Posted by hisdinner on March 30, 2005 at 17:36:31:
3-30-05
Chapter 10
Emily knelt at the edge of the stream. She twisted a flannel shirt in her hands, squeezing out the water, held it to her nose, grimaced, and dipped it into the water again. Frannie sat beside her, chattering away about her husband 'til Emily thought she'd lose her mind. She drifted away to thoughts of her man, of last night, of every night. There were no loving caresses, yet he always touched her. Cupping her rear while he stood next to her, rubbing her back, even late at night she felt his fingers testing her flesh, lightly pinching the meat between her ribs. The sound of him licking his lips would pierce through the cold nights, the way he would hold her tight, yes for warmth, but more. Last night she had wakened to find him rubbing his hands along her thighs. “Frank? You’re going to eat me, aren’t you?”
“Easy girl, don’t be getting all worked up.”
“I feel you Frank, always checking me, squeezing…”
“Just lay your head down and go back to sleep.”
“Don’t I make you happy?”
“Shhh,” he pushed her head down and began to stroke her hair, “Emily, you’re always worrying, not good for you, girl.”
“Frank, what can I do? If I give you a baby, is that it?”
“Aw Emily,” He caressed her face, began to play with her mouth, “That would make me happy sure, but either way.”
“Either way, you eat me?” It wasn’t so much a question but a realization.
“No need to be worrying now, Emily.” he opened her mouth and slipped himself in. Emily took him in eagerly, watching his eyes as he held out her arm and pinched the muscles that these men craved so deeply.
Morning, washing, drudgery. She started to daydream, imagining herself roasting, spinning on the spit alive while Frank stared. It was Frannie’s voice that brought her back.
"--And Donald says he'll build us a real house, well, a cabin for me and the baby."
Emily regarded her. "What did he say about Cyndi?"
Frannie scowled and got to her feet, grunting, her belly so big. "Since Sarney? Donald won't hear a word about that girl. Wants her dead, no two ways about it. You know they hunt her like game." Frannie's eyes widened and she clutched her belly, and the ground beneath her dampened. "It's coming! The baby's coming! Get Donald! Oh god Emily, I am so scared!"
Five hours later, Emily held Frannie's hand and sang the only songs she knew. Mothers never gave birth in front of the others, they had a special house closer to the Necessaries. Emily had only heard the birthing songs faintly when she sneaked in close. She didn't know the words, she just hummed and smoothed the hair back from Frannie's brow. She had no idea what to do, but Frank and Donald seemed to be old hands at this. Frank had disappeared about an hour ago, but Donald kept close, just outside the tent. Emily wondered where they'd learned about birthing. She wondered where the children were.
"I need a smoke," Donald said. He sat on a log outside and smoked a foul-smelling pipe. Inside the tent, Frannie panted, straining, in the grips of labor pains.
"It's coming, oh my god!" She screamed and arched off the bedclothes. Emily didn't need to summon Donald, he came in and knelt to catch the child. Frannie was on a low cot, straining, panting screaming, pushing her newborn into the world.
Donald's face held high expectation as he leaned forward, careful to support the baby's head and shoulders, using a rough towel to keep his hands from slipping. He held the baby up in the lantern light, and his face fell. "A girl."
The baby started squalling, strong and red-faced. Donald laid the child on her mother's belly and walked outside. Frannie called after him, but he didn't acknowledge her sobs. Outside, Emily could hear three voices. "Another fucking girl," he growled. "If you don't take her, she's going in the river, Diane. Can't be feeding so many mouths."
Frannie held the baby to her, but her eyes never left the opening of the tent. "Donald? Donald! The next one will be a boy, I promise you, I promise!" she wailed, hardly feeling the squirming child at her breast. Emily watched Frannie hold her baby. "What will you call her, Frannie?" She smiled and tucked a soft shawl around the baby girl.
Frannie looked up at Emily, shaking her head. "Call her? I can't keep her. No sense naming what I can't have." She sobbed and looked away from Emily.
"Why can't you keep her? What do you mean, she's a girl, we keep our sisters, nurture the sweet soft ones, it is good! The village grows!" Emily quoted the part of the Coming Home song she remembered, when the new Mothers came back to the village with their baby girls.
