The Wounded

Gus tripped one up with a protruding foot to get attention. The middle-aged man he tripped, hissed and jumped up agilely, about to walk away. “Wait! What do you want from us? Why are you holding us here?” Gus clamored. The man smiled, giving me chills, and looked past the circle towards the sharp-looking trees. Woods so thick that they held together like a bundle of kindling. He shrugged and shook his head, unwilling or unable to answer. The trees weren’t offering one either, so he moved, kicking dirt in Gus’s face when he was a safe distance away.

An hour later, I stomped the earth as the one who grabbed and threatened me in the brick building passed. Everything was still there, our packs, our handhelds, and my link to Orry. “You.” He stopped and turned, smiling and revealing a mouthful of gaps where teeth should be. “Yeees,” he said in a heavy accent.

He knelt down, and I noticed his face was smudged with soot and dirt. His breath smelled of the strong flavors of last night’s di

He cocked his head to the side, thinking over his answer. His hand went to my face, his strong fingers digging hard into my jawbone as I tried to resist. “Preeeetty,” he kind of whistled through his teeth. He ran his hand down my shirt collar to my breastbone. I pushed my chin to my chest anxiously and looked up, locking eyes with the young man, with dark brown lips and narrow eyes. “You didn’t answer my question,” I said in a hard tone.

He removed his hand and dusted it off on his muscled thigh. “Waiting. All Kind will tell.”

I found myself squirming and twisting my wrists at his words. “Did you hear that?” I threw behind me.

“I did,” Joseph answered tersely.

These people answered to the Superiors.

*****

Mid-morning I was released to go to the toilet under the supervision of the young man with whom I’d had my enlightening conversation. I snapped my shoulders when he touched them, recoiled when he smoothed my hair, but he just shrugged and smiled at me with tarry gums.

When I returned, I was tied up but, this time, we all faced inwards toward the center of the camp. My unwelcome friend grazed my cheek with the back of his sandpapery hand and left.

The fires reached into the sky. The women swept the dirt that was threatening to become mud out to the edge of the camp with grass brooms, while a man placed rocks in a tight circle. I turned to Rash who, for once, had a serious expression on his face. Everyone’s gaze was turned towards the circle, all hoping we weren’t going to end up like Ansel.

As I watched puffs of dust pluming and spraying against the trees in a red spritz, I began to understand more about what this culture was based on. Violence.

Two men stood at the edge of the rock circle on their toes, like it was an abyss that would swallow them. Two women took their shirts and placed their palms to the men’s chests, leaving two chalky white imprints like the claw marks of a giant cat. It was primal and savage, until she reached up on her tiptoes and gave him a peck on the nose. I raised my eyebrow and turned to Joseph. He was deep in thought, turning something over in his head as he stared past the circle and into the thickly wooded trees beyond the camp. The men placed two items at the edge—a worn, leather jacket and a heavy iron pot. I stifled the need to shout at them ‘What the hell is going on here?’

Then they stepped into the circle and I was lost to the performance, the viciousness, the aggression of two men clawing and scratching at each other. But lightly. The balls of their feet pushed up and danced in the dirt, yet barely touched it. The movements were swift, the kicks gliding through the air in sweeping arcs.

The Survivors eyes watched in equal parts horror and fascination. Except Olga, whose usually wobbly face was serene and expressionless like she’d shut down and was playing an alternate event in her mind.

You found yourself rooting for one or the other. I liked the look of the smaller man; he had sharp teeth, two that looked almost like fangs, and this wild, exuberant expression on his face like he savored the harm he was receiving. The bigger guy was slower but stronger, continually lashing out and having his swings ducked.

The small one flashed a pointy grin and ducked under a powerful punch, which threw the big guy off his balance. Reaching in, he slammed the big one in the side in several sharp, almost elastic punches. I gasped like I felt it, the wind knocking from my ribs. The big one gasped for air and doubled over, coughing blood. The small one took the advantage and brought his knee into the big one’s face with a sickening crunch. I cringed at the sound, like biting down on a shard of rock in your lettuce.

It looked like it was over but the big one put up one last move, stumbling forward and trying to grab the little one in a bear hug. His arms opened wide, but his opponent sidestepped him and brought down his arm across the back of the big one’s neck.

The big one dropped on his face like a felled tree.

The smaller, younger man poked the tree with the tip of his foot and when he didn’t move, he turned away, shoved the leather jacket in the pot and carried it to one of the tents. Someone rolled the big guy over, his face a bulging pulp of mashed-up skin. He groaned, and they dragged him to another tent.

We watched two more fights like this, and it became obvious this was how they settled debts and disputes.

*****

Another night passed uncomfortably. I was tied next to Joseph now, so at least I could lean on his shoulder, feel him close in some small way. The man who’d touched me before came to wish me goodnight but, with Joseph staring him down, it was blessedly brief.

The camp folded up and turned in for the night, the light smokey and cool. Joseph nudged me. “I know what to do,” he whispered.

The other heads turned towards us. “I’m glad someone’s thinking of a plan,” Rash whispered, too loudly.

I was instantly suspicious of what he might say; I stressed my hands in their bindings, which were fast turning blue from the cold and the tightness of the ropes.

He began, “Well, you’ve seen how they settle things…”

“Joseph, no!” I said sharply, banging into him with my angular shoulder.

“I can win. I’m so much bigger than they are,” he said, so sure of himself.

Gus cleared his throat gently and said, “It’s not just about size, young man. Can you fight?”

Joseph nodded, and I shook my head at the same time. I’d never seen him fight anyone.

“Tomorrow morning, I’ll speak with their leader,” Joseph said quietly, but determinedly. The others agreed.

I strained to face him, but the best I could do was angle one of my eyes in his direction. Joseph blinked like he didn’t want to look at them. “Don’t do this,” I pleaded.

“Can you see any other option, Rosa?” he asked, working his jaw and staring past the fires.

I closed my mouth. I couldn’t.

*****

Dawn hit like a slap in the face. The women were cleaning fervently. The men saddled horses. They were preparing for something.

I caught the attention of my admirer and asked, “What’s happening?” His eyebrow quirked like he didn’t understand me. “I mean, where are you going?”

Recognition sparked, and he smiled. “We guard road. Catch people. Give to All Kind. Get food.”

My stomach rolled. Damn it.

Joseph coughed. “I want to fight for our release,” he said formally.

The man laughed. “What you have I want?” He sneered.

Joseph was lost. We had no possessions of value to them; everything was back at the house we were abducted from. Besides, what would they want with handhelds and jerky? If we told them where the cars were, the mission would end here. My mind unraveled and wound back together, understanding the only option was the worst one. Joseph was going to kill me.