The Less Fortunates

by Charles C Martin

12

  Once I got to about waist deep, I stopped and submerged my whole body underwater. Becca, about twenty feet from me, did the same. Now she looked like she belonged. Her hair slicked back just below her shoulders with her eyes closed.

  “Better?” I asked.

  “Yeah. How bad does my hair look?” she asked. “Like on a scale of one to ten, ten being like Medusa and one just bad.”

  I looked at her confused. There wasn’t anything wrong with her hair.

  “It looks great.”

  She looked at me like I was a freak. It made me realize she didn’t appreciate her beauty. Maybe that or she just didn’t realize it. I was unsure. We made our way back to the small beach in front of the lake. Forest had left a large pile of sea grapes at the base of a palm tree.

  “Want one?” I asked pointing to the pile.

  “Nooooo. At least not now,” she said.

  We sat for a while without speaking while the sun began to disappear over the horizon.

  “In one of our first foster homes,” said Becca. “They had a hill behind their house. Forest and I used to watch every sunset together on that hill. I loved it.”

  “Sounds like they were nice,” I said.

  “We weren't allowed in the house until bed time. It was crowded enough inside with their own kids.”

  “Oh,” I replied. “I can relate to that. Remember my best friend I told you about?”

  “Timothy?” she asked.

  “Yeah. We would do the same thing. But it was in a field, and we didn’t want to be inside.”

  At the same time we both heard the sound of footsteps approaching around the corner.

  Becca quickly turned around and stood up. “Forest,” she said.

  “Well, now what do we have here,” came a strange, deep, raspy voice. I stood up next to Becca.

  Two men turned the corner. Where I grew up you learned to spot trouble pretty damn quick. It was all in the facial expressions. Their faces would light up a little, almost like they were friendly, but really they were just excited about taking something.

  They looked to be in their twenties or maybe thirties, both with long dreadlocks. They were muscular and over six feet tall. The one on the left had skin the color of charcoal, the one on the right had lighter skin and carried a machete. They wore dark faded vests with no undershirt and baggy pants. The pants had loose threads at the bottom that dragged in the water.

  “Whatsup,” I said. They didn’t even look at me when I spoke. They confidently approached Becca.

  “How are you feeling today, beautiful?” asked the dark skinned man.

  “Becca,” I whispered. “Run!”

  We sprinted toward the overgrowth, and I heard Becca scream. I quickly stopped and turned around. She hadn’t even made it three steps before one of them had tackled her. The dark skinned one had his hand on top of her head pushing the side of her face into the sand and his knee on her back.

  I rushed back. “Don’t touch her!” I shouted.

  The one pushing Becca’s head into the sand stared at me and tilted his head sideways.

  The other one with the machete laughed and locked his eyes on mine. He smiled and casually walked my way. The veins on his forearm were pulsating from the grip he had on the long blade. I could feel my heart pumping like a freight train. My palms were sweating and my throat was locking up. I hated to admit it, but I froze like a damned frightened animal. I tried to shake it, but I couldn’t.

  The dark skinned man stood up and pulled a machete from a sheath on his waist that I hadn’t seen before.

  “Wait,” he said.

  The light skinned man stopped about four feet from me. He looked evil as hell. They both did. The dark skinned man held the point of his machete to Becca’s head and said, “Stay down,” as if talking to a dog. Time seemed to freeze for a moment. I was beginning to get my head straight and thinking again, but there just weren’t any options. Couldn’t run, couldn’t fight. This was it.

  “What’s your name?” asked the dark skinned man.

  “Joey.”

  “Joey, are you a businessman?” The man was smiling and it freaked me out.

  “No.”

  “Well, you can start now. Business is about choices, making the right ones. I’m going to give you a choice today.”

  I nodded and tried my best to look calm.

  “You can die in fifteen seconds give or take a few. We will use this bitch for a little while then kill her. That’s one choice. Do you want to hear the other?”

