Blood Red Road
Page 18
Whoa … I shake my head, try to wake myself. My head’s so heavy, I cain’t hardly hold it up.
The Pinches is watchin me, a sly look in their eyes.
Then I know. The food …, I says. You put somethin in … the food. I go to slide my bow o a my back but my ngers go al slack. My hand drops down. My knees buckle unner me. I fal to the deck.
Why’d you … do that fer? I says.
My eyelids flut er.
Once.
Twi—
I’m lyin on somethin hard. Wood. My neck’s sti . My head’s poundin. It hurts somethin erce. I lick my dry lips. My shoulders ache. An my wrists. I groan.
I lift my head, force open heavy eyes. Rough wooden bunks, cookin pots hangin on the rickety wal s. Where … cain’t seem to remember … wait … the landboat … the Desert Swan … Rooster Pinch … his wife. I must be inside the hut on the Desert Swan.
I go to move my arms but … I cain’t. I give ’em a yank. Metal bites into my wrists.
My heart leaps. Starts to race. I’m wide awake.
I’m lyin on a bunk. I’m chained, wrists an ankles, to metal rings set into a girder. Emmi’s on the next bunk, jest a few paces away. She’s chained up too. This hut ain’t the flimsy thing it looks to be. It’s wood panels at ached to a frame made from iron.
chained up too. This hut ain’t the flimsy thing it looks to be. It’s wood panels at ached to a frame made from iron.
We’re prisoners. A red hot wave of fury rushes through me. Fury an fear. Pinch! I roar, pul in at my chains. Pinch! Emmi! I says. Emmi!
Wake up!
Slowly she lifts her head, eyes heavy an dul .
Wake up, Emmi! C’mon now! Emmi!
Her eyes widen when she sees me. She looks an sees her own wrists tied, sees her ankles. Her face twists with fear, she starts to breathe fast.Saba! What’s goin on? What’re they gonna do to us?
Then I notice that the floor’s rumblin. The pots on the wal swing an sway. The Swan’s on the move.
Pinch! I scream. The hut door flies open. Miz Pinch steps inside an closes it behind her.
Wel wel , she says. Awake at last. Pleasant dreams, I hope.
Let us go! I yel . You got no right to do this!
Right ain’t got nuthin to do with it, she says. In this world, you got a take what you want. She shrugs. We want you.
Whaddya mean, you want me?
She lifts the lid on a water bucket an dips a bat ered tin cup in it. Yer young, she says, an strong. A natural-born ghter from the look of it.
I knew it right of . You’l be perfect.
Perfect fer what? I says.
She straightens up. Look at me with her smal dark eyes, cold as stones. Perfect, she says, fer cage fightin.
The lit le hairs on my arms stand on end. I shiver.
That’s right, girlie, she says. You bet er be afeared. Cage fightin’s mean. Nasty. An it’s big business in Hopetown. You’l do wel fer us.
I ain’t doin nuthin fer you, I says.
You ain’t got a choice, she says.
You cain’t make me do nuthin, I says.
Oh you’l do ezzackly what I tel you, she says.
I’l see you in hel first, I says. Let us go! Pinch! Help! Pinch!
Save yer breath, she says. He does what I tel him. She walks over with the cup of water. Bends down an holds my head up. Drink it, she says. Cain’t have you goin thirsty. Cage fighters got a be in prime condition.
I stare at her while I drink. I hold the water in my mouth, then I spit it in her face. She don’t say naught. Jest stares at me a moment, the water runnin down her face.
You shouldn’t of done that, she says.
She goes over to Emmi.
No! I yel . Don’t touch her!
She slaps her across the face. Hard. Emmi cries out. She lifts her head an I see her lip’s bin split open. Blood l s her mouth, trickles down her chin. She starts to cry.
Leave her alone! I yel . She’s a child! She ain’t done nuthin to you!
Miz Pinch comes over an kneels beside my bunk. Puts her face so close to mine that I can see every pock mark on her skin. So close I gag on her foul breath. It smel s like meat left out in the sun. She smiles.
Every time you disobey me, she says, every time you try to git away, I’m gonna hit yer lit le sister. Hit her or … burn her. If I take the notion to, I might even break her arm. But I ain’t gonna hit you. I ain’t ever gonna hit you, my beauty.
She strokes a finger down my cheek. Her filthy nail scrapes aginst my skin.
An you know why? she says. Yer worth too much to me. Yer sister … she ain’t worth nuthin. Not to me anyways. I guess we’re gonna nd out how much she’s worth to you.
I feel it when the sails go down. The Swan gits slower an slower an at last it shudders to a halt. There’s a clunk as the anchor hits the ground.
We must be stoppin fer the night.
