Posted by hisdinner on February 14, 2005 at 17:00:02:
Chapter 7
The storyteller's fire hissed as spitting rain shot through the chimney hole and filled the air with smoke. Wind sucked and tore at the roundhouse. Jamie watched the thin bark walls as they billowed in and out, the lodge poles creaking and threatening to snap. She shivered and drew a shawl around her shoulders. It was like being in the belly of a dying beast, watching its last breaths. Jamie was afraid, the smoky air stung her eyes, and she drew her knees up to her breasts like a little child.
Why was she here tonight? The Elders had summoned her and six more of the older girls. Jamie's belly was sick with anxious possibilities. She tried to keep herself from recognizing what was so plain in the fearful faces all around this circle. She told herself to relax, that the Elders had just devised some new chore for them, or made some new ritual. But no. Jamie made herself as small as she could. It was bad, the reason for this Council meeting, and she knew it. This meeting was not to glorify the Mother—it was about the missing girls. And the rumors of unspeakable abomination, about betrayal. Oh, she'd dreaded this night, but deep down, she'd known that it would come.
Diane took the staff and pounded it twice on the ground. The circle of Elders quieted, and the six younger women followed suit. A few of the Elders nervously cleared their throats. "Sanctuary, keep us safe." Diane's voice sounded harsh, strained.
"We ask the Mother," the circle of women, old and young, replied.
"Bless this place, shield it from the eyes of Man," Diane continued the familiar chant.
"Safe from the Ones who hunt; safe in your arms." The women cast quick glances left and right. No one seemed to know what would happen next, but everyone dreaded it. Diane had taken the Teller's bench again. So many times they'd seen her there this year. So many Lost.
Jamie felt a hand clasp hers. She turned her head. Megan! She was only a week past Trials, so young, still so innocent. "Why are we summoned here?" Megan asked. She kept her voice low, but Jamie heard the quaver in it.
"I don't know, Meggie, shh—we'll find out soon enough."
The two girls watched as Diane removed a paper from her pocket. Diane turned to catch the firelight and prepared to read.
"This was left inside my door two nights ago. Since then I've had no sleep. I ask that you listen and then tell what you know. No one will be punished if she speaks the truth."
Jamie's eyes widened as Megan squeezed her hand tight and hissed, "What is she talking about?"
Jamie shook her head, too terrified to speak. She'd expected Diane to speak of the last girl gone missing, of Bethany. The younger girls leaned forward as Diane began to read.
"Mother Diane,
I ask the Mother to hear my words and know I speak only what I believe is true though it breaks my heart. Sanctuary is a sham, I saw the truth. I heard them plan. I made a map to where they met the Hunter and the Gatherer and what transpired, I memorized but I lack the time and ability to write it all. I must run-- I fear they know of me. I fear it in every face I see around the fire. Which are you, my sisters, friend or mortal foe? It is impossible to know. For this reason I make myself a Lost One this night, and join those piteous wretches in the far reaches of the woods. I leave you with one solemn warning: By all that's soft and good, trust no one but yourself, and keep yourself well away from the Hunter's path, and far from the Hunter's friends.
Signed Bethany
On This Day, the Fifth past Summer Litany."
As one the women gasped, and questions tumbled out so fast that Diane pounded her staff four times before they settled back onto the ground and let her speak.
"What sickness was in this Bethany girl to spout such Deviltry?" Elder Marian's voice rose above the others.
"What plan? What people? She blasphemes Haven, this Bethany, if she returns—she must be banned!" Elder Abigail shook a fist above her head.
"Why does she strive to cast us all as enemies? Why does she throw such poison into our midst, then turn and run? Bethany be Damned!" Elder Catherine spat.
Emily, the oldest of the girls sobbed, shaken by the Elders' words. Bethany had been Emily's First Nights' mate. Jamie watched her, felt her sorrow, saw her heartbreak and confusion. Had Bethany kept her secrets from her bedmate? The women stirred and whispered as their attention was drawn to the sobbing girl. Everyone was on fire to know what had forced the sunny Bethany to commit such heresy. Calling their sanctuary a sham? Unspeakable. Jamie and all the other younger ones stared at Emily who shook her head; her tears fell into the Council ground.
Only Jamie knew the truth, and she prayed she would not be singled out before the council. "Hold fast, Emily," Jamie breathed the words into the smoky air. She willed her strength to the quivering girl.
Diane motioned for quiet again and then turned to gesture at the six younger ones. "These girls were her friends and bedmates. Girls. You will disclose all you know of Bethany's heart, why she would fill her mind with blasphemies, why she would concoct such ludicrous stories. Emily. We will begin with you." Diane motioned Emily to stand by her and face the Elders.
