Slave Child (Horse Guardian)

by Angela Dorsey

  “Giselle!” The musical voice came from below.

  Giselle looked down the mountain slope. “Angelica!” she called. “I am so glad you’re okay! I was worried. How did you get away?”

  Angelica climbed effortlessly up the steep incline and stroked the pony’s neck. “They did not even see me,” she answered. “But I was only able to mislead them for a short time. They are backtracking toward your trail right now. The lead man, the boss, is a good tracker and he will find it. However, the children still have a few minutes to rest.”

  “They need all they can get,” said Giselle. And so did she. Even the hard cave floor wouldn’t keep her awake for long, she knew.

  “While they are resting, there is something we must do,” continued Angelica.

  Despite her best efforts, Giselle’s shoulders sagged. She wasn’t going to get any sleep after all.

  Stop whining, she reprimanded herself. At least Angelica has a plan. That’s more useful than a bit of sleep. She patted Domi on the neck. “Okay,” she said. It was hard keeping the exhaustion from her voice. “We might as well get started.”

  It hadn’t taken long to find the trail, the right trail this time. The agent strode ahead, keeping a sharp eye out for the bewitched fibres. There were none to be found, which was good. He was fed up with wasting time, with Claude and his stupidity, with the hot day, and most of all, with the girl and her sly deceptions.

  He would keep it simple from here on out – track the children as fast and efficiently as possible, and then haul them back. There would be no more letting the guard lead. No more smoke breaks. No more following false trails. And if the golden filaments appeared again, he’d use the machete to clear their path. There’d be no more stopping for any reason until the children were under his control again. Now was the time for quick, decisive action.

  Later he’d think of revenge.

  “Inside this cave there is someone who may help us,” said Angelica. She walked to the entrance and looked inside.

  “The hermit woman?” asked Giselle, though she didn’t know for sure the woman actually was a hermit. She just couldn’t think of any other reason for someone to live alone on a mountain.

  “Yes.” Angelica looked surprised but quickly recovered. “We must ask her to show us the way we must go to cross the mountain.”

  Giselle nodded. “I hope she listens to you better than she did to me,” she said. She followed Angelica into the cave. Gray stone walls stretched back into oblivion, and Giselle felt a thrill of fear. “She’s back there?” she asked, her voice hushed.

  Angelica nodded. “She is. Keep close behind me,” she instructed. “We do not know what we will encounter.”

  “What about Domi?”

  “He will follow.”

  The cool airflow revived Giselle as they walked deeper into the cave. The tick of Domi’s hooves against the rocks was comforting as he paced along behind. Giselle stopped once to rub his forelock. He was so calm and tranquil, even in this strange place, and his quietness lent her strength. Not that the cave was that bad – but soon they would be beyond the reach of the light coming from the entrance. If only she had a lantern or a candle.

  But oddly, when the cave opening disappeared behind a corner, Giselle could still see. She didn’t understand how. There was no source of light, yet everything was subtly illuminated – almost as if light was floating within the particles of air. But that was impossible.

  The passage narrowed and twisted, went up and down hills, and they walked on and on. Dark corridors stretched away from their own path and, after a few minutes, Angelica turned down one, then detoured down another. It was a labyrinth.

  When the older girl disappeared around a bend in the passage, Giselle hurried to catch up. She rushed around the corner and almost ran into Angelica standing at the edge of a large cavern. Light streamed in through a hole in the ceiling, and a small cooking fire crackled in the center of the chamber, illuminating the man and woman perched beside it. The couple stared at them in confusion and fear.

  “We will not hurt you.” Angelica said quickly. Her voice was gentle. “Please do not be afraid.”

  Giselle waited for them to laugh. Of course she and Angelica wouldn’t hurt them. How could they? Neither of them were a match for the woman, let alone the man. But the adults didn’t laugh. In fact, they seemed frightened. “We need your help,” Giselle added, suddenly hopeful.

