Badlands (Spent Shells, #1)

by Hunter, Bijou

  Anika’s smile enchants me. She reminds me so much of my mother when her face lights up. The child thanks my sister and then cuddles her brightly colored toy.

  Frida watches her daughter, and I can’t read her expression. I’ve never known suffering like these two endured. My parents adored me. I grew up feeling safe. But I do know the hell brewing in my parents’ eyes. They were not loved as children. They suffered greatly, only finding comfort with each other.

  This is what I see in Frida’s eyes now.

  “Can you say, ‘Neri’?” asks my sister.

  The little girl struggles to say the word correctly. Once she does, my sister claps her hands. Frida’s melancholy lifts as she watches her daughter warming up to us.

  “Do you enjoy all this hair?” Neri asks, running her fingers down Frida’s waist-long braid.

  “We aren’t allowed to cut it.”

  “Says who?”

  “The Children of the Black Sun.”

  “Do you care for anyone back there?” I ask.

  Frida shakes her head. “They claim we are family in the eyes of the Lord, but it’s a lie. They don’t care about Anika and me.”

  “Do you get headaches a lot?” Neri asks, and I frown. When Frida nods, my sister sighs. “Tight, heavy ponytails cause headaches. I learned that from a woman where we live.”

  “Salete?” I ask, and my sister nods.

  “Would you be okay with cutting it shorter? We would be smart to change our appearances until we’ve reached Nicaragua.”

  “Cut it,” Frida says, growing more fatigued by the minute.

  As I move the leftover food to a small black fridge, my sister takes Frida and Anika to the bathroom.

  While they clean up, I think about our safety. Security cameras installed in the Land Rover allow me to watch outside our room. Though I worry someone followed Neri from the store, the parking lot remains eerily quiet. Not even the elderly couple stirs nearby. I pray our journey south continues to be uneventful.

  Keeping myself busy, I check my weapons and then my phone and then the cameras again.

  Finally, Frida emerges from the bathroom wearing a loose pair of sweatpants and a looser-fitting shirt. Her light brown hair now rests at her shoulders. An excited Anika walks to the mirror. I’m surprised to see her lush dark blonde hair cut short except for floppy bangs. The child wears navy blue shorts and a pale blue shirt with a white rabbit on the front.

  Neri grins and says in Spanish, “If they’re searching for a little girl, this outfit will throw them off. Plus, she looks so adorable.”

  I smile at my sister’s reasoning before approaching Frida, who watches me warily. I reach out to caress her hair despite feeling brash. I should give her space, but I lose track of myself when she stares at me.

  Frida’s gaze warms, and her lips nearly curve into a smile to mimic mine.

  Running a hand through my wavy dark brown hair, I ask, “Will you crave me as much if I’m blond?”

  For the first time since we arrived, Frida truly smiles. The hope in her brown eyes is a marvelous sight to behold.

  FRIDA

  Neri confuses me. She killed the shepherds at the roadside stands. Not once did she show fear or remorse. Shooting them meant so little to her. She’s cold inside.

  Yet she gets so silly in the bathroom when she shows off the tiny shampoo and soap to Anika. She even talks my daughter into putting her new, beloved toys in a yellow backpack.

  “They won’t get lost,” Neri says and opens the bag. “This is yours.”

  “Mama,” Anika says, proudly showing it to me.

  “Yes, you got so many beautiful presents.”

  Neri explains to Anika how she’ll cut my hair and then lets her hold my braid.

  “Mama?” Anika asks, sounding worried when she sees the scissors.

  “No pain,” I say as Neri cuts off two feet of hair.

  Seeing my hair gone, Anika mumbles, “Oh, no.”

  “Doesn’t she look beautiful?” Neri asks and winks at my daughter.

  Anika loves when people act silly. Whenever Neri sticks out her tongue, my baby smiles. Her chubby cheeks get higher and higher each time. I wish I could make her smile that way.

  Neri trims my hair until the ends rest at my shoulders. I immediately feel lighter. Cutting my hair severs a link to the homestead. It’s also another reason they’ll have to destroy Anika and me if they ever catch us.