"But—Mother Diane? I cannot say! I can't answer what I do not know, by all that's soft and good, I swear it—she said nothing of this to me." Emily's eyes darted around the room, never settling on any one of them.
"You will stand fast, Sister, and wait punishment. I am not convinced." The Elders murmured their agreement with Diane. Several muttered, "Two of a kind, Lost before they ever left." Emily blanched and shook her head, whispering, "But she never said a word, I don't know what you mean!" The assembled Elders turned away from her as one. Shunned! Jamie and the younger girls looked to each other for guidance, and then they turned away from Emily, too. No one looked at Emily as she wept and sang the grieving song. No one sang along, no hands comforted her now. Now, she was Shunned. Now all it took was the Mother's upraised fist, one finger pointed toward the land of Men, and Emily would be cast out, Lost.
Megan whispered to Jamie, "How can she not know? They were never apart! Those two were as one, wedded!" Jamie tried to shush her, shaking her head. She felt feverish.
Diane turned to Jamie. "What do you know of this girl and her rantings, Jamie?"
Jamie felt her belly twist inside. "Mother?"
"Stand before the Council. Show respect, and open your heart, girl." Diane spoke softly but her eyes glinted like the metal of a Hunter's knife.
Jamie didn't know what to do. She'd been with Bethany that day, a week ago. They had sneaked away from the others because each of their lovers was the jealous kind, and lately, Jamie and Bethany had found an irresistible attraction to each other's lips, and thighs, and—Jamie blushed, remembering. So, they'd wandered far north of their safe Haven and made love in the brushy thickets near the river. They'd fallen asleep and wakened in a panic when they heard the throb of a Hunter's vehicle. Bethany had wanted to spring up and run, but Jamie held her down inside the sheltering brush. The rumbling motor cut off. Jamie peered through the thicket and saw the door of a huge truck open and a man leap down. He wore fancy clothes, nothing like the hunters she'd seen in pictures. A second man emerged. Ah. This one had been driving the truck. This one looked the part.
Jamie gasped. A woman emerged from the woods. It was Elder Catherine walking toward the men! Bethany clamped her hand over Jamie's mouth and the two girls watched the meeting play out. Elder Catherine acted as if she knew the fancy-suited man, and she actually reached out and touched the arm of the Hunter, not once, but several times. Was she flirting with him? Jamie and Bethany were mesmerized. They caught bits of the conversation, not every word, but enough to cast their mind into such terrible confusion. They learned that everything they knew was wrong. Everything.
"Increase the dosage to 45 milligrams. The yield is down by twenty percent," Suited Man growled.
They saw Elder Catherine nod. What was he saying? What did it mean? Jamie and Bethany watched as their Elder, the one who taught them culinary skills, took a box from the suited man and hid it in her clothes.
The Hunter threw a rough blanket on the ground. "Want your payment, Ma'am?"
Jamie and Bethany watched, incredulous as Catherine stripped and lay before the men. The suited man grimaced and made a show of his distaste as the Hunter plowed her. Catherine's legs twitched and wrapped around him. She cried out "For Sanctuary!"
"For meatier girls, and some to spare!" he retorted. He finished with her and stood, chuckling. Suited Man snickered and clapped the Hunter on the back, and then the two roared off in the massive vehicle.
Until this moment, facing the Council, Jamie had washed that day from her memory--it was all too sickeningly wrong to face. She'd rather mourn the Lost Ones, she'd rather—almost!—bury the remains of a stolen sister than face this. Because, in this moment, Jamie knew down to her bones that Bethany was right. How could she trust anyone, even Mother Diane herself? Anyone might be in league with the ones she'd seen in the woods. With her. Jamie let her gaze light on Elder Catherine. The woman's eyes were boring into her.
She knows! Jamie felt that woman's gaze examine her. She fought to stay calm.
"Mother Diane? I know that Bethany longed to be a wild one, she wanted to be Lost in the Woods, she told me so. She—she wanted a Hunter to find her."
The group of women gasped, and several muttered the Warding chant and made the sign against the Evil Ones. Diane and Catherine exchanged a long look, and then, Mother Diane spoke. "Little Jamie. How difficult that must have been to tell such dark truths about one so close to you."
Jamie peered up at Diane and then glanced at Emily. The girl was staring at Jamie, stunned, shaking her head. "Not true! My Bethany was in line for Motherhood! She would never have left this place for a Hunter's touch! Never!"