We bin watchin while Miz Pinch gut ed an skinned a rock lizard an set it to stew on a bucket stove inside the hut, al the time hummin to herself. It’s like we ain’t even here.
I ain’t opened my mouth since she said that about hurtin Emmi. I bin tryin to think of a plan. Tryin to think what Lugh would do if he was me. If he was here. An how much I wish it was him an me here together an not me an Em. It wouldn’t be so bad then. I’d feel like maybe we had half a chance.
Al right, Emmi? I whisper.
She nods, her eyes big in her thin lit le face. Her lip’s swol ed up where Miz Pinch hit her, the blood dried al dark an crusty. I cain’t stand to think how I hit her too, back at the lake, an me her own esh. She cried them rst few moments after Miz Pinch whacked her, but she ain’t made a peep since.
You was right about ’em, I says. I’m sorry. I should of listened to you.
That’s okay, she says.
It ain’t okay, I says. An it’s my fault she hit you. I shouldn’t of spit at her.
I’m glad you did, Emmi says.
That’s the spirit, I says. I’l git us out a here, Em. I promise.
Quit yer gabbin! Miz Pinch yel s at us. Then she yanks open the door an shrieks, Grub up!
Rooster Pinch slips inside the hut.
You lyin bastard! I says.
He’s al shifty-eyed an hangdog an don’t meet my eyes. Pretends he don’t hear me. Smel s capital, my dear! He rubs his hands together, al fake cheery, an snif s the air. Sheer ambrosia!
Shut up, she says. Siddown.
They shovel it down. When he’s finished, he swipes his finger inside his bowl an licks of the thin gravy. She nods our way.
You bet er feed ’em, she says.
Me, my dear? Oh! Do you think that’s wise? You’d be much bet er at—
Me, my dear? Oh! Do you think that’s wise? You’d be much bet er at—
Her big hand shoots out an she clips him on the ear. He scurries to fetch a couple of tin basins an l s ’em with stew. He goes to Emmi first. He helps her to sit, scoops a spoonful an holds it out to her. She looks at me.
It’s okay, I says. I smile at her an she gives me a lit le smile back.
She eats eagerly, hungrily, hardly stoppin to chew.
That’s a good girl, says Pinch. That’s the way. He looks over his shoulder. Miz Pinch’s busy clearin up, hummin agin, not payin us no at ention. He darts a look at me, whispers to both of us, It’s best if you just do what she says, my dears. If you don’t, believe me, it wil go hard for you.
The Pinches is watchin me, a sly look in their eyes.
Then I know. The food …, I says. You put somethin in … the food. I go to slide my bow o a my back but my ngers go al slack. My hand drops down. My knees buckle unner me. I fal to the deck.
Why’d you … do that fer? I says.
My eyelids flut er.
Once.
Twi—
I’m lyin on somethin hard. Wood. My neck’s sti . My head’s poundin. It hurts somethin erce. I lick my dry lips. My shoulders ache. An my wrists. I groan.
I lift my head, force open heavy eyes. Rough wooden bunks, cookin pots hangin on the rickety wal s. Where … cain’t seem to remember … wait … the landboat … the Desert Swan … Rooster Pinch … his wife. I must be inside the hut on the Desert Swan.
I go to move my arms but … I cain’t. I give ’em a yank. Metal bites into my wrists.
My heart leaps. Starts to race. I’m wide awake.
I’m lyin on a bunk. I’m chained, wrists an ankles, to metal rings set into a girder. Emmi’s on the next bunk, jest a few paces away. She’s chained up too. This hut ain’t the flimsy thing it looks to be. It’s wood panels at ached to a frame made from iron.
chained up too. This hut ain’t the flimsy thing it looks to be. It’s wood panels at ached to a frame made from iron.
We’re prisoners. A red hot wave of fury rushes through me. Fury an fear. Pinch! I roar, pul in at my chains. Pinch! Emmi! I says. Emmi!
Wake up!
Slowly she lifts her head, eyes heavy an dul .
Wake up, Emmi! C’mon now! Emmi!
Her eyes widen when she sees me. She looks an sees her own wrists tied, sees her ankles. Her face twists with fear, she starts to breathe fast.Saba! What’s goin on? What’re they gonna do to us?
Then I notice that the floor’s rumblin. The pots on the wal swing an sway. The Swan’s on the move.
Pinch! I scream. The hut door flies open. Miz Pinch steps inside an closes it behind her.
Wel wel , she says. Awake at last. Pleasant dreams, I hope.
Let us go! I yel . You got no right to do this!
Right ain’t got nuthin to do with it, she says. In this world, you got a take what you want. She shrugs. We want you.
Whaddya mean, you want me?
She lifts the lid on a water bucket an dips a bat ered tin cup in it. Yer young, she says, an strong. A natural-born ghter from the look of it.
