Evangeline, Alone. (Book 1): Evangeline, Alone

by Styles, M. A.

  She went to look over at him on the ground, but when she turned he was standing above her, a look of anger on his once apathetic face. He wound up and punched her in the face. She felt the pain and heard the mournful cries from the women behind her as they seemingly lost all hope. Then it went black again.

  This time it wasn’t motion that woke her, it was touch. The rough yanks and shoves jostled her back into consciousness, but the first thing to revive in her was her hearing.

  “It’s not gonna be much. Just enough to put her back in her place. Give her a little understanding of her role here,” the deep voiced man stated.

  Her head was lulled forward. Her chin was against her chest, laying on her bare collar bones where there should've been clothing. She was propped up. Her hands were hanging above her head; the chain hooked on something on the wall. She could feel air on parts of her chest and inner thighs, but she still felt her clothes were still on in some manner, just not as they were meant to be.

  “It’s stupid. And we’re all going to get penalized for it. This is the candidate,” Logan, said from far away.

  "Well,” the deep voiced man said as she felt him pull at the inseam of her pants, tearing her pants further. He must not have been able to untie her rope belt and knew it would take too long to cut through. She could smell his breath as he knelt in front of her, whiskey and decay. "Agree to disagree."

  Her skin almost stung as his fingers grazed here and there while he worked. She had to fight the innate urge to recoil from it, but she needed them to believe she was still unconscious. She felt her flannel shirt being tugged roughly to the side.

  "Damnit," the man mumbled under his breath. Then she felt her chain being yanked on, and made sure to keep her arms lifeless. Suddenly they were dropped in her lap. He started tugging at her shirt. Buttons popping off and seams ripped as it was pulled down her shoulder more than it was already hanging off. She felt cool air down to her sternum now, but felt her under shirt and bra were still on to some effect. He must have ripped her shirt too. He began to tug and twist the shoulder he exposed of her left arm.

  "So you're not only going to fuck her up, you're going to brand her too. You're a fucking idiot. We're all going to go down for this. None of this is your call!" Logan sounded extremely agitated.

  "Shut the fuck up, Hart. If you’re so certain she's exactly what he's looking for, then handing her to him at all should please the prick."

  "That isn't something he does to everyone he takes! It's supposed to be an honor that he gives. They beg for it. It's for the privileged. You're going to get the shit kicked out of you at best when he sees you're doing things in his name, by your own hand."

  "Shut up," he whined. “I’m sick of hearing your fucking voice. If you don't like it so much, I don't see you leaving."

  Silence. He scoffed and went back to working on her arm. She felt one hand leave her while the other held firmly just above her elbow. Then there was the sound of something clicking into place. She knew the sound well, and braced herself.

  "Are you fucking serious! You're going to do it like that?" A tinge of panic was now in Logan's voice, and she found it odd.

  She heard the other man, Randy, let a shaky sigh out off to the side of her. He was close. A yard away at best.

  “We have to make do with what we have," the deep voiced man said almost preachily. She felt his grip tighten, and he pulled her arm towards him just a bit more.

  He did it fairly fast at least. The slice was straight across, and the blade was sharp, but once she felt it, she knew exactly where his hand was holding it. She was going to have to move as quickly as she could, and hope she was faster to finish than her body was to shut down.

  The blood had just started to drip down her bicep when she jolted up, grabbing the hand with the switch blade and twisting it just the right way to snap it at the wrist. Her chains jangled with her movements. Before the deep voiced man could stumble backwards and fall over his chair grabbing his forearm, she had easily taken the blade from his now dangling hand as well as the .45 from his belt and aimed it in the direction of Logan's voice. He stood in the corner by a bed, and she fired rapidly at his legs, hoping to hit his knees, but unable to aim well from her injuries. Her one eye was already swollen from Randy's punch, and the fierce pain in her skull was graying her vision. Logan went down crying out in pain. Wherever she ended up hitting him, it did the job. She quickly turned to the other side as Randy only had enough time to curse in surprise, and stand up from his seat before she swung in one clean motion, slicing his throat with the switch blade. His blood sprayed over her face and chest, the walls and furniture, and she was back in Logan’s direction before Randy even dropped to the ground.