  “Do you want a haircut?” she asks Anika.

  “No pain,” I whisper.

  Anika wants to please Neri. People are never nice to my daughter. She’s too young to work or rape. Because of her chubby cheeks, the women at the homestead complain she’s fat and eats too much. That’s why the shepherds reduced our portions, and my baby often went to bed hungry.

  My heart is filled with shame when I think of how just yesterday Anika asked for more food, and I hadn’t saved any of mine for her. My selfishness made her cry.

  Neri strokes my face and awakens me from my dark thoughts. “Can I cut her hair shorter? It’ll grow back if you don’t like it.”

  Nodding, I’m overwhelmed. I don’t know where we are and what these people want. I’m afraid to watch my daughter die. Now I’ve doomed her to a violent end. What good can possibly come out of what happened today?

  “Mama?” Anika asks, rubbing her short, almost boy-like haircut once Neri is done with the buzzer. My baby is nervous about how she looks. The women at the homestead are expected to grow their hair long, but I don’t remember why. Most of the teachings got jumbled in my mind long ago. I just know the rules, and I follow them. Until today, when I messed up.

  Anika’s lower lip thrusts out, and she looks ready to cry. She doesn’t like her hair. Or thinks I don’t like it. Neri seems a little nervous too.

  “You look so beautiful,” I whisper to Anika.

  My daughter isn’t sure if she should believe me and lowers her chin to her chest. Yes, baby, submit. Never stand up for yourself. Silence your needs. Obey.

  Again, Neri caresses my cheek. This time, she whispers in my ear. “I will kill anyone who tries to hurt you and your child. My brother will burn down the world to protect you. Don’t be afraid.”

  Regaining my composure, I reach for Anika and run my fingers through her short hair.

  “They call it a pixie. I don’t know why,” Neri says, sounding nervous again. “It’s the best I could do. I’ve only cut my family’s hair. Never a child’s.”

  “It’s perfect,” I say, forcing a smile and lifting Anika’s chin so she’ll look at me. “You’re such a pretty girl. My sweet Anika.”

  Smiling nervously, Anika points to the mirror. I lift her up and walk in front of the sink. She looks at herself and smiles. Earlier today, she seemed surprised by the sight of herself in the bathroom. I realized she’d never seen herself before.

  Anika likes her haircut. Feeling braver, she even gets in the shower with me. I’m not embarrassed to be naked in front of Neri. There was no privacy at the homestead.

  I wash us off before dressing in the clothes Neri bought. It’s been so long since I wore pants, and I love how soft the shirt feels on my skin.

  Through it all, Anika keeps an eye on her backpack. Once we’re done, she cradles it and checks inside to see her toys.

  My mood wavers between despair at what tomorrow will bring and joy at how happy Anika looks as she bounces out of the bathroom.

  She immediately goes to the long mirror on the wall. Tilting her head back and forth, she smiles at the way her bangs flop. I stand behind her, afraid to see myself. I used to love my face. I looked like my mom, and she was beautiful. But then at the homestead, I heard again and again how vanity was evil. Admiring myself was wrong. My mother was shallow. My old life ruined me.

  I look in the reflection and see a normal person. My hands go to my damp hair, and I let my fingers linger on the soft fabric of my blue shirt. Standing in front of me, Anika makes funny faces at herself. Giggling, she sounds so
different. I’ve only heard her this happy when we sneaked away to the woods and played tag.

  Turning my attention to Kai standing near the door, I almost understand his interest in me. My mother was an attractive woman, and I resemble her.

  I’ve spent years submitting to the will of others. When Kai holds my gaze and smiles, I can see no downside to submitting to him. Then he asks me a question about craving him, and I realize I actually do. Not only because he saved Anika and me today. Or because he’s been kind to us.

  Kai’s handsome face is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. He seems unreal, like a dream I made up in my head. Except I’m not smart enough to imagine a man this good looking.

  His touch awakens my flesh. Am I feeling lust?

  “Frida,” he murmurs, saying my name in a voice I feel on my skin.

  “Sunshine,” I whisper. “That’s the name my mom gave me. The one I had before the homestead. She would call me Sunny, but Jedidiah said the name was sinful.”

