“Did you not hear the explosion?” asked Robert.
“Yeah, we heard it,” said the one that appeared to be the leader of the little group. “We was just headin’ back to find out what happened. Seems like we oughta take you with us. Pig’ll appreciate your account of the noise.”
“No, no, that’s okay,” said Robert, “I should be taking my wife home to wrap her ankle before it swells too much.”
“I wasn’t askin’.” The man pulled out a gun and pointed it at us. The other three did the same. Barker whined and I turned to him quickly, hoping he’d keep quiet. “Hey, look, a dog! How cute. We can take him with us. Pig loves fresh dog meat.”
‘Again with the dog eating,’ I thought. ‘What’s with these people?’
“He’s mine and I would appreciate it if you left him alone,” I said, trying to keep my anger inside.
“Really?” said the first man. “And just who the hell are you?”
“This is Nicole,” jumped in Robert. He could see my anger and didn’t want me to lose it. I wasn’t going to; I could see that we were outnumbered. I would be stupid to do something, well, stupid. “She’s a friend.”
“A friend, huh?” He looked me up and down. “Never seen her before. Looks like a newcomer to me. Pig’s gonna like that.”
“She’s not a...” began Robert but I saw no point in lying. They were all going to know that I was new.
“...a good friend,” I said. “We just met, actually. I wandered into the woods and met them picking strawberries.”
“Where are they?” asked one of the other men.
“Pardon?” asked Madge.
“The strawberries,” he said. “I could use a bit to eat.”
“We, uh, must have dropped them,” said Robert. “You know, it’s hard to carry strawberries and help my wife walk. Her ankle is really starting to swell; we should get her home.”
“I told ya, yer comin’ with us to see Pig.” The man reached down and smacked Robert in the side of his face with the end of his gun, knocking his glasses off. It took us all by surprise and I literally had to hold Barker back as he started that low growl in his throat. Robert quickly reached down and picked up his glasses and put them in his pocket. “Now, enough talkin’. Let’s go and if that dog so much as looks at me funny I’ll shoot it myself.”
There was no choice, we had to go. They led us back through the trees, two in front and two behind us. We tried to keep their pace but Madge was finding it hard. Twice she stumbled and was poked roughly in her back. I helped her up once and Robert helped her the next time. His eye had swollen shut now and I could see a huge bruise forming on his cheek. Madge put her arms around each of our shoulders and we huddled together. Barker stayed close but I wished he would run away; he would be safe if he ran away.
“If we get there, they’re going to recognize me as one of the negotiators from earlier,” whispered Robert. “I don’t think we’ll have much chance to plead ignorance. We must make a plan to escape.”
“Escape?” I said. “That seems pretty slim right now. Where did Marshal and Billy go?”
“I don’t think we can rely on those two,” said Madge. “I think they’re more interested in savin’ their own hides right now.”
“You’re wrong,” I said. “I don’t think Marshal would abandon us.” I felt something hard jab my shoulder.
“Shut up and keep walkin’.” One of the men said as he pushed me forward. Barker growled again and I reached down and pat his head.
We got to Pig’s camp about fifteen minutes later. It was bigger and more organized than I thought it would be. There were no wooden structures here; instead, they had set up tents and nestled them in the trees. The tents were newer ones, too; I could tell by their styles and colour. Older tents seemed to fade with the elements; these were still bright and crisp. They were probably salvaged from the stores before the winds came. It was June when the 360 hit and the stores were full of camping stuff. They varied in size; some sleeping over six people and others were like Cornelius’ and slept only one or two. I figured there were over a dozen tents, so there must be at least thirty people or more. Whatever the number, it didn’t look good for us.
I could see that each tent had their own small fire pit set outside but there was also a huge, communal fire pit in the center of camp with logs set up around it like benches. I assumed they had nightly meetings here. How sweet, I thought, toast marshmallows as you plan to dehydrate the land and starve the people.
