UnSouled

At the edge of town, Una lingers until there are neither cars nor pedestrians on the street; then she crosses to a narrow footpath that leads into the woods. Co

Although he can’t see her in the dense woods, the ground is soft from an early-morning rain, and he can follow her footprints. There are several sets of them. She’s been back and forth on this path many times over the past few days. About half a mile in, he comes to a building—if it can really be called a building. It’s an odd-looking structure, the shape of an igloo, but made of mud and stone. He hears two voices inside. One is Una, and the other is male—but doesn’t sound like anyone Co

His first thought is that Una is meeting a lover here for a secret liaison and perhaps they should be left alone . . . but the argument inside doesn’t sound like a lover’s spat.

“No, I won’t do it!” shouts the male voice. “Not now and not ever again!”

“Then you’ll be left here to die,” Una says.

“Better that than this!”

There’s only one door, but the apex of the dome is in disrepair and full of holes. Carefully, quietly, Co

His first impression hits a chord in him as resonant as any instrument Una could build. He sees a young man about his age with odd multitextured hair of different shades. He’s tied to a pole, struggling to pull himself free. By the smell of the place and the look of him, he’s been here for a while, in this helpless, hopeless situation, without even the freedom to relieve himself anywhere but in his clothes.

Co

Una is not Argent, Co

“Either you have to let me go, or you have to kill me,” her captive says. “Please do one or the other, and let this end!”

To that, Una responds with a single, simple question. “What’s my name?”

“I told you, I don’t know! I didn’t know yesterday, I don’t know today, and I won’t know tomorrow!”

“Then maybe today the music will remind you.”

Then Una undoes his bonds. He doesn’t even try to run—he must know it’s no use. Instead he sobs, his arms going limp. And into those limp arms Una puts the guitar she brought.

“Do it,” Una says. Now she speaks gently, and she caresses his hands, lifting them into position on the instrument. “Give it life. It’s what you do. It’s what you’ve always done.”

“That wasn’t me,” he pleads.

Una moves away from him and sits down facing him. Taking her rifle from its case, she lays it across her lap. “I said do it.”

Her prisoner reluctantly begins to play. Sorrowful strains fill the space and echo, the entire building becoming like the tone chamber of the guitar. Co

This music is beautiful. This prisoner of Una’s is a true master of the instrument. He’s not sobbing anymore. Instead it’s Una who sobs. She holds her gut as if there’s great pain there. Her sobs grow into wails that resonate with the music like some great chanting of grief.

Then Co

In an instant Una leaps to her feet and swings her rifle into position, aiming it at him through the gap in the stones.

Co

“Don’t you dare move!”

Co

“Hííko!” she curses, and takes off after him. Co

As she closes in on her escaping prisoner, Una drops her rifle and launches herself at him, landing on his back and bringing him down. She struggles with him, her long hair like a dark shroud covering both of them as they thrash on the ground, and Co

“Up! Both of you! Now!”

And when they don’t listen, he fires the rifle into the air.

That gets their attention. They stop struggling, and they both rise to their feet. Only now does Co

“What the hell is all this about?” Co

“None of your business!” Una snaps. “Give me back my rifle!”

“How about I just give you one of the bullets?” Co

All at once it strikes Co

“It’s you! You’re the Akron AWOL!” And then, “Where is she? Is she here? Take me to her!”

The only thing Co

“This is what we’re going to do,” he says, forcing calm into his voice but keeping the rifle raised. “We’re all going back to the igloo thing.”

“Sweat lodge,” snarls Una.

“Right. Whatever. We’re going back there, we’re going to sit our asses down, and we’re going to sweat this whole thing out until I’m satisfied. Got it?”

Una glares at him, then storms back toward the sweat lodge. The Rewind isn’t as quick to move. Co

The Rewind gives him a condescending glare from his stolen eyes, then heads back toward the sweat lodge.

•   •   •

Co

“He has Wil’s hands,” Co

Una explains the details of Wil’s abduction—or at least what she was told by Lev and Pivane. The Tashi’ne family never got any answers as to what happened to their son and never expected to. Kids who are taken by parts pirates rarely turn up at harvest camps; they’re sold piece by piece on the black market. But apparently Wil Tashi’ne was a special case. Co

“What were you thinking, Una?”

“Una!” The Rewind smiles triumphantly. “Her name is Una!”