  Kai’s smile widens. “In Nicaragua, the ocean breeze can sweep away your worries as the sunshine warms your heart.”

  “I can’t picture your home.”

  Kai gestures for me to sit at the small, round table next to the front windows. As I obey him, he finds pictures on his phone. Nearby, Anika sits on the floor, looking at her toys with Neri. The burn of jealousy rises in me when I see how much a stranger does for my daughter.

  “This is my mama,” Kai says, drawing my attention to the phone.

  I’m surprised by how blonde his mother is, having assumed she was a dark beauty like her children.

  “Her name is Mia. This is my father, Jake.”

  His large, dark-haired father fits better with what I expect. They’re both so beautiful, and I understand how they make such good-looking children.

  With ocean waves in the background, his parents stand together on the beach. They’re both in loose denim shorts and white shirts.

  Kai presses a button, and a video begins with his parents speaking. I can’t understand them, but they smile easily. Then a younger Neri appears in the video. Her long, straight brown hair is loose around her shoulders as she does a cartwheel before joining her parents.

  My curious daughter hears people on the phone and hurries over to see. Crawling on my lap, she holds her duck doll against her body and grips the restaurant toy in her hand. Kai shows her more videos. He encourages her to say, “more” and “next.” She lights up whenever he praises her. I’ve never seen her eyes shine as bright as they do today.

  My baby and I realize the same thing—Kai and Neri are warm people welcoming us in from the cold.

  NERI

  I’m not surprised by my brother’s feelings for Frida/Sunshine/Sunny. Her name doesn’t matter. The woman reminds him of our mother, who’s his ideal. It’s always been that way.

  Sunny—the name I prefer and will refer to her as—doesn’t look like our mother. Yes, they are both white women. Where our mother is blonde and blue-eyed, Kai’s object of desire has hazel eyes and light brown hair. On the surface, they aren’t the same. Sunny is taller with longer limbs. Mom is dainty, fragile even at her healthiest. What they share—besides my brother’s devotion—is the gaze of a lost, damaged woman.

  Kai’s need for Sunny makes sense to me, but our father won’t approve until we’re back in Nicaragua. His heart is cold to the problems of outsiders. A painful childhood didn’t allow him to be sentimental. He loves Mama, Kai, and me. We have a few friends he would suffer for. In the end, though, he’ll only die for his family.

  And Sunny and Anika aren’t family to him yet.

  Remaining near the window, Kai watches them sleep. With their stomachs full of a second helping of the soup, they crawled in bed earlier than I expected. I smile at the sight of Anika clutching her dolls. She’s such an angelic child. Taking a bullet to protect her would be effortless.

  Trained longer in the ways of her insane people, Sunny is more difficult to adore. She is a blank slate. Her face reveals little. Yes, her eyes frequently fill with tears, but they rarely seem to fall. Can Sunny cry after so long trapped in that hellish life?

  She isn’t dead inside. I see how she cares for her daughter. And I catch her stealing glances at my brother.

  What does she see when she looks at Kai? Having inherited softer features from our mother, he lacks Papa’s massive size and roughness. Women—especially American and European tourists—swoon over his exotic good looks. When they threaten to “eat him up,” Kai just flashes them his laidback smile. They have no idea what lurks behind his beach-bum demeanor.

  Does Sunny? She watched him kill a man earlier today. The monsters at her compound possibly take lives often. She might not give murder a second thought.

  I can’t help wondering if she can see under Kai’s boyish good looks to the cold-blooded killer inside. I often forget myself, and we’ve hunted people together. Sitting at the window, Kai wears the expression of a man waiting to spill blood again soon.

  Earlier, we exchanged our license plate with one from another car in the lot. Nothing in the local or national news indicates anyone is searching for us. The sun could rise tomorrow to a world uninterested in our destination. We could drive to the safe house Papa recommended, retrieve our paperwork, and leave the United States without a single problem.

  Or those weird, vile monsters from the compound could burst through the door overnight and kill us all.