  She kept him in her sight as she stepped towards the deep voiced man writhing around, holding his wrist, down on his knees. She tossed the gun back towards the door leading out into the main room of the cabin, her chain clinking as she did it. She still clutched the knife and stared at Logan whose eyes were wide open on her, his body shaking as he held one leg.

  "Fuck you, bitch! You're going to pay-" Before the deep voiced man could even finished she was on him. She moved her arms so fast it took a moment for Logan to realize what was happening. She had the four feet of chain to her shackles wrapped around his neck, her foot pushing off of the deep voiced man’s chest. His hands, one limp and one working, clawed at his throat, and she stood swaying a little as the activity caught up to her. As her vision faded in and out, she kept staring at Logan down in the corner. Even when the deep voiced man twitched and slumped back, his hands falling away, she didn't look away from him. She gave a flick with her arm to unwrap her chain from his neck and kicked off from him, his body dropping backward to the ground. For a moment she thought she was going to go down too, but she fought and staggered a bit closer to him.

  She still gripped the switch blade in her hand, and she raised it up as she caught her breath, still looking Logan in the eye. He couldn't look away or blink. He was already turning white from blood loss and shock, but she made sure he watched. She cocked her head to the side as she took the blade to her arm and made another cut under the other one. She did it slowly, a little shudder going through her as she fought the pain, but this pain kept her conscious. When she was done, she steadied herself on the wall where she had been hanging by her wrists.

  Her breathing was heaving from the exertion and adrenaline, but she looked at the two bloody lines on her arm, like an uneven equal sign. She leaned towards him with a wicked smile on her face, making sure to pronounce the words through the gag. "Two down." Then she turned around and picked up the gun she had tossed away a moment ago.

  Logan watched her and tried to shield himself, but she picked it up, careful not to bend down too far and let the blood rush to her head. Then she simply turned and sat back down where they had her before. He was now shaking so hard she was pretty sure she could hear his teeth rattling. She stretched her legs out, and slightly put her head back against the wall, careful not to lean on the large, hard and tender lump that had formed. No blood this time. And she closed her eyes to rest. After a moment she heard him scuffling around like a rodent over in the corner. She slowly opened her eyes and set her head back down, looking over at him.

  She clicked her tongue at him as she waved the gun back and forth pointing in the air, but it was enough to make him freeze where he was. He dragged himself back on his ass to lean against the bed again, letting out a sad whimper.

  “I wasn’t going to let them kill you,“ he insisted.

  “Like that’s the worst thing they could do, right?” her voice unemotional.

  “Ev-,” he started to plead, and she cut him off so fast with a terrifying look of pure hatred.

  She put her feet out and set her head gently back again, and hoped that he would last until the two turned.

  In the main room, when they had dragged Evie into the back, they had chained the other women to the wall. Thankfully the loops were se
t low so they could sit with their arms down. Anna was in between the two women, still rocking and whimpering. When the men all went into the back room, Cara and Laila gave each other a look of hopelessness. Laila shuffled over as far as she could towards Anna and reached out, just barely touching her foot, and tried to rub it comfortingly. Laila watched, and then looked up at the ceiling, her eyes welling up until one drop rolled out of the corner of her eye.

  They sat slumped against the wall on the ground for who knows how long. The minutes were torture, waiting to be abused and violated, given off to who knows who if they survived. For what, they didn’t know for sure, but it wasn’t too hard to assume.