  Her words prodded the woman into action. She leapt to her feet and helped the man stand. Then, taking his hand, she helped him stumble out of the fire’s brightest light.

  Giselle looked at Angelica. Why wasn’t she doing anything to stop them? What if the adults escaped down one of the tunnels dotting the chamber? “Wait,” she called to the fleeing couple. “We only want to talk to you.” She took a step forward, her hand held out.

  “Go away!” the man stopped to yell back to Giselle. “Leave us alone!”

  “But I only...” started Giselle, and then stopped. The terror in the man’s eyes was disconcerting. Why was he so afraid of her? She was just a girl. She couldn’t hurt him if she tried. “But I’m not...” The man limped into the shadows and the woman followed close behind. “...going to hurt you,” finished Giselle as the adults disappeared through a dark slit in the rock wall.

  She slumped to the ground, defeated. They’d failed. Now what were they going to do? The men were coming. According to Angelica, they’d soon find the children’s trail – if they hadn’t already. They were coming closer with every second, and Giselle didn’t know where to take the children or how to help them escape. And even worse, the only people they’d met who could help them had just refused. Why? There was no reason. All they needed from the hermits was information. Where to hide. Where to find water. If there was a trail over the mountain. That was all. Yet they’d refused to even listen. Domi nuzzled Giselle’s arm, and a sob burst out, breaking the echoing silence of the cave.

  Angelica touched her shoulder. “I am sorry, Giselle,” she whispered. “But we cannot force them.”

  Giselle hiccupped. “It’s not your fault, Angelica,” she gasped, her voice loud in the stillness. “But I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t they listen to us? No one cares what happens to us. Not a single person.” Another sob. Tears sprang from her eyes. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to save the children.”

  “I thought they would listen. I am sorry,” Angelica repeated, her voice sadder than anything Giselle had ever heard.

  “No, I am sorry,” said a strange voice. Giselle and Angelica looked up to see the woman standing in the cavern again. She’d come back. “We know what it’s like to have no one care,” she continued. “We know what it’s like to be reviled and cast aside and desperate. I will listen.”

  “Thank you,” Angelica said. “With all my heart, I thank you.” She drew a deep breath. “Com, let us sit by your fire for a moment. Come, Giselle. Domi.”

  Giselle dashed away her tears and hiccupped again.

  “Would you like something to drink?” the woman asked.

  Giselle nodded, not trusting her voice yet, and walked to the fire. The woman picked up a long knife from beside the blaze and turned to grab a coconut from behind a rock. She swiftly removed the outer layers, then knocked the top off the coconut with one swing and held it out. Giselle took it gratefully. The first liquid mouthful was the best thing she’d ever tasted in her life and the second was even better. She knew she was guzzling the coconut milk, but couldn’t stop. Her body was crying out for nutrients, and the rich liquid was like nectar in her mouth. Finally, feeling slightly ashamed, she held the coconut out to Angelica.

  “You finish it,” said the golden girl. “I am not thirsty.”

  Giselle needed no more encouragement and a few seconds later the coconut milk was gone. She wiped her mouth and looked at the woman. “Thanks,” she said, and hoped her voice portrayed how grateful she was.

  The woman nodded and sank to the ground beside the
fire. The firelight flashed across her face, heightening the whites of her eyes. “My name is Maura,” she said.

  Angelica introduced herself and Giselle, and then asked, “What of your companion?” She indicated the dark passageway behind the woman. “Will he not join us?”

  “His name is Thierry, and he is my husband. He won’t join us yet. He wants me to tell you his story first.”

  “Why?” Giselle couldn’t help but ask. Was there something wrong with him? She remembered how he’d limped when he left the fire.

  “Because, once you know more about us, you may reject our help,” Maura said simply.

  Giselle laughed. The statement was so ridiculous. “No way,” she said. “You have no idea who’s after us. Restavec agents. They’re catching up to us right now, and we can’t escape without help. We have no food, no water. The littlest kids are totally exhausted, and we don’t know where to go. We’re beyond desperate.”