Diane and the rest of the Elders had gathered by the door of the Roundhouse, their backs to Emily, their profiles lit by orangey streaks of fire and outlined with black tendrils of soot. Muted voices rose and fell, but all too quickly, the Elders fell silent. They had decided. Jamie and the remaining girls watched as the Elders faced Emily once more. She sank to her knees and raised her palms in supplication, but she was ignored. Emily begged forgiveness as Mother Diane shook her head, raised a fist and pointed toward the City.
Lost now. Emily stumbled out of the Roundhouse for the last time.
Jamie shrank into the shadows, weeping, sick with guilt and fear. Could she somehow save that poor girl? Jamie looked at Catherine, who kept a protective hand on her gently rounded belly and a smug look on her face. Diane took up Catherine's hand and kissed it and the two Elders gave the signal for the Teller's fire to be extinguished. Jamie stayed behind, listening to the howling wind and trying to understand. How could such a beautiful place embrace evil?
An hour passed, Jamie heard the rains die down, and she began walking back to her bed. She was twenty feet from the door, just past a copse of birches when Catherine stepped into her path. She smiled at Jamie, but Jamie felt ice and daggers in her belly as Catherine's nails sank into Jamie's wrists.
She pulled the girl up close and hissed, "Trees are friends and grass is good."
Elder Catherine dug in her nails, and Jamie whimpered. Should she respond? She was too terrified to say the words.
"Venture not out of our wood." Catherine shook the girl.
Jamie yelped and cried, "Oh please by all that's soft and good?"
Catherine wrenched Jamie's arm, fingernails puncturing soft skin. "'The Hunter comes, his net will find / All careless girls who stray outside.' You've strayed, haven't you, my little sweet one? Speak of this and you'll be the next one Shunned. Now, go. Goodnight!"
The Elder tossed Jamie away from her, and Jamie tumbled onto the cold, wet grass.
Jamie crept into Megan's bed that night. She needed to feel something sweet and warm.
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She lay there like a fish gasping for air, her flesh jiggling like jelly. Michael laughed, “So sorry, something came up.” With a flick of the switch the machine slowly silenced. Above the silence Amanda wept, she was nothing now. Michael drew forth a long slender knife, slapping her rump, “Easy girl. You’re a lucky one. Usually I experiment a little further, but there’s no time. So I figured slice you up, make myself some nice tender jerky.” With that the blade cut swiftly through Amanda’s thigh.
Amanda didn’t even feel the blade cut her. She could hear the sickening sound of the knife slicing through her flesh; hear the flop of the meat being laid down, but the machine that had violated her left her numb. Through tear-soaked eyes she stared out at the plain white wall in front of her. There would be no trees to mark where she died, no flowers on her grave. She would become smoked meat for this man to savor, a name he would never remember, sustenance. She felt hands lift her, higher and higher she went, the white becoming brighter, and something came into view… Mother?
Michael wheeled the flesh out to his smoke room, leaving the carcass to be cleaned up by others. After hanging the strips of meat up to dry, he ventured forth to find Marta relaxing in a chilled bath. He ran his hands across her back, feeling each goosebump, marveling at the red tint of her skin. It gave him an idea, but not for now. “Marta?”
“Yes Michael?”
“You were very brave.”
“Thank you Master.”
“I knew you would never fail me.”
“Never, Michael.”
“I need you Marta.”
Her heart jumped.
“I have enemies, and they are always looking to destroy me. If one of them should catch these lovebirds, it would make me look like a fool. You won’t let that happen, will you Marta?”
“Never… my love.”
“Yes Marta,” he spun around to face her, looking deep into her eyes, their mouths so close she could taste his breath, “Never.”
She raised herself from the water, sitting up, he watched the water stream down her magnificent breasts. He cupped one in his hand toying with the nipple between his fingers, “I need you to take me to where they will go.”
“My love, I do not know that place, only Elders know.”
He pinched hard on her tender, singed nipple, “Why do you betray me like this?”
The pain shot through her, she begged, “Michael, I promise you, only the Elders know of this place!”
“I saved you!” He squeezed harder on her breast with his whole hand. Grabbing her hair in the other, pulling hard, “You were meat, cooking and sizzling with your sisters! This is how you repay me!”
He forced her under the water, holding her down as she flailed and struggled. He pulled her up suddenly and she gasped for air, trying to speak, but he would not listen. “I thought you were worthy of my love, but you’re nothing but dumb meat!”
Her head went under again, her legs kicking and banging against the side of the tub. Lifting her high above the water this time, he tossed her out of the tub and onto the cold marble floor. She slid and hit a wall, coughing and gagging water and he began to kick her.
“Worthless to me! You are worthless to me!!!”