  Feeling hopeful, I fall asleep by nine-thirty and take over at the window for Kai at two. Soon, we’ll return to the road and learn if yesterday’s blood will be the last we spill in the country of our parents’ youth.

  KAI

  Long after my sister curls up in the second bed, Sunny moves soundlessly through the shadowy room. She doesn’t walk to the bathroom like I expect. Instead, she moves straight toward me at the small table.

  Sunny hesitates through several breaths before she kneels. There’s something overly deliberate about her every gesture. As if she must force herself to keep moving. Sunny’s face is stony, cold in the same way that my father looks when the past returns to his thoughts.

  When her hands reach for my zipper, I take them in mine. Our gazes meet, and I shake my head. Sunny’s a ghost even when I lift her onto my lap.

  I understand why she pretends to be the whore tonight. With those people, her body was her only thing of value. She knows I desire her and believes she owes me. Sucking my dick is a down payment for the safety I offer.

  Does she believe I will expect her child to please me too? I refuse to imagine the vile behavior she’s known in her life. My mind can’t be muddled by anger. Once in Nicaragua, I can rage to the heavens in honor of their suffering. Until we’re safely home, though, I will control my heart.

  “You should sleep,” I whisper. “In a few hours, we’ll return to the road.”

  Sunny studies my face. She doesn’t touch me, even though I sense she wants to.

  I rest her hand against my cheek. Her fingers remain passive at first. Then I press my hand against her cheek. She holds my gaze while I caress her soft skin. Mimicking me, Sunny strokes my jaw.

  Emboldened, I brush my thumb across her bottom lip. She does the same to mine.

  I smile. Again, she copies me.

  I pucker my lips. She does the same.

  I lean forward. Mimicking me, she presses her lips against mine.

  As much as I crave a deeper taste, I force my body away from hers. Sunny is slow to copy me. Even in the dimly lit room, her expression is easy to read for once. No longer attempting to leverage her body for her safety, she genuinely desires the closeness I offer.

  Wrapping my arms around her body, I guide her head against my shoulder. Sunny has no one to comfort her. Anika is only a child. Those people didn’t care for her. She’s a slip of a woman. Barely fed, only surviving, broken down, Sunny isn’t living. She’s merely existing.

  Yet I saw a light in her eyes at the roadside stand. She revealed it ag
ain in the car when worried about her daughter. And when she appeared from the bathroom with her new clothes and hair.

  Now, as Sunny rests against me, I feel the change in her breathing. She softens in my embrace, welcoming the warmth I offer.

  When we’re safe in Nicaragua, she’ll learn to know herself and ask for what she craves. Not always maybe. Mama still seems lost at times. She’ll wander the house, crying and whispering in English. As children, Neri and I watched Papa guide our mother from the darkness that she found herself trapped inside.

  I’ll do the same for Sunny and Anika.

  For tonight, I tuck her in bed next to her daughter.

  Sunny watches me as I return to my chair. I feel her, and I hope she feels me.

  The morning will be here soon, and I need a few hours of rest before faced with a long day of violent possibilities.

  SUNNY

  I leave Kai’s arms and return to bed. Anika feels my body and immediately snuggles closer. My touch was the one thing I could provide her at the homestead when others were nearby. Unable to smile or speak, I’d stroke her cheek in a way that didn’t draw attention. A little moment between us.

  But Anika was never satisfied. She clung to me, gripping my skirt as we moved from one tedious task to another. At meals, Anika was supposed to sit at my side but always wanted in my lap. I saw how the other mothers behaved with their children. Never indulging them, the women also rarely seemed overwhelmed.

  But I was always exhausted. Anika took all my energy. There was never time to rest. I always had more to do—work, prayer, submission, rapes, sermons, and more work. Only on Sundays did the council allow the flock to rest, but even then, Anika wanted my constant attention. I was never alone, never myself. Motherhood suffocated me.

  At night, I wondered about the other mothers. If they had less than three, they remained in a simple hutch. Once they gave birth to their third, they moved to the nicer communal buildings with stone floors and screened windows. Many women were eager to create as many children as possible, but I panicked at the thought of another one. How would I care for a baby along with Anika? Or two more babies. Or five?