  I nodded and whispered, “Yes,” more softly than I wanted to.

  “See that tall pine over there?” he asked pointing with his machete.

  I turned around and saw a towering pine about 200 yards away through the overgrowth.

  “Yes.”

  “Go there. Sit and wait. We will be done with her in an hour. She will meet you there alive. Ever mention this to anyone and we will find you both, and we will kill you slowly.”

  I swallowed some spit and looked at Becca. She was turned the other way, and I couldn’t see her face. I could tell her body was trembling.

  The light skinned man took another step toward me and raised his machete as if to swing. “Ok,” I said quietly and held my hand up. I turned around and started walking away.

  “Joey,” said the dark skinned man. I turned around.

  “Remember me well. I gave you life today.”

  I continued walking and heard the light skinned man say, “You too nice, Monti.”

  “They are lucky. Now, little bitch, you treat us right.”

  I couldn’t hear birds anymore, just my heartbeat. My mind went blank and dark. The only thing I could manage was robot like steps toward the pine tree.

  The sound of a slap. “No!” I heard Becca yell in a trembling voice, and then muffled crying.

  I just kept going. One step, another step, another. Then something happened in my chest. Heat. It formed until I felt like I was going to explode. I gritted my teeth so hard I could feel the grain coming off while tears started pouring down my face. Sadness turned into rage. I wanted to fucking kill them.

  I turned around, ready to face the fuck out of suicide. I tried to think through the volcano. I walked faster, faster. There were no sticks or rocks. What I would do for that fucking knife.

  The world around me was getting smaller. No blue water, no fish, no birds, no palm trees. Only two men, twenty feet away now and closing fast. I bent down quietly and picked up two handfuls of sand without stopping. The last patch of high grass folded down before me. Fucking tiger. There was nothing between us now but air.

  Becca was on her back without a shirt, barely moving. The dark skinned man had one hand over her mouth and was using the other to pull off her shorts. His friend watched. He sensed something and began to turn around. The fear was gone. I closed the remaining ten feet like it wasn’t even there. He was able to lift his Machete up a few inches before I smothered sand in his eyes. My arms around his body, I drove with my legs like it was a tackling drill. The left side of my face pressed against his side.

  I leaned in and bit as hard as my jaws would allow. I felt his blood on my tongue. The man screamed and tripped backwards. We fell into the sand. Groin. Groin. It was like the word was a fucking billboard in my head. I released my left hand and struck the area three times then felt for whatever lump of meat I could get my hand on. Pressure, squeeze, twist. He convulsed into a ball, coughing. I reached for the machete and pulled just hard enough to free it from his hands. Blood ran down my fingers.

  There was no time to stand. I bear crawled to Becca in a storm of flying sand. The dark skinned man punched her in the side of the head and grabbed his Machete. He tried to stand, but I swung first. The blade went halfway through his left forearm. A splash of blood flew into the air like spraypaint. I swung again and pulled the blade out. A streak of silver flew below me. Pain started on my left side and shot through my body. His machete turned red. I felt blood gushing over
my stomach and thigh. I swung a second time and hit his skull. His face was now covered in blood. The dark skinned man was moving slowly. I should have stopped. Instead I swung again and again and again. He was motionless. I was empty of everything but adrenaline and rage.

  I lifted the machete over my head again. My right arm stopped in midair, and the handle was forced out of my grip. The light skinned man threw me to the ground. Becca latched onto his leg, and he kicked her in the face. I was running out of life and luck. This was it. He quickly raised the blade. I put my arm over my face and watched him from one eye. The man’s head tilted way back like it was being pulled from behind. A knife quickly appeared in front of his neck. It made a deep slice across his throat.

  The man collapsed. Forest stood there with his fingers wrapped tightly around his blood-soaked knife. There was momentary silence. Wind blew over some palm trees, rustling the branches together. Becca cried uncontrollably. Forest dropped his knife and went to his knees to hold her. My head crashed to the sand. My mouth was dry with a mixture of sand and blood that reached down to my throat. I didn’t move, only stared at the same group of stars. Orion.