Frannie whispered, "That's where she's going, Emily, god, don't you understand anything? Diane will come, she'll take her!" Frannie was too weak to speak. She held her baby tight and watched the tent flap. Emily wanted to scream. Nothing made sense any more. She'd seen the Elder with her own eyes—Diane was already here. She must have come with Frank. How could she tell Frannie? But no! It just couldn't be.
"Why would Mother Diane be here? Talking to men, that's—that's blasphemy. Taking babies from their mothers? Why? I don't believe you, Frannie—maybe she's here to save us?" But all the while she spoke, Emily felt queasy—she'd heard them outside. She'd seen Diane nod when Donald demanded that she take the baby. She'd seen Diane touch Frank's arm. Emily's head hurt. Everything she knew was changing, it made no sense.
Frannie gently rocked her little girl. "Donald says it's how it ever was. Donald says, "Village raises girls for food. Hunters harvest them. Boy babies go to the city, and girls go too, but they go later on, as food." Emily felt the blood drain from her face. Frannie spoke this awfulness as if it were a chant, some truth someone taught their little ones. Is this what the boys learned in the cities? Lies? Was every part of this world set against the soft, the good--the girls?
Emily's head spun. She remembered the night she was cast out of Haven, shunned. Diane had been the one. And now, Diane was here? "Frannie? So.. it's true? What Bethany said—what she said the Elders do?"
Frannie touched the wispy blond hair on her daughter's head. "Emily? Each time a Mother has a boy, what do they do? They give them to the City! Girls stay in the villages to be raised up tasty, sleek and unsullied! They teach us to be pure and good. Good, like good oaties, good like berries—good like livestock in a special farm, that's what my Donald says!" She looked down at the baby, sleeping now against her breast.
Outside the voices faded. Emily parted the tent flaps in time to see Mother Diane enter Frank's tent. Donald followed. All three were smiling, and Diane had opened her clothes. "Oh!" She ducked inside again, heart pounding. "Frannie. Diane is right outside."
Frannie sat up, causing the infant to squall. She rocked her daughter, weeping. "I can't let them have her, Emmie. They can't have my baby girl."
Emily peered out at Frank's tent again. She heard muffled laughter, then someone lit a lantern and its glow backlit the three occupants. She saw Diane fall backward, legs stretched high over a burly man's shoulders. The other man's form blocked her view. She pulled the tent flaps closed. Emily's body was thrumming with adrenaline. This was her best chance. Their best chance. Now.
"Frannie, we can run now, we can get away. Diane is—she's busy with the men. You rest, I'll grab some things, we can run, we can find Cyndi… please, before they come?"
Emily started grabbing things, stuffing them into a carry bag.
Frannie wept and shook her head. "I can't, Emmie. I can't. I have my Donald now and—"
Emily felt hot rage curl her hands to fists. "Donald just threatened to drown your baby in the river if Diane would not take her! You want to stay with him?" She wanted to slap Frannie, to shake reason into her. How could she? Emily wanted to scream.
Frannie's lip quivered and she whispered, "I can't help it. But not my-- not my baby—" She wrapped the infant snugly in the shawl and motioned Emily close. Emily sank to her knees as Frannie held the baby out to her.
"Oh, Frannie. Oh. No."
"Yes. Take her. Take her and go. Now." Frannie wept and trembled, wrapping her arms tight around herself. "You have to Emmie! In the name of all that's soft and good—get out of here! Save her."
"How will I feed her? How can we---?" Both girls heard raucous laughter from Frank's tent. Emily peered out into the night. Now it looked as if Diane were bent almost double, one man behind her, thrusting as the other pushed himself into her face. Emily stared at Frannie and the baby.
"Okay." Emily took the baby from Frannie, took up the bag of things she'd found in the tent. Some food, matches, a canteen for water. How would she feed the baby? Find Cyndi, Cyndi could help them. Emily sank to the floor again, and hugged Frannie. The baby nestled between them, snug and warm. "For you, Frannie. We'll come back if—"
Frannie squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. Then they were gone, Emily and a little nameless girl child. Frannie pressed her face into the sodden bedclothes and howled..
Emily ran to the river, one arm shielding the tiny child, the other thrust before her to fend off branches in her path. Look for the Lost, she thought. They have to be here. Find someone with a cow. The child will wake soon and then what will I do? She ran on through the night, along the bank. No Haven now.