I looked around and noticed a variety of fish and skinned animals hanging from lines that were pulled between trees. There were fur pelts piled by a huge rock and I could see various tools that I assumed were used for skinning and tanning the hides. I looked at Barker and felt my stomach wrench. I knew they would want him to join their collection and, again, I found myself wishing he would just take off and hide in the woods.
Our captors dismounted from their horses and tethered them to a log rail alongside a couple of tan coloured mares that were drinking from a water trough and swishing their blond tails back and forth. They led us to the center of camp, not far from the big fire pit, and looked at each other questioningly. There seemed to be no people around and they couldn’t figure out why. We knew a search party had probably been sent out to find whoever had blown the dam. These men had no clue that their fearless leader was dead. Maybe we could overtake them in their confusion. I searched Robert’s face and realized he must have been thinking the same thing. The only problem was Madge. Her foot was so bad now it would be impossible for her to run. I could get a horse! She could get on a horse and ride away! That would work. I directed my eyes to the group of horses, hoping Robert would get my idea. He followed my gaze and smiled. He understood.
“Where is everyone, Doug?” asked the man who had poked me in the back with his gun.
“Don’t know,” answered Doug. “Gotta be someone around.”
“Hey! What the hell’s goin’ on out there?” The words came from the biggest tent. The flap unzipped and, one by one, four people emerged. There was a woman with long, shaggy black hair, two men who looked very much like the men who had led us here and a small girl of about eight or nine. The girl was the one who drew my attention. She looked so tiny and frail. She had on a white dress or, at least it had been white at one time, now it was scuffed with mud and food. Her hair was blond and just as shaggy as the woman’s and I wondered when the last time a brush had been pulled through it. She had big brown eyes and looked like a scared little mouse. She was holding a frying pan in one hand and a fork in the other. It was obvious that she was about to cook something. God, they must be using her as their tiny little slave and the thought of it made me sick. If we made a run for it, I would take her with us.
“Pig’s dead,” said the black haired woman as she tried to hold back a sob. Obviously she cared about Pig very much. Perhaps she was his girlfriend.
“Dead?” This took our captor by surprise. He stumbled back and ran his hand through his greasy hair. “How? What happened?”
“Shot,” one of the men filled in, “shot through the head. We don’t know who dun it.”
“It had to be Marshal,” the woman cried. “He’s been planning this for a long time.”
“Marshal?” said the guy called Doug. “Marshal was here?”
“Yeah, him and some of those crazy valley people,” said the woman. “Came to talk ‘bout the river.”
“Jesus,” said Doug, trying to grasp what it all meant. “Where’s Marshal now?”
“Ran like the coward he is.” Then the woman seemed to notice us for the first time. “Who’s all these...wait a minute,” she came closer, studying Robert with narrowed eyes. “That’s one of ‘em!” She pointed at him and I felt my stomach drop. We had to get out of here, now!
“One of who?” Doug turned to our group.
“That man, he was with Marshal,” she said, still pointing her dirty finger at him. I winced at the stench of her. My God, how long h
ad it been since she bathed? I’ve never known a person to smell so bad. She got right in Robert’s face and he pulled back away from her smell. “Yep, he’s one of ‘em all right. Where’d you find him?”
“At the edge, claimed he was pickin’ strawberries,” said Doug.
“Who killed him?!” I could see the anger in her eyes as she yelled her questions at Robert. “Which one of you valley trash killed my man?!”
“I can assure you, ma’am, I had nothing to do with the murder of ‘your man’,” Robert said calmly.
“Liar!” She spat at him and slapped his face. His head snapped to the side and I could see a fresh cut on his lip.
“You ugly bitch,” screamed Madge as she lunged for the woman. “You leave my husband alone!” Two of the men grabbed her before she could reach the woman and threw her to the ground. She hit her head on one of the logs and went still.