She cried, unable to find her voice through the heaving until, “I know where!”
He stood above her, “What?”
“I cannot find where the Lost go, but I know where you can find the Elders. They will tell you Michael, please Michael, let me take you there.”
He bent down and caressed her, she flinched at first and could not control her shaking, “Yes my love. Take me there.”
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Emily pulled the shawl tighter around her shoulders. She'd been allowed to take her clothes and a keepsake from her First Night, though no one was allowed to touch her, kiss her, even say goodbye. She coughed and struggled to maintain her footing on the slick trail that led away from the circle of Haven, out, farther away than she'd ever dared venture. They'd been wrong, of course. Bethany was the one who had wandered out, but she always came home. "…soft and good, never leave our Hallowed Wood," Emily sang, and then choked off a sob as she realized how far away she was.
Mist hung in ragged patches. What was that ahead, not just more trees, no. A building? Rushing sounds, square corners, pens? She didn't hear any familiar animal sounds, no bleating goats, no chuffing horses. Emily walked into a clearing and stopped dead. This place kept the Necessaries! Emily shrank back into the fringe of trees and peered into the building. There were pens, but they were sheltered, nearly like a longhouse, yes. Movement caught her eye and she turned her head. There! At the far end of this peculiar longhouse, she saw a man. He was dipping water from a cistern near a gate. The gate was barred and locked. He was penned inside it. A Necessary? It was true, then. Here were the seed-keepers, the ones the Mothers used.
A man, but not a hunter. Did she dare? Emily was already so tired; she'd walked an hour through wet grass. She was drenched and her clothes were heavy on her; she'd had to put on all the clothes she had. Emily searched the clearing for signs of guards. She knew the legend, but since she was not chosen for Motherhood, she'd never been allowed to see this place. The girls whispered about the men who sheltered in these pens. These were the men that the City had cast off, so the Elders told them. The city would not allow them home. Legend said that Haven welcomed Lost men to share their seed, to help renew the village, to keep Haven alive. And that made these men Necessary, but nothing more. Their seed was brought out of these pens in the bulging bellies of village women, but the men stayed locked within their pens. Emily felt an empty sort of kinship for them.
She edged to the end of the pens where the man stood drinking and gazing across the river and toward the City. What am I doing? She asked herself, but she could not resist. What more can I lose tonight? Why not find out for myself? She stepped out from the shadows and approached the gate and the man.
"You do not carry Wine or sweets, or even bread. You are not chosen for Mothering."
Emily was startled and stopped a few feet from the gate. How had he seen her?
The man held up his cup, swiveled it in his soft hands, and drew her eyes to the reflection. "Silly child's trick. What brings you here, Lost One?" His voice was as cold as the night air. A key hung from his neck. It looked a perfect fit for the lock on the gate. Emily wondered why he wouldn't let her in. And why did he stay behind the gate if he held the key himself?
Emily clasped the crossbar of the gate and let her fingers weave into the heavy rings of the metal chain that secured the Pens.
"I just—I just wondered – and I was cold, and I thought maybe—"
The man laughed, and his coarse robes shifted, revealing a strange belt and banding beneath. Were these what men wore for pants? Emily stared openly. The pants were quite short, open in the back but criss crossed with laces across his buttocks. Steel glinted from the frontspiece. Emily couldn't see how the man could get them off to bathe. Squinting into the gloom, she finally spotted a small lock at his waist at the back of the strange garment.
"Admiring my seed belt?" He paused. "I should have known. It's an old joke, but lost on you lost ones, ha!" He caressed the bulge of the frontspiece. "It's Elder Dorothy's work. Look, you can see her mark in the leather tooling." The Necessary gestured to the outermost curve of the steel and leather codpiece. He puffed with pride and preened.
Emily blushed and shivered and tried get a look past the Necessary and into the stables. It looked warm in there. The Necessary frowned when he noticed her inattention. He turned his head and looked through the stable door. Several bodies were backlit by a flickering lamp. He frowned and flicked his hand at the shadowy men.
"Nothing out here but a Lost One, wandering into places she's not welcome. Go back to sleep."
Emily heard several men murmuring back in the stables. Her acquaintance drew his robes closed and walked back inside. She shivered in sodden clothes and cried out, "At least give me a firestarter, please. Then I'll leave you."
The tall man turned to her, his hands gripping the heavy stable door. "You look for the Devil's Fire, girl. I hear it's just over the log bridge." He pulled the stable door shut with a heavy thump.