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“I have never begged anyone before…”
“Never?”
“Walter, I am begging you. Join the hunt.” Trevor stared at the big man behind the soft leather desk.
“If I do?”
“You’re the king Walter, Michael will have to acknowledge that. Once and for all.”
Walter sucked his cigar long and deep, “That self serving bastard. Good point, but I want the runaways. Those Salvation shitheads can go fuck themselves.”
“Whatever you want, Walter.”
“Trevor, I’m gonna hunt this clerk and his pet down. It’ll be a whole new show. I’m gonna take this fucking clerk, place him in a room with his fat cow tied down, spread eagle in front of him. He’s gonna watch as men file through pounding that sweet things ass. One Camera on her as she takes the beating, the other as he weeps and watches his girl fucked into hamburger. Then we’re gonna bring in a skinning expert, he’s gonna teach this Noodleman how to skin the pig, with his own hands. Then he is gonna baste the raw meat, and put the apple in her mouth himself. He’s gonna watch her cook, and slice her and serve her at a dinner party in his honour! Now that is fucking entertainment!!”
Herbert and Cyndi found a cave just upstream from the place they'd met. Herbert made Cyndi rest while he slipped out to fill their canteens and forage for some soft grass for bedding. His body was abraded with rope and red with sun, and he'd never felt better in his life. He slipped back into the cave and sank to the floor where his love lay sleeping. He cupped the back of her head and slipped soft grass beneath it. Her eyes opened and she held his face between her hands and whispered, "Herbert."
She kissed him soft and hard, she slipped her hands beneath his clothes and stripped him, and he pawed hers off, and knelt and took her in his arms, her legs encircling him, held fast, Herbert deep inside her and they moved in muffled cries and urgent gasps. "My love," he breathed into her hair. "Oh yes," she said. They tumbled down a little later, spent, and slept for hours.
The next day they lay low and watched a solitary man walk past in mid afternoon. He was headed toward Haven. "That's Frank," Cyndi said. "The leader of the ones who stole me away from you."
Herbert bristled, and every bit of him wanted to race down the slope and jump that man and slit his throat. "No, Herbert," Cyndi whispered. "Let him go. We have to find the others, the Lost."
Herbert kept his thoughts to himself. The Lost. He wondered if they were real. This place was overrun with Hunters. There was no way to hide from those guys with all their electronic surveillance gear. How could a group of them be living in some secret village without ever having a hunter stumble on them? Even those incompetents, the Recovery guys, if they could catch someone… Herbert shook his head. He had Cyndi. He didn't really care about anyone else.
They slipped down to the river at sunset to bathe and drink and forage for food. And make love. Cyndi was unquenchable as Herbert was. Herbert giggled, “We need to get those manacles off you before you knock me out!” She laughed, being extra careful using only her fingertips to caress him. The slightest hint of her against him and then she was wrapped around him, nuzzling his neck and pleading, "Just once more?" They giggled in the tall grass, ate berries, and loved once more.
It was full dark when Herbert was awakened by a rustling through the trees. Cyndi was already awake, flat to the ground beside him. Her hand steadied Herbert, urging stillness, caution. A slight form emerged from the thin pines by the river. It was a girl, was it the one called Cassie? Yes! A second, smaller girl emerged. She looked like Stephie. Cyndi almost called out, but Herbert shook his head.
"Megan's crazy, girls belong in Haven, I don't care what she says. I love the Elders and I want my bed back!" Cassie whined and marched along the riverbank.
"But Cassie? You heard what Jamie taught us. The elders fattened us for food." Her voice quavered as she trotted to keep up.
Cassie frowned and pulled the younger girl along. "I don't care. I don't like it out here, I want Haven. I want oaties. Don't you miss your oaties, too?"
Stephie pouted, felt her belly grumble. "Mm-hm!" she shouted, and they hummed the oaty song together as they hiked.
Herbert held Cyndi close, felt her sobs. "I miss it too."
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Jamie woke as the moon reached its zenith. Time to watch, let Megan rest. She climbed out of her bed and emerged from the cave. Down by the river, the cows lowed. They sounded sleepy, content. There was lots of fresh grass there. Jamie smiled. This might not be such a bad place to stay. She wondered if they would ever feel safe again. Every other day or so, they woke to find another girl or two had wandered off. They had talked about it yesterday.