That was it. I couldn’t just stand there and let them manhandle my friends. If any of us were going to escape and get help, I had to act fast. I jumped in and pulled one of the grimy men by the hair. I cringed at how oily it felt in my hand but I was mad and cast my queasiness aside. He turned to face me and I didn’t give him any time to react. I spent eight years of my childhood in judo and I knew how to throw a man and put him down. So I hooked my foot behind his calf and pushed with as much strength as my five foot four, hundred pound body would give and flung him to the ground. Then I nuzzled my heel in his armpit and grabbed his arm in an arm lock and twisted it until I heard a crunch and a shriek and knew I had broken it. Good for me. Maybe I could get away while...someone grabbed me from behind and I felt myself being lifted into the air. I started kicking my feet and twisting my body to break free but it was useless. I felt a rope wrap around my arms and before I knew it, I was pushed back to the ground where I couldn’t move.
“Bitch broke my arm!” My victim was squirming beside me whining like a baby and I smiled. At least I got one of them. “Kill her!”
“Calm down Weasel. You let a woman get the best of you; you’re lucky if I don’t kill you.” I was face down but I knew the voice that just spoke was a new one. It was strong and had a thick Scottish lilt to it. I struggled to my knees so I could see who it was and was surprised to see a group of men that had not been there before. I looked over to Robert and Madge; they were both lying on the ground. Robert must have gotten into his own scuffle while I broke the whiner’s arm. They weren’t moving and I felt panic run through my body. Were they dead? Then Robert moaned and I sighed with relief. They were just unconscious. Barker? Where was Barker? I jumped to my feet, adrenaline filling my veins.
“I think it best you keep still,” the voice again. I turned, ready to spit in his face but stopped myself, surprised by what I saw. He was young, twenty maybe, and stood about six feet tall. He wore dark jeans, black boots, a white shirt and a long, dark brown leather coat that came just below his knees. He looked strong and I felt a chill run down my spine. He would be able to beat me, I thought. He had black hair and blue eyes and his gaze pierced through me like a knife. “If you struggle, the ropes will only pull tighter.”
“What do you care?” I spat out at him.
“I don’t,” he smiled and it made me even angrier. “I was just tryin’ to be helpful.”
“Where’s my dog?” I looked around the camp and couldn’t see Barker anywhere.
“The mutt?” The man asked. “He ran as soon as we came. Were you relyin’ on him to save you?”
“Ran away?” I felt myself shudder with relief. I wanted Barker to get away. I knew what these men would do to him if he stayed.
“Take these two to the red tent,” the man ordered and I knew that Robert had been wrong. There was a replacement for Pig after all. “I want to question our friend, here, myself. Oh, and help Weasel set his arm.”
“I’m not your friend,” I said. He laughed and I tried hard not to look at how attractive it made his face look.
“I like you. You have spunk. That’s been sorely lacking around here for a long time.”
“Go to hell!” I wanted to hurt him. His cheeky smile and casual attitude made me so angry.
“I’m already there sweetheart,” he smiled at me and tried to help me stand straight, the ropes were beginning to burn my arms. I shook him off and stood on my own. He put his arms up in surrender. “I was only going to loosen the ropes but if you don’t want me to...”
“If you take them off completely, I’ll be real still,” I smiled at him innocently, thinking that I’d be still until I saw my opportunity to kill him. I could still feel the gun in the back of my jeans.
“I just bet you will.” He reached his arms around me and I felt my heart begin to pound. It infuriated me. He pulled the gun out.
‘Shit,’ I thought.
“I’ll take this. It was doing nothing for your arse.”
“You can keep your eyes off my arse,” I hissed at him. He laughed again and I wanted to rip his eyes out.
“I bet you’re real happy Pig is gone,” he said. “He wasn’t a very nice man, but you already knew that, didn’t you? Isn’t that why you killed him?”
“And you are?” I asked, ignoring his question.
“Maxwell,” he said, “and don’t be avoiding the question.”
“Well, Max, I don’t give a shit if Pig is dead or alive.” He winced at my deliberate shortening of his name. “I just want the river to run again. You can’t just block it up like that and expect us to be quiet about it. We need water too, you know.”
“Such strong talk for such a delicate thing,” he laughed and I felt my cheeks burn. “Where do you come from?”