"The woods are dark…" she whispered. She followed the sound of rushing water until she came upon the bridge. Rain had slickened the mossy surface of a broad tree trunk, but someone had strung a thick rope across the river's span, five feet above the log. The river glowed and ran swiftly over jutting rocks, almost twenty feet below the log. Emily clambered up onto the roots of the tree and warily edged her way onto her feet and out onto the tree trunk, less than a yard from the ground. Her soft soled shoes sank into the moss. When she reached for the rope, her right foot slipped down the curve of the trunk and she nearly tumbled off and into the frothing surface of the swift current below.
"Mother shield me from fear and show me how!" She cried, gripping the rope and plunging ahead, nearly running on the slippery curving surface of the tree. When she was halfway to the other bank, she caught sight of a fire-glow in the distance. Was this the Devil's Fire? Lost Ones like her, is that what he meant? Or some strange Demons? Emily pulled herself forward, losing her footing countless times, once dangling over the sharpest rocks as the river roared a promise of icy acceptance, should she fall. At last, when Emily looked down she saw pine needles and underbrush beneath the tree trunk. She let go of the rope and leapt onto the spongy ground.
Emily lay there, panting. Her body craved sleep, but she knew that girls could freeze to death if they let the cold talk them into sleep. She rose and wrapped some cloth around her abraded palms, and walked in the direction of the orangey glow she'd seen. It wasn't near as far as she'd feared. In ten minutes' time, she'd reached the edge of another clearing. This one was small, and the fire in its center was miniscule. Circling the fire was a ring of rocks. Circling the rocks was a ring of men. Beyond the circle, in the dark, there were five tents.
Emily looked at the fire and heard her belly rumble. She shrank back, afraid that the men had heard it too. No. They seemed to be sleeping, or nearly so. A sap-filled log spat and popped! And the men sat up. Why not? She asked herself. They can only turn me out again.
"Hello, the camp, May I join your fire?" She was shocked at the raw sound of her voice in the chill air.
Five heads turned and three men leaped up and made their way to her, peering into the gloom, wary.
"You Lost?" called the large man closing in on her left. His hair and beard were merged into an astounding cloud. Emily thought he looked like the vengeful God who cast Eve out.
"Yes, Sir. Please let me warm myself for a little while?"
A second man had joined the first. His eyes were wild, his hair lank and greasy in the firelight. He turned to the large man and asked, "Frank? You claimin'?"
"Well HELL yeah!" Frank said, reaching out to Emily and pulling her to him with one massive hand. He circled her waist and hefted her as the third man caught up to them.
"Frank, dammit, I thought the next one's mine!" The third man grumbled and smoothed a scraggly beard.
Emily tried to loosen Frank's grip, but it was steel, and she was exhausted. "Please, I only want a little time by your fire, then I promise I'll leave," she pleaded.
Frank and his companions walked Emily back to the fire. Frank gestured to the tents. "Vernon, you keep them put! And Sarney, Donald, you kin stay and help. Let's welcome this lil girl right."
Vernon, the one with the scraggly beard, spat on the ground, then stomped off to the tents. Emily could hear him shouting, "All you wives, Linda, Frannie? Keep yerselfs inside. You hear?"
Sarney was the wild-eyed one. He circled around Emily, appraising. "Nip nip nip, hee hee!" he whispered as he pursed his lips and made quick snipping gestures with his forefinger and thumb at Emily's hips and mouth, at her breasts, his fingers barely grazing her.
Frank held her impassively, drawing her backside into his chest with one thick forearm. Donald rose from the fire and faced them, cocking his head to one side. He tilted up Emily's chin and asked, "What's the matter, little Lost Girl? Don't you want to be a bride?"
There was a rain-soaked table behind the fire. Tools were bundled in oil cloth beneath it. Frank hefted Emily over his shoulder and threw her belly-up on the table moments later. He rummaged in the tools and found two huge C-irons and his mallet. He motioned for Sarney and Donald to restrain her. The two men forced her legs apart and held her body still while Emily howled and begged. Distant protest carried on the wind from the tents. Women? Girls in there? Emily was frantic.
"Save me? Please, sisters, they're going to—to—"
"Just claiming what's mine now, girl. Shush yourself," Frank said, and casually stuffed a wedge of wood into Emily's mouth.
Frank settled the C-irons over each of Emily's wrists and pounded them into place, pinning her arms to the table, her wrists far out to each side, stretching her on the cold,wet plank. Emily could feel the damp seep through her clothes.
"These clothes gotta go," Frank nodded at Sarney. You got a knife on you?
Sarney clapped his hands and produced a hunter's blade with a wicked backward curve. With three quick runs, he had slit Emily's skirts and underthings and left her bare. Three faint red lines marked the paths his knives had taken.