  They could hear the men’s voices reverberating in their bass tones from the other room when they dragged Evie away. At one point it sounded like they were arguing. Then there were terrifying screams of pain that made them all curl up into tight balls and let out distraught whimpers, until they realized it was coming from the men. They heard gun shots, and more screams, then finally thuds. Cara looked at Laila, the hope back in their faces. And they waited again. The ray of light from the sun through the lone window in the room was now a totally different shape and angle than when they first arrived. It fell silent for a very long time, and Cara started to fear that though the men were dead, Evie didn't make it either. They would rot there, and who ever went first would take out the others. Now it seemed waiting for that was almost worse.

  A little later as the silence continued to fill the cabin, a tiny noise from the front door got their attention. Laila sat up straight and watched the doorknob turning slowly until it was unlatched and released from the doorway. Laila turned back to Cara, and it suddenly whipped open. Joe and Nate stormed in guns drawn, just like they were trained. Jack followed behind, not as well versed, but competent.

  The women started to yell for them. Nate was first over, examining their shackles and taking the gags out of their mouths. Laila told Joe to grab the keys hanging on the far wall where they watched the one man, Randy, hang them up.

  Jack kneeled down next to Cara, and helped her untangle her arms and stand. "Where's Evie?" he asked.

  The whole group suddenly stopped what they were doing. The men from the block looked around the cabin as if they simply missed her in the corner. Cara looked to Laila, who was holding a freed and sobbing Anna on the ground.

  "They took her into the other room," Laila said, nodding her head over to it.

  They got their guns ready again and started for it.

  "I wouldn't worry about all that," Cara said, and they looked back puzzled. "From what we heard, I'd say she took care of it."

  The men relaxed a little knowing what that probably meant when talking about Evie, but Jack was the first to look at her, waiting to hear why she wasn't with them then.

  "But it was a while ago, and she hasn't come back out," Cara finished.

  Nate hung his head a bit, and Joe rubbed at his chin looking away.

  Jack took a deep breath. "Ok.” He walked to the door, gun in hand, but not as geared up as before.

  Slowly he turned the knob. Nate and Joe stood behind him, prepared to jump in if need be. The door creaked loudly on rusted hinges as he pushed it into the room. First he saw a man a few feet in, lying in a pool of blood. A bigger man was further over, lifeless and purple. Jack was about to walk in when he noticed movement in the back corner, and looked over to see a man injured badly, slumped against a bed. Jack’s brow furrowed in confusion. The man’s eyes flicked to Jack then over to the wall, and back again. Jack looked at Joe and Nate who were now peering over his head at the man. Jack stuck his head through the small opening of the door and around the frame.

  Evie sat there staring at the man on the floor, unmoving. Judging by the state of her, he thought they had killed her, and she had turned. But then she made a sound through the gag she was still wearing that sounded like a shh. She lifted her hand weakly, her chains jangling together, and she reached over towards him with a gun, and used it to push the door closed again. Before it shut, he could've sworn he saw the first man, in all that blood by the door, start to move.

  They looked back into the room, and the women were now standing at the front door. They had collected their weapons from off the filthy kitchen counter where they were tossed upon arrival. They were ready to get the hell out of there, but they all looked at each other, not willing to just up and leave her.

  Joe put his hand on Jack’s shoulder, and turned him to the door too. "We'll wait for her out there, man."

  "Come on Jack," Cara said, shaking her head in agreement with Joe and opening the door without hesitation, walking out.

  "Take the keys with you," Jack said to Nate.

  He held them up to show he still had them and then put them in the front pocket of his worn army shirt. They followed the girls out, leaving the front door open. Laila was putting Anna in the back of the Jeep, when they heard the screaming from the cabin. It went on for bit. Anna held her ears and cried while Laila held her. Eventually it faded away, and they all looked at each other, then back at the open front door of the run down hunting cabin. Another minute passed when suddenly three shots rang out one by one. They all waited. They heard the sound of the squeaky hinges coming from inside. Jack started to walk to the front door, but his legs stopped working when she walked out.