“What do you mean-where do I come from?” I knew what he was getting at. “Obviously I come from the same place as everyone else-the other world, or real world or whatever you want to call the world that dumped me here. I come from up there.” I looked to the sky and Max smiled.
“You’re a newcomer, aren’t you?” He shook his head and laughed. “I should have known.”
“You gonna kill me now, Max? Isn’t that what all you idiots like to do down here; kill newcomers?” I said sarcastically.
“My goodness, your tongue is sharp. No, I’m not going to kill you...yet,” he said. “I think I’ll let you live a while longer as long as you answer my questions.”
“Let me?” I looked down at the ropes wrapped around me. “My, aren’t you kind.”
“More than you would know,” he laughed and pulled out a huge knife from the inside of his boot.
“Which pirate did you steal those boots from?” I asked.
“This footwear belongs to me fare and square,” he said angrily. Obviously I had hit a nerve. “Now, I will cut these ropes only if you agree to keep still and not try to slit my throat or run for the trees.”
“I promise,” I said. “You took my only weapon and I would never run away and abandon my friends. That would be a pretty shitty thing to do.”
“You are honourable if not wise.” Everything he said made me so mad yet I had to bite my tongue and at least try to be civil. I wanted to learn more about the camp because the more I knew the easier it would be for me to escape. My best move right now would be to hold my temper. “Newcomers are usually more afraid than you appear to be. They’re confused when they come down here and obedience is always easy to teach them. You, on the other hand, seem to be a creature very different from what we’re used to.”
“Really,” sarcasm again, I couldn’t help it, “and you’ve been down here so long that you’ve encountered lots of newcomers?”
“I’ve met a few.”
“Well, I guess I’m just different. I don’t like to be told what to do,” I said.
“I can see that,” he said. “You know, such boldness in a woman can be quite unattractive to some.”
“Oh, gee, I’m crushed,” I said, and rolled my eyes. “I’m so unappealing what will I ever do? Like there’s anyone here that I want to attract.”
�
��I said some would find it unattractive.” He lifted the side of his mouth in a sneer and I blushed despite myself.
“Yeah, well, let’s just say I’m not afraid to stick up for myself and speak my mind,” I said trying not to meet his eyes.
“Do women do that a lot nowadays?” I nodded. “Things have changed since I fell. Women used to know their place.”
“What?” This statement infuriated me as it would any modern woman who wanted to be treated equally to men. He laughed and started cutting the ropes away from my wrists. “Their place? What is that supposed to mean? How medieval is that?”
“I didn’t say it was right,” he explained. “I just said women kept their mouths shut when they knew their lives depended on it; men too for that matter. Tell me, are you not afraid I’ll slit your throat for your insolence towards me?” He held the knife close to my face and I felt his breath as he spoke.
“No,” I gulped, trying to sound confident, “if you had wanted to kill me, you would have done it by now. You want information from me and you’ll keep me alive long enough to retrieve it.”
“Smart,” he smiled and put the knife away. “You understand how this works. So, give me what I want. Tell me who killed Pig.”
“If I do that, you’ll kill me,” I smiled back at him, “and, as much as I hate it here, I don’t really want to die.”
“Well, then, I guess we’re at a standstill. What do you propose we do now?” He studied me and I stuck my chin out defiantly. I was not going to let him intimidate me.
“I’m hungry. Got any food?” I thought he was going bring out his knife again. Of all the things I could have said, this seemed to surprise him the most and I couldn’t tell if he wanted to kill me or laugh at me.
“Food?” he finally asked. “That’s what’s on your mind? I have your friends imprisoned, a knife ready to thrust into your heart and the marks on your wrists are still warm from the ropes lying at your feet and you want to fill your stomach.”
“What can I say? Being pushed through the woods by men who look like they just fell off the homeless train, shoved into this camp from hell, fighting for my life and all this stimulating conversation, yeah, I’m a little hungry. What ya got?” I looked at him and waited for his answer.
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