  Becca put her bra back on.

  “Here,” Forest handed her shirt to her.

  “See if Joey’s okay,” she cried.

  Forest approached me. Both men lay dead in the sand, one at my feet, the other above me. I knew I may be dying, but I couldn’t believe I was still breathing and that they were dead, not me.

  I felt lightheaded, cold, and wanted to go sleep.

  “You’re cut bad man, really bad,” said Forest. “There’s some caves about a mile that way. Can you walk at all? We gotta get out of here.”

  “We have to stop the blood first,” said Becca while tears still flowed down her face.

  Instead of putting her shirt on she ripped it down the middle. “Lift your arm Joey,” she said.

  Becca pulled the shirt tight around the large gash that ran along the base of my ribs. She fastened it around my side in a large knot. The adrenaline was starting to wear off. The cut felt like someone was holding a flame onto my skin.

  I was able to stand up, but not sure how long I could walk. There was no way in hell I could go a whole mile. Becca spit on the man that tried to rape her. That was the last time I looked at him. Five minutes before he was full of so much life and confidence. I knew that face would haunt me.

  “We have to move them,” said Forest. He grabbed the ankles of the dark-skinned man and drug him into the nearby bush. He did the same with the other man then kicked away his foot prints.

  “Let’s go,” said Forest. “Joey, tell me if you need help.”

  “We have to bring Joey to a hospital, not a cave,” she snapped.

  Forest didn’t say anything. Instead he looked at me to see how I would respond.

  I shook my head, “No,” I said.

  “Joey, you could die,” said Becca.

  “It’s ok. Let’s go to the cave,” I answered.

  “No,” said Becca.

  “He’s right,” said Forest. “We’re fugitives from another country that just killed two people. They won’t believe a damn thing we say. We’ll be old and gray by the time they release us from whatever cage they lock us up in.”

  It was dark out. The moon was covered and only revealing a tiny slice of light. The wind had calmed down, but it still blew enough to keep most of the bugs away. Every step hurt. I had some kind of stinging rash between my legs but I hardly noticed it because of the burning in my side.

  “Walk in the water,” said Forest. “It will be harder to track.”

  My head hung low while I kept pressure on the wound. My shoulders slumped. I tried to enter a trance by focusing on the monotony of my feet in the water.

  “Who were they?” asked Forest.

  “I don’t know,” said Becca softly. “They walked up on us and tried to rape me.”

  “They tried to kill Joey first?” asked Forest.

  “No,” she said. “They said he could live if he walked away. And they would rape me and let me go when they were finished. Or they would kill us both.”

  “Did he walk away?” asked Forest.

  “Yes.”

  “Then what the hell was all that?”

  “He came back,” she said.

  “To fight?” asked Forest.

  “Yes.”

  “Without a weapon, just his hands?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  My knees betrayed me. I went down on all fours. The taste of sand and saltwater filled my mouth and made me cough, which hurt like all hell.

  “Forest!” shouted Becca. They rushed toward me.

  “C’mon, brother. Only a little further,” said Forest. I was still somewhat conscious, and it felt strange hearing him call me brother. He grabbed hold of my right hand and draped it over his shoulders. We continued down the trail through dark waters and high grass. I tried my best to stay awake and lighten his load with my feet.

  “Are we close?” asked Becca.

  “Those big rocks up ahead,” said Forest.

  With my head down I rolled my eyes up enough to make out the large shapes. They looked close, very close. The tough part was knowing that up ahead was nothing more than a place to hide. It would be cold, hard, with nothing to sleep on but rocks and sand. No food, water, or blanket. Nothing. Before I didn’t give a shit. Now my body felt like pure hell. But the point of no return was a long ass time ago. We had to keep pushing on.