"Husband's first." Frank rumbled. He dropped his pants and pawed at Emily's sex. "Ain't had none, have you? Well then, this is gonna hurt."
All three men brayed laughter as he began to pound into the wailing girl, her body smacking against the cold plank. The wind picked up, swirled smoke into their eyes, and hail began to strike the men's backs as they waited their turns.
Quiet chanting rose from three of the tents. "Don’t fear the dark, little one, let night be your friend. Stay by the fire, keep warm, the worst will end."
Emily thought she might be losing her mind. As the three men made sport of her, she swore she heard sweet voices rode on the wind. But the voices lied to her. The worst was just beginning.
One by one the men left her side and walked back to their tents. Frank rubbed her hair, “Soft. Very nice. You're mine now girl. We all took a turn so no man would covet ya. But from now on yer mine, do with whatever I want.”
Emily didn’t totally understand, she hurt bad, what did those voices say? She watched him take something out of his pocket and leave it in the fire, he came back and unshackled her from the plank, leaving the cuffs on. Frank flipped her over and pulled her legs off the plank, her ass hanging there. She could not muster the power to even move. She heard the fire cackle and his footsteps as Frank approached. “This’s gonna sting a bit. Nobody ever not know who owns you.”
She heard her skin begin to melt even before the metal touched it. The pain throughout her body, the smell of cooked flesh, her screams woke the dead. Collapsing on the stone she silently wept. He applied a cold compress to the fresh wound and lifted her on his shoulders, taking her to his tent.
It was dark, hints of light escaping the lantern. He held her tight, more for his warmth than for her comfort. “In the morning the other wives show you how we do things. You gonna make me proud.” Frank blew out the lantern and Emily welcomed the darkness. She was his. Frank owned her. The searing burn reminded her every second of that night. Emily fell into exhausted sleep at dawn. At least she was someone’s again.
_________________________________________
“Gob we are fucking Hunters!” Ron was hyperactive, but his enthusiasm was very catchy. They had driven the van off the city roads and out onto the dirt of the forest. Over bumps and branches the vehicle creaked in protest. Gob cracked open a beer and began to swig it down. “Pass that here, Goblin!” Ron tried to hold the steering wheel straight, but this was not an off road vehicle.
If it wasn’t the tree that stopped them, it most certainly would have been something else. However the oak wasn’t moving and it let them know them that. Ron saw it coming, tried to turn the wheel, yet they still slid sideways and crashed into the mighty oak. Gob began to scream, “I’m bleeding, oh god Ron I’m bleeding!” Ron reached over to his friend, “It’s beer you stupid fuck.”
They emerged from the truck shaken, but not stirred in their desire. They began to walk in a direction that Ron had a gut feeling about. Within a few miles, as the night grew colder, he began to doubt his gut. They made a fire and sat around it eating jerky they had purchased, and plotting their next move.
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Cyndi led them through the brushy outskirts and into the deeper woods. Herbert always seemed to be dragging behind. He was nervous, the surroundings so unfamiliar, so vast and open. He would think, “How did any girls ever get captured out here?” Cyndi noticed when his mind was wandering; she went back to retrieve him, clasping his hand and leading him along. Cyndi's memories rushed in, triggered by the scent of sap and herbs. She inhaled the scent of chamomile and bear grass and the popcorn scent of thistle. She was home! And Herbert was here. She hummed the Bounty blessing song. Herbert only knew food from funny packages, but he'd learn. If only she could find the source of the rich cereal the cookhouse Mothers fed to us.
"Oh, I miss our morning cereal, so good, mm!" Cyndi smiled at Herbert. Maybe we'll find the grain fields first, and make our own!" Herbert wiped his brow and grinned at his wonderful girl. His girl. She seemed healed by this green, strange place. And him. She'd told him so, they'd told each other each time they fell asleep entangled, meshed, one.
Their momentary bliss was cut short when Cyndi eyed a girl lying in the clearing. They approached slowly, Herbert had seen a Hunter on TV use a girl as a decoy, yet this was different. The girl was sleeping in a fetal position; they kneeled by her side as Cyndi brushed the hair from her face and said, “I know this girl.”
“Why would she lie out in the open like this? Is she hurt?”
“I can’t tell.”
Bethany’s eyed popped open and she tried to scurry away. She had lain down, convinced she wanted to die, yet her instincts kicked in upon her discovery. “Leave me alone!”
Cyndi tried to comfort her, “It’s all right little one. We won’t hurt you.”
Bethany eyed Herbert. “He’s a hunter, and you--YOU betray your kind!”