"Not wandered. They went back to Haven, you know it, Jamie. Face it," Megan said.
"But why, how could they—they saw! They heard, they—" Jamie shook her head.
Megan and Jamie walked along the river, away from the little ones' ears. Megan said, "They miss Haven. Don't you? They don't want to think of the bad things. They want things to be the way they were. Before."
Jamie took Megan's hand. "But they can't be, the place was torn apart, the lies! We saw them—the Elders, the Hunter!"
Megan shook her head. "That doesn't matter. The ones that leave us? They don't want to know the truth. They want to dream and smile and please each other until one day, they just –disappear. And remember that burning in your belly, when you thought of hunters? They want that back. It felt so good. Admit it. You felt it too—didn't you?"
Jamie shivered in the dark and thought about it. She'd felt it, too—yes. She felt it less each day, and now it was obvious that the oats, the food was tainted with all the things that made them such lovely, sleepy, dreamy girls. This crowd they watched grew more contentious and whiney every day. They missed soft beds, they missed routines. They missed oblivion.
Jamie reached the outpost of their camp. Megan waved to her from atop the sentry post, a large limb on a pine. She clambered down and the two embraced, not speaking for a time. "Quiet tonight?" Jamie asked.
Megan nodded. "Thankfully. No hunters, no girls trying to slip by."
"Would you stop them, if you caught one?" Jamie asked.
Megan shook her head. "I'd ask them to stay and make a better place for all us girls."
Jamie nodded. " I'd remind them that the elders fattened us for food.."
A high shrill cry echoed through the forest. The girls tensed. A wild cat? They searched all around. It came again, but weaker, plaintive. "So sad!" Megan spoke.
"Is that a baby?" Jamie asked. "It is, it sounds like a baby!" Megan prayed it wasn't some horrible trick. They ran to the edge of the riverbank and into the trees.
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The girls sat inside their cages, tears streaking down their faces.
“Eat your oaties,” Marion cooed as she held a heaping spoonful of brown oats for the dark haired girl.
“Please Mother, no more.” Celia was the first to speak, “I don’t want to!”
“Silly girls, you love your oaties.” She grabbed Celia's hair and pulled her face to the cage bars, admiring the young pretty face leaning in and licking the tears running down her cheeks, “Here I am sweetening your feed with extra honey and you girls want to make yourselves all salty.”
“We watched you kill Elizabeth!” the blonde Zoey finally spoke up, accusing Marion of the most unspeakable act these girls could imagine. But they'd seen her do it.
Marion giggled, as she remembered Elizabeth. She thought she had hit her square on the head but the girl refused to die. Stupid pig enraged her as she tried to crawl away, she straddled her in her legs and then brought the ax down three or four more times until her head was bashed into an unrecognizable mess. She stared back at Michael who beamed at his forest goddess covered in the blood of her prey.
Her memory was interrupted by Zoey. “How can you do this, Mother Marion--offer us to these men?”
“You silly cows. What did you think as you lead your idyllic lives eating oaties, running and playing all day? Barely noticing when members of your tribe disappeared? The haze is gone now, little veal, the reality is you are meat, and I will slaughter you both and serve you to my man.”
Her long arms reached in and snagged Zoey’s arm, pulling her tight against the cage. “So soft and tender. Yes you, my plump little pig, you will be next. Although this sweet little one will follow soon after.” She purred and as Zoey opened her mouth to protest she crammed the overloaded spoon of oats into her mouth, smiling as the girl gagged and yet still swallowed.
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Herbert smacked the metal that encircled Cyndi’s wrists with the stone, finally removing the last manacle. “There, my love.”
She wrapped her arms around him and held him close, “We have to move quick, those men will be coming soon.”
“Where do we go, Cyndi? There is no sanctuary in this world. There are no Lost, we are the lost, and sooner or later someone will find us. Then what? I watch as some idiots rape and slaughter you?!”
She kissed him on his mouth, running her hand down his arm, then grasping the stone he had discarded and returning it to his hand. Her other hand stroked his face, she smiled at him and turned away, “Now Herbert, kill me.”
“What?!”
“I can’t watch, but what other choice do we have? If I have to die. then let it be by your hands. Now while my thoughts are happy. I will not watch you lose hope!” She bent her head down awaiting the blow, “Quickly Herbert. Please.”