  There was blood all over her. One eye was swollen shut, already an angry red turning to purple. The rag was still tied around her face, gagging her. Her clothes looked ripped from her body, which was covered in a strange mud of dirt and blood. One of her arms was exposed out of the half on shirt, three cuts across the top of it. The bottom cut was bleeding heavily and fresh. She was walking like she was already gone. She wandered, not looking at any of them, completely unfocused. Her arms still shackled, the length of heavy chain swung in front of her. Her legs were giving out as she walked, making her wobble and stumble until they finally went out from under her all together, and she fell to her knees in the over grown clearing. Her head swayed back and forth.

  Jack started to go to her, but Cara ran past him. The first thing she did was untie her gag, a red indentation left around her face from it. Blood spray splash around it like the fabric was a stencil, making the clean strip of skin around her face stand out more.

  "We need to get her back. Now!" Cara was looking into her open eye, its pupil contracting bigger, then smaller, bigger, then smaller, not focusing on any of them.

  Nate ran over with the keys in his hand and knelt in front of her, gently taking each of her wrists and releasing her from the shackles. He looked up at her once when he was done, and his face crumpled.

  "Thanks, Nate," Cara said to him, patting him on the back gently. "Let's get into the cars."

  He sniffled and moved his eyes around a bit to try and stop the chance of a tear letting loose. "Yeah, ok." He stood up and looked down at Evie, and his breath shook out. He quickly turned away and headed back to the Jeep.

  "Evie," Cara said softly. "We gotta go. Come on now. Up.” She tried to pull her to her feet, but Joe yelled for her as he made his way over.

  "Hold on," he said and put his jacket over Evie’s shoulders. "I got her." He put his hands gently under her arms, and slowly stood her up, not letting go until he thought she was steady.

  "There you go," Cara said as she put her arm around her and walked her to the car.

  Joe stayed behind and watched as they went. He rubbed his face again and looked around at the sky. When they got to Jack, he went to her other side and put his arm around her. Anna cried out, jumping out of the backseat of the car.

  "Evie!" she ran and flung herself at her, wrapping her arms around her waist, almost knocking her down.

  "Anna," Laila said, running up behind her and pulling her away.

  "She saved me. She saved me.” She turned to Laila then to Evie and everyone else. Tears were streaming down her face. "They were going to take me."

  "Jesus Christ," Nate mumbled, and he walked to
the Jeep shaking his head.

  "I know sweetheart," Laila said gently. “But we have to get her back home. She needs our help now."

  She gave an enthusiastic shake of her head and ran to the backseat, holding the door open as they led Evie in and sat her inside. Anna quickly slid in next to her and rested her head on her uncut shoulder, putting her arms around her again. Evie sat unmoving, looking straight ahead with half closed eyes.

  They all looked at each other, and Laila closed the door and turned back to them. "Let's get the fuck out of here. I'm not looking to make these incidents a trifecta for me."

  "Do you know where we're going?" Joe asked.

  "Yeah, I think so. We just have to get back to that main highway, and I've got it from there," Jack answered.

  "Then let's go," Cara said, turning back to the sedan and climbing in, Joe and Laila right behind her.

  Nate gave Jack a worried look as he opened the front passenger side door, "You ok?"

  He was looking at Evie through the back window, Anna still clinging to her. Evie was like a statue. "Are you?"

  Nate shook his head side to side. "Not really, man."

  "Yeah. Me either. Let's get her back.” He got in and started drive, leading them all back home. He kept looking back at Evie from his rearview mirror the entire time, as she sat unchanging, even while Anna slept with her head in her lap.

  Evie was gone.

  CHAPTER 26

  Faces

  Their arrival drew everyone outside. They watched as the car drove through the gates in the light of the setting sun. The people of the Block set down their tools, wiping the dirt off of their hands onto the thighs of their pants. When they had rounded the far corner away from them and the new field, smiles were starting to stretch across their faces.