“He is not a Hunter, this is my man. His name is Herbert.”
Herbert smiled, “Her man." He had known it, but Cyndi had never been said it out loud before.
“My name is Cyndi, do you remember me?”
Bethany stared at her as if she looked upon a ghost, “Cyndi went to the city, a Hunter took her.”
“Yes. Sweetie, he did. But Herbert saved me.”
Bethany stood there confused, staring at both of them.
“Tell me your name?” Cyndi questioned her.
“Bethany.”
"So good to find you, sweet one," Cyndi murmured. Was it? She felt a pang of loss for just the two of them, for Cyndi and her Man. Bethany was younger, not of her circle, but she was Lost now. Lost ones needed each other. Didn't they?
Bethany ate with them, telling only a fragment of why she had left the village. She was not sure she trusted Cyndi, someone who had been to the city and had “escaped”. Yet she was fascinated with Herbert, a man who would save a girl? She sat in awe as Cyndi told her the story of how Herbert had risked everything for her. Later, when the three of them walked, Herbert would always look behind to make sure Bethany was there, and she would smile at him. He was quiet, but she could feel a warmth from him.
Herbert was nervous. This girl, who was she? He knew she wasn’t telling them her whole story, yet why? Cyndi seemed to care about her, so he would also. He had to get rid of City suspicions, City ways. As they walked he would strain to listen beyond the subtle noises of the forest, straining to hear any sounds that civilization was catching up with them. Occasionally he would catch the girl looking at him, and he would try to smile. He could not help but feel she was an intrusion on their adventure, and wished they had never come across her. Maybe that made him selfish, Herbert mused, but it was true. They'd had such little time.
Cyndi walked with determination; in her mind she could picture the Sanctuary of the Lost. They would be welcome there, and Herbert would be hailed as a hero. Cyndi smiled, thinking how he would protest that title. Someone there would help this little lost one that tagged along, and then they could be just the two of them again. Cyndi squeezed Herbert's arm and kissed him and whispered, "Soon, just us again." But he'd fallen asleep.
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At night Bethany watched as Cyndi and Herbert snuggled against each other. She envied them--to have someone. Bethany sighed; she thought of her Emily and the Village, but she was here now, here with Cyndi and Herbert. Her eyes did not stray from them.
Herbert loved the feel of Cyndi against him. She was a lost piece of his soul, and now he was whole. Their bodies fit so perfectly together, and her warmth ignited his very being. Cyndi did not want to make love in front of Bethany. But when they touched they were overwhelmed with desire and she conceded to let him silently slide inside her. Playfully he pushed back and forth, quietly, methodically. They giggled at their little secret until Cyndi pulsated in pleasure and Herbert exploded inside her. Leaving himself within her, the two fell fast asleep.
In the morning Cyndi went off in search of something for breakfast. Herbert had tossed and turned all night long, plagued by internal demons and the hard ground that lay beneath him. Bethany eyed Herbert as he slept. She wondered, “What is it like in the arms of a man who could save you?”
Slowly she lifted herself up, walking quietly to where he lay. She crouched down, watching him breathe in and out. Lifting his arm up, she slid herself in and snuggled against him. Running her hands across his chest, she leaned in and kissed him on the lips while her hands cascaded down and began to fondle his penis. Her eyes were wide as she explored it, felt it harden in her hands. Herbert, still sleepy, returned the kiss eagerly, smirking at Cyndi’s early return. Grabbing his member in her hand Bethany began to feverishly rub it against her sex, breathing “Take me Herbert!”
Herbert’s eyes creaked open, “Bethany!”
“Yes Herbert!” She pressed her body to his.
“Stop!” he pushed her away.
“Why?” She tried to sound sweet, seductive.
“Bethany… Cyndi and I… I don’t want anyone else.”
Her eyes began to well up. She pushed back into him. "Take us both, Herbert!”
Herbert stood up, “Bethany… I…” Why not take them both?
Bethany grabbed his arousal and pulled it into her mouth, sucking vigorously. It seemed to be the right thing to do. Herbert closed his eyes, he felt invincible. She maneuvered her tongue around his shaft, her soft full lips caressing him, he felt his knees grow week. She took him in deep, he could feel the confines of her throat, so eager to please him.
He pushed her away, images of Cyndi haunting him. “Dammit, go away, get away from me!”
Bethany reached out to grab him and he screamed louder, pushing her into the dirt. He stood there, in shock from the force of his rage, watching the girl run off. Where had he been just now? That nightmare time in Jeremiah's clutches—hell, he was free of them now and the little girl just wanted love; what was wrong with him? Sitting down in the dirt, shocked by his anger, Herbert let his head rest in his hands while his member sank in frustration.