I knew it right of . You’l be perfect.
Perfect fer what? I says.
She straightens up. Look at me with her smal dark eyes, cold as stones. Perfect, she says, fer cage fightin.
The lit le hairs on my arms stand on end. I shiver.
That’s right, girlie, she says. You bet er be afeared. Cage fightin’s mean. Nasty. An it’s big business in Hopetown. You’l do wel fer us.
I ain’t doin nuthin fer you, I says.
You ain’t got a choice, she says.
You cain’t make me do nuthin, I says.
Oh you’l do ezzackly what I tel you, she says.
I’l see you in hel first, I says. Let us go! Pinch! Help! Pinch!
Save yer breath, she says. He does what I tel him. She walks over with the cup of water. Bends down an holds my head up. Drink it, she says. Cain’t have you goin thirsty. Cage fighters got a be in prime condition.
I stare at her while I drink. I hold the water in my mouth, then I spit it in her face. She don’t say naught. Jest stares at me a moment, the water runnin down her face.
You shouldn’t of done that, she says.
She goes over to Emmi.
No! I yel . Don’t touch her!
She slaps her across the face. Hard. Emmi cries out. She lifts her head an I see her lip’s bin split open. Blood l s her mouth, trickles down her chin. She starts to cry.
Leave her alone! I yel . She’s a child! She ain’t done nuthin to you!
Miz Pinch comes over an kneels beside my bunk. Puts her face so close to mine that I can see every pock mark on her skin. So close I gag on her foul breath. It smel s like meat left out in the sun. She smiles.
Every time you disobey me, she says, every time you try to git away, I’m gonna hit yer lit le sister. Hit her or … burn her. If I take the notion to, I might even break her arm. But I ain’t gonna hit you. I ain’t ever gonna hit you, my beauty.
She strokes a finger down my cheek. Her filthy nail scrapes aginst my skin.
An you know why? she says. Yer worth too much to me. Yer sister … she ain’t worth nuthin. Not to me anyways. I guess we’re gonna nd out how much she’s worth to you.
I feel it when the sails go down. The Swan gits slower an slower an at last it shudders to a halt. There’s a clunk as the anchor hits the ground.
We must be stoppin fer the night.
We bin watchin while Miz Pinch gut ed an skinned a rock lizard an set it to stew on a bucket stove inside the hut, al the time hummin to herself. It’s like we ain’t even here.
I ain’t opened my mouth since she said that about hurtin Emmi. I bin tryin to think of a plan. Tryin to think what Lugh would do if he was me. If he was here. An how much I wish it was him an me here together an not me an Em. It wouldn’t be so bad then. I’d feel like maybe we had half a chance.
Al right, Emmi? I whisper.
She nods, her eyes big in her thin lit le face. Her lip’s swol ed up where Miz Pinch hit her, the blood dried al dark an crusty. I cain’t stand to think how I hit her too, back at the lake, an me her own esh. She cried them rst few moments after Miz Pinch whacked her, but she ain’t made a peep since.
You was right about ’em, I says. I’m sorry. I should of listened to you.
That’s okay, she says.
It ain’t okay, I says. An it’s my fault she hit you. I shouldn’t of spit at her.
I’m glad you did, Emmi says.
That’s the spirit, I says. I’l git us out a here, Em. I promise.
Quit yer gabbin! Miz Pinch yel s at us. Then she yanks open the door an shrieks, Grub up!
Rooster Pinch slips inside the hut.
You lyin bastard! I says.
He’s al shifty-eyed an hangdog an don’t meet my eyes. Pretends he don’t hear me. Smel s capital, my dear! He rubs his hands together, al fake cheery, an snif s the air. Sheer ambrosia!
Shut up, she says. Siddown.
They shovel it down. When he’s finished, he swipes his finger inside his bowl an licks of the thin gravy. She nods our way.
You bet er feed ’em, she says.
Me, my dear? Oh! Do you think that’s wise? You’d be much bet er at—
Me, my dear? Oh! Do you think that’s wise? You’d be much bet er at—
Her big hand shoots out an she clips him on the ear. He scurries to fetch a couple of tin basins an l s ’em with stew. He goes to Emmi first. He helps her to sit, scoops a spoonful an holds it out to her. She looks at me.
It’s okay, I says. I smile at her an she gives me a lit le smile back.
She eats eagerly, hungrily, hardly stoppin to chew.
That’s a good girl, says Pinch. That’s the way. He looks over his shoulder. Miz Pinch’s busy clearin up, hummin agin, not payin us no at ention. He darts a look at me, whispers to both of us, It’s best if you just do what she says, my dears. If you don’t, believe me, it wil go hard for you.