  The woman raised her eyebrows. Then the worst thing she could possibly say came from her mouth. “And in order to escape your agents, Giselle, would you accept the help of a zombie?”

  They were making excellent time. The trail was fresh. They were only a short distance behind the restavecs now, the man was sure. The brats were moving slowly. He could see where small feet dragged in the dirt. They must almost be ready to drop with exhaustion.

  Not that he was full of energy himself. The sun was directly overhead, burning down on them, sapping their energy. Claude kept falling behind, only catching up when the agent stopped to examine the tracks.

  But he wasn’t going to stop. He’d made a commitment to keep going until they had the kids back, and even if he had to leave Claude behind, he was sticking to it.

  Giselle leapt to her feet. Maura was a zombie? But how could she be? She looked normal. She might be overly thin, but other than that, she looked like an average woman. So it must be the man, Thierry. Her eyes searched the dark crevice. Was he watching them from the darkness, thinking evil thoughts? Laying a vicious trap for them?

  “Giselle, sit down,” Angelica said gently. “There is nothing to fear here.”

  “But...”

  “Sit down.”

  “He will not hurt you. I swear,” added Maura. “He was a zombie, it is true, but he will not hurt you. We can help you hide from your agents. But first, you must accept us.”

  Domi nickered behind her, and Giselle’s arms encircled his neck. She laid her head against his warm hair and his heartbeat swelled to fill her mind. His heart rate was slow and steady. Domi wasn’t afraid. Giselle looked at Angelica. Neither was she.

  “Please, Giselle, we must listen,” said Angelica. “Remember we are running out of time.”

  Slowly, hesitantly, Giselle nodded and lowered herself to sit on the ground, this time a little farther from the woman.

  Maura sighed and clasped her hands in front of her. “You’ve probably heard the stories of what zombies are, that they’re the dead brought back to life. I thought the same too, for years, but that isn’t the truth. They don’t die, though their loved ones believe they do. Instead, they’re drugged. It’s a powerful drug, made from blowfish and other poisonous creatures and plants – and from bones.” She paused for a moment and shuddered, despite the warmth of the fire.

  “It’s made by voodoo priests and anyone can buy it, if they have enough money. In Thierry’s case, his brother wanted his land. He must have used his life savings to buy the poisonous powder. He sprinkled it into Thierry’s shoes, and when the poison soaked in through his feet, Thierry became sick. He became so sick that he eventually fell into a deep, deep coma that made him appear dead. And that is what we all thought – that Thierry had died. Even the doctor was fooled.”

  She paused and looked toward the dark crevice. “And worse, I was fooled,” she said softly. “I was broken-hearted when Thierry died. It was right after we married. We buried him, or thought we did, and…it was terrible.” Emotion choked her voice and silence engulfed the cave.

  Giselle gasped as the man limped from the shadows. Her first impulse was to jump up and run away before it was too late, before he had them in his clutches, but something in his dark eyes stopped her – sorrow. Scars crisscrossed his body, and with every step, his leg twisted outward, as if it had fractured and then healed crookedly.

  He isn’t a monster, Giselle realized. He’s just a sad, broken-spirited man.

  When he reached his wife, Thierry lowered himself awkwardly to the ground. “My brother put sandbags into the coffin and everyone thought I had been buried,” he said, continuing the tale. “But instead I was sold to an evil man who beat me and forced me to work in his sugar plantations far away. I was a slave there for years with many others. None of us were even aware of our situation because the overseers kept putting mind-numbing drugs into our food to keep us docile. So we worked. For years all we did was work. Unaware. Uncaring. I would have been there until I died, like so many before me, if a miracle hadn’t happened.”

  Maura explained. “His leg was broken in an accident, and the plantation owner didn’t want him anymore. He threw Thierry off his land, and without the steady dose of drugs, Thierry came back to his right mind. He remembered me. And when he could walk, he came home.”