Bethany found Cyndi waist deep in the pond, a long spear in her hand, aiming to catch fish. Bethany became hysterical as she approached. Cyndi turned, tried to find the cause of the commotion. Seeing the girl weeping and shaking, she ran to comfort her, “Bethany, what’s wrong?”
“There’s nowhere to go, no one to help us!”
“Calm down sweet one, Herbert and I are here.”
“Herbert!” Bethany screamed his name like it had physically hurt her, “He’s a man. They don’t help, they hunt, they kill!”
“He’s not like that…”
“How well do you know him Cyndi?” Bethany sobbed in Cyndi's arms. Her eyes darted back and forth, considering.
“I trust him with my life.”
“And he knows that. Why else would he demand that I take his manhood in my mouth?” Bethany stilled herself. It was a risk.
Cyndi didn’t know what to say. Herbert? Would he? Why would he do this?
Bethany ran her hands along the outline of Cyndi’s face, “We are sisters. They are men, to them we are nothing.” She stopped for a moment. “I had forgotten how beautiful you were.” She leaned in and kissed Cyndi, lightly on the lips. “You are back in the woods, Cyndi, we don’t need a man here.” Again she kissed, this time parting Cyndi’s lips with her tongue, her hands caressing Cyndi's sleek wet body. “They will always betray us, we know that. Did he tell you how the Elders get so old?”
Cyndi nodded her head. She was confused, Herbert, would he? What? The Elders?
Bethany whispered, “To appease the Hunters they fatten us like cows for slaughter.”
Cyndi’s eyes opened wide, she could not speak. She pictured the rosy face of Elder Catherine, spooning up that lovely hot cereal, saying, "Eat, eat!" Cyndi shook the image from her head. Herbert, Elders, appeasing hunters... what was all of this? It couldn't be. Haven nurtured girls. It was the deepest truth.
“Maybe Herbert wants to create his own herd?” Cyndi's face clouded, but before she could open her mouth to deny it, Bethany sank down, gently spread Cyndi’s sex and begin to lick ever so gently. "Sh, Cyndi. Sh—everything will be fine."
Cyndi pushed the smaller girl away and said, "No, Bethany. Look at me." The younger girl pouted up at her.
"Don't you like it, now you've had a man? Whore! Whore!"
Cyndi shook her head and tried to caress Bethany, but the younger girl backed away, snatched up her bag of clothes and ran into the aspens.
Cyndi opened her mouth to call Bethany back, then stopped. Let her go. The woods would shield her, poor confused thing. All that talk of herds, and betrayal--Cyndi tried to free her mind of it, sing healing songs. Would he? No. She simply did not believe it. She walked back to camp and found Herbert huddled on the ground.
"Herbert?" she spoke softly, saw him flinch, and then sag as he recognized her. His Cyndi. Really her. Cyndi knelt beside him, and offered comfort. "It's just the two of us again. It's alright now."
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Deep within the belly of the Hunter's mighty beast, Michael led his band, Marta’s head resting in his lap, Trevor dreaming of awards, and Carl’s finger itchy to turn the camera on. In the haze of the morning they drove across an open field, Michael winding through the paths and into the woods. He nudged Marta, “Wake up dear.”
She sat up. Trevor looked around. All these trees, goodness--it all looked alike to him.
“There, Michael!” Marta pointed out the window.
“What?” Trevor couldn’t help himself. “Carl roll camera!”
Marta explained, “The bushes, they form the sign of sanctuary, the name of our village.”
Michael jumped out, his party close on his heels. Looking deep into the camera, he squared his jaw and spoke. “No one has ever seen a village before. Today I, Michael Boardman, will take you there.”
He grabbed some rope from the back, and then Marta’s arm. She smiled up eagerly.
“Trevor, help me.” Marta was confused as they hoisted her up onto the vehicle’s large fender and leaned her against the brush guard, forcing her legs apart. Michael began to tie her there.
“Michael? Darling?”
He smiled up at her, and jumped onto the fender, and smiled as he tied her arms tight. “As we drive into Sanctuary and herd the meat, I want them to look at the one who betrayed them.” He turned to Carl, “How’s that for drama?”
Marta tried to control the tears pouring down her face as the men jumped in. Carl hung out the window to get everything he could on film. Michael gunned the mighty beast hard and then engaged it as smoke surrounded them. They were going in with Marta splayed out on the hood like a trophy kill. Inside the Beast, the men grinned at each other and hollered in unison, "Into the fucking Wild!"