’re fixing it. We should have running water in thirty.”
“I hope that’s minutes.”
“Yep.”
“Tell them they did good and to start packing. This place’s got space for a lot of people, and we’re gonna need bodies to manage it.”
“Know a
nything about farming?” says Coran.
Adam laughs. The sound sends a wave of warmth flooding my chest.
“Not really, but I hope we didn’t need to get rid of all the cowboys out there.”
“Absolutely not. We didn’t have to take out more than a few. Most are just workers who were forced to grab a gun when we attacked. They gave up with little resistance.”
I tense, feeling as if I’ll break. The warmth inside is suddenly replaced by crawling unease. Adam hugs me tighter.
“What’s up, Eve?”
“Are you going to let everyone stay?”
“If they’re not loyal with Joe, then yeah, that was the plan. We need the workforce to keep the place running and safe.”
It feels as if all blood drains from my face. The horrors of last night come back with full force, slamming into my guts, shaping a hard, cold knot. “It’s just that—” I bite down on my lip, taste the blood and recoil. Everything is wrong. I think of Kiki. Where is she? Where is everyone? I try to get up, but Adam holds me back with ease.
“That what? Say your piece. Never be afraid to talk to me about anything.”
“Some of them…are not good men.”
Adam is silent. I wait, hold my breath.
I recognize the moment for what it is. This is where everything ends, or where it all begins. Adam can make a wrong choice, or a right choice. If he lets rapists stay on the farm, then he’s no better man himself. My heart pounds, slow, steady, but with increasing heaviness for every passing second.
“Coran, are you hearing this?”
“Yes, sir. I am.”
“I’m putting you in charge of the vetting. Talk to the girls. Not one single fucking rapist stays.”
My heart bursts fully open. This man, this unique man with his pain, his precious little son with the funny nickname, his strong and yet careful hands, is my path forward. This is where I’ve been going since long before I knew it.
I Am Eve Page 12