  Thierry continued the story. “The problem was that no one wanted me there but Maura. Once a zombie, always a zombie, in their minds. They threatened us. Maura was fired from her job as a schoolteacher. No one would hire me to work. When they burned down our house, we knew we had to leave,” he said. “And so we came here. We’ve lived on the mountain for two years now, suffering cold and hunger, heat and more hunger, just because my neighbours were afraid and superstitious. Just because they were narrow-minded.”

  Giselle shifted her eyes to look into the fire. Before today, she was one of those people. If she’d been one of Thierry’s neighbours, she wouldn’t have been mean to him, but she would’ve desperately wanted him to leave.

  But I was wrong. She looked at the man sitting across the fire from her. He wrung his hands together as he stared into the flames. He was abused and trapped, thought Giselle. Being a zombie is kind of like being a restavec, except they’re drugged so they have no idea they’re really slaves. And they have no hope of rescue because the people who love them think they’re dead. How horrible!

  “So do you want our help?” Maura asked.

  Giselle looked up. All three of her companions were gazing at her, and she could almost feel Domi looking at her from behind, waiting for her answer. “Yes,” she said, without another moment’s hesitation, and then to emphasize her answer, she repeated, “Yes. Yes, please.”

  The afternoon was becoming unbearable. The sun blasted them from above, and heat rose shimmering from the earth. The agent didn’t know how much longer he could stand it.

  The children will probably be resting, he reasoned, half desperate. They wouldn’t walk through the hottest part of the day, not when they’re so tired. Maybe we can stop for a few minutes. Have a short breather.

  He looked up the slope. There were two caves on the bluff above that would be cool, and it would take only minutes to hike up to them. Or even better, they could rest beneath those nearby coconut trees. It would be shady and cool enough beneath the branches, and maybe they could even find a coconut or two. He could use a refreshing drink right about now.

  And then, if Claude fell asleep, he’d sneak away for a couple minutes and eat some of the jerky he’d put in his pocket yesterday. There was no point in sharing. After all, he was doing most of the work, and he was the one who’d had the foresight to carry a bit of food with him. Claude didn’t deserve any.

  Giselle started back the way she and Angelica had come, but Maura stopped her. She shook her head. “No, not that way. Follow me. I know a faster way.”

  “You know where they are?” asked Giselle as Thierry bent to pick up two burning sticks from the fire.

  “I’ve been watching all of you,” Maura said. “There’
s a passage leading into the cave where they’re sleeping. We’ll bring them back here, and then Thierry and I will lead you through the caves. Your pursuers won’t follow us far. They’ll be afraid of being lost in the darkness.” She took the burning sticks from Thierry and handed one to Giselle. “So you can see,” she explained.

  Thierry handed a third stick to Angelica. “Are you not coming with us?” asked the golden-haired girl.

  Thierry shook his head. “I can’t,” he said. “You must hurry and I’ll slow you down too much. And there’s one place I can’t cross.”

  “What about Domi?” asked Giselle as she stroked the silver mane. “Can he cross?”

  “No. He can stay here with me.”

  Giselle looked at Angelica to see her nod to the man. Apparently, she completely trusted Thierry with the pony.

  “Let’s go,” said Maura. She started toward the back of the cave. Angelica was right behind her, but Giselle hesitated beside Domi.

  “I’ll take good care of him,” said Thierry gently. “Don’t worry.”

  Giselle searched his face. There was still no malice there that she could see. No ill will. “Okay,” she said and patted Domi one more time. “I’ll be back soon, buddy.”

  Maura paused before entering the crevice. “This is a dangerous cavern, so be careful where you step,” she warned, then added as an afterthought, “And don’t be startled by the cave spiders.”

  Great, thought Giselle. Something else out to get us. But the thought didn’t make her as afraid as it would have yesterday. She’d already faced worst things than cave spiders and survived.

  Without hesitation, she followed Maura and Angelica into the passage.

  The man stood and stretched. Their rest had been short, but he already felt rejuvenated. “Let’s go,” he said gruffly, and kicked Claude in the leg. Then he smiled and kicked again.