He clenched the stone and stared at the back of her head. Slowly she turned and faced him.
“How could I ask this of you? You couldn’t kill me just as I know I could not kill you. I loved you Herbert as I never imagined I could love before."
A tear escaped from his eye as the realization of the word “loved” hit him. He saw Cyndi bring the sharp piece of metal up, reaching out as she brought it to her neck. He dove into her, knocking her onto the ground. The metal piece fell away almost gracefully as she began to struggle.
“No Herbert, I cannot watch us fail!”
“Stop it Cyndi, Stop it!” He held her arms pinned to her side, holding his weight on her,
“So you would leave me alone?! An outcast of both worlds? Do you think I want to live without you?!”
She began to wail, “Herbert. I don’t know what you want!”
“I want you.” He exhaled, “Please Cyndi, don’t leave me.”
She worked her hands into his, “Never Herbert. Never.”
He fought her embrace, choking back the emotion that had collected in his throat. She felt his anger, his desperation; she wanted to make it all right. He relented and she enveloped him, a bandage to his wound.
“Damn that is a fine piece of meat you got there Herb. I can see why you were so secretive.” Ron smiled while Gob bit down on a roasted arm. “Hope ya don’t mind stepping away so we can get a better look.
Herbert looked at the two grinning idiots, Ron’s gun aimed right at his head. He separated from Cyndi and slowly began to stand.
“Stand up girl!” Gob called out, spitting pieces of girl meat.
Cyndi rose, defiantly staring at them both.
“Damn, that is a nice piece of ass!” Gob howled, “Turn around sweetie!”
Cyndi did as told.
“Goblin, we are going to be famous.”
He turned to his friend who stared back in shock as a thick red line on his neck began to weep. When Gob tried to speak he gurgled and quickly dropped to his knees, clutching at his throat. Ron turned savagely to Herbert, “You son of a bitch!!!” Aiming the gun at him.
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Wally stood at the edge of the forest waiting for Trevor to ready the camera. He smelled the air, thinking it was a good day for a hunt. Somewhere out there was his prize…both of them. Actually make it three, for the look on Michael’s face itself would be priceless. He was growing impatient with Trevor when a loud crack in the distance told him there would be no time for set up, the hunt was on.
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Marian stared at Michael as he checked his weapons. Catching the sight of Carl coming out of the truck, the screams that had preceded his exit let her know he favored the blonde. She relished each scream, the cries to “Mother Marian!” each long whine made her insides burn, her thoughts turning to her hunter, their future, she would amaze him.
Michael leaned into kiss her, “Carl’s done, let’s get going.” He watched her walk away, her tight ass so prominent under her silky sundress. She was an amazing woman, a advancement in the race, he mused, so far above the average meat that had graced his table in the past. So much to learn from her, this hunt had dragged on long enough; it was…he stopped, was that a gunshot?
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“I told you, you were too soft on that girl!” Donald screamed at Frank.
Frank knew he was, but she was a good girl, until this. “Don’t you worry about nothin’-- she’ll be roasting by nightfall,” he assured his brother.
“Bring the child to the village when you are done.” Diane was cold to the two of them now, but the darkest glare was saved for Frannie whose muffled bawling was interrupting her thoughts. “What kind of a mother lets her child go off without her?”
Frannie tried to avoid her gaze, not seeing Donald grab her hair and lift her up, “Where is the child?!” Frannie screamed but no words were understood. It was a gunshot in the distance that saved her from being beaten right then and there.
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Jamie and Megan stared at the screaming infant in the girl’s arms. Emily looked back at them with desperation, “Help me, she’s hungry, I don’t know what to do!”
Jamie gingerly took the screaming babe from her arms, “There, there little one, come with me, I'll fetch the cow.”
Megan stared at the girl, “Emily?” Wrapping her arm around her she led her along behind Jamie.
Emily shuddered by the fire, letting the heat seep into her bones. She watched as Jamie created a makeshift nipple and fed the little one, while the other girls gathered around to watch the baby. She recognized some of the faces, and looking back she saw Jamie and Megan smiling at her. Jamie spoke. “Good to see you again, Emily.”
Suddenly the sky roared with thunder, yet it echoed with a sound that Emily realized was far from natural.
The gunshot echoed, and every living thing seemed to hold its breath.