War of Shadows

A Planned Escape

Chapter 11

The pain is everywhere. I’ve grown accustomed to the aches in my bones when I wake up, the throb of my open wounds on my back, wrists, and face protesting my movements. The light above me is blinding, and it takes a moment to adjust.

No.

Memories of my feeble fight against Red Beard flood my mind, which is running at a mile a minute against the pounding as I sit up. My shoulder had been popped back into place, barking at the shift of my position. I’m still naked. There’s an ache where—

The tears cascade down my face.

I couldn’t stop him. He-

I muffle my cry with my good hand. If he hears me, if he knows I’m awake…

I curl myself into the corner, tucking my body into a tight ball, chasing some semblance of protection in this hellscape. How did I get here? So much has changed in so little time and I haven’t even had the chance to process anything. I just lock it up. I know it’s a poor coping mechanism, but I lock it all up and shove it into the recess of my mind. I don’t want to open it back up, and I need to figure out what the f**k is going on.

Is Eli coming for me? Is Eli to blame? The screams of me calling for his help ring clear in my head, but he never came. I guess I never considered that he had been hurt too, but would his father harm him? Eli had shared stories of his father being cold and harsh at times, but I can’t comprehend the idea of someone hurting their child.

He would have helped. He’s going to find me.

I trace my shaking fingers over the mark on my neck and my heart twists painfully in my chest. Does he know what they have done to me? Eli, the man who sneered at any other man that approached me, the man who somehow found me after I ran away from him, begged me to give him a chance and swore he would never let anyone hurt me. No, Eli will come for me and when he does, they’ll all pay.

The door creaks open and my head snaps up. I can’t take any more, not right now. I can’t fight right now.

Red Beard leans in and tosses a stack of fabric and a couple of protein bars in front of me. I catch sight of the marks I left on his arm and the angry red streaks across his face.

“Clean up and get dressed, we’re docking.”

Did I hear him correctly? Docking. My pulse thrums with hope. I could have a chance to run, if I even get a split second of a window to run then I will. I’ll figure out the rest later. Hope blooms in my chest.

“Nu-uh,” he clicks, and taps the side of his neck before turning his finger to me. “No matter where you run, that little w***e mark will lead them right to you. Be a good girl, you don’t wanna make your little boyfriend mad.” With that, the door slams shut.

He’ll find me.

For the first time, I’m not sure if that thought calms me.

********************************

Red beard keeps a slimy grip on the back of my neck as he guides me off of the ramp of the ship and onto a private dock. I fight the urge to tremble under his touch and swallow the bile forcing its way up.

I had tenderly pulled the thin fabric of the sweater over my shoulders this morning, gentle to work around my still aching injuries. I had ripped off a strip from the collar to use as a tie and quickly braided my hair over my shoulder and fluffed it to hide my mark. I wasn’t sure if everyone knew about it, but I’m not going to take any chances: the less people that knew about it, the better.

My pants fit loosely and the shoes were a size too small, but I could make it work. Once I get away from them, I’ll be able to make adjustments and maybe find someone generous enough to loan me some different clothing.

The salt in the air is heavy, and the chilled breeze soothes the burning of the cut on my face. I wish they had given me something a little thicker, but of course I bite my tongue. My wrists rub painfully against the ties and I try not to jostle them as I walk up the docks. It’s quiet, and the small army of men that lead us across a green pasture into the woods scan the area warily.

Whoever they think I am must be important, and so far I’ve gathered from the sneers that I’m not good, and I’m being delivered to someone very important. Are they afraid of me? No, they wouldn’t lay a hand on me if I were. They seem keen on keeping me alive, but as a prisoner.

I’m ripped from my thoughts as a bird cuts gracefully in front of me out of seemingly nowhere, so close that the tips of its wings flick across my neck. Before I could flinch, it’s nothing but a black spot against the cloudless sky.

I lurch forward as Red Beard pushes me. “Move,” he hisses.

*********

I'm grateful for the protein bar and dried fruit I was given earlier, but they do nothing to ease the shaking in my legs and the pains in my gut after an hour of trekking through the woods. We keep moving in a consistent direction, but there’s no path to lead our way. Is it wishful thinking to hope these idiots know where they’re going? Nobody has said much, and I feel like I need to obey an unsaid order to stay as quiet as possible. Everyone seems to jump at every creak from the trees.

“How far are we going?” I murmur to nobody in particular. I need to know my window without raising suspicion. A scrawny man in front of me twists to eye me. “Two days.”

I have one chance to do it right, I refuse to stay a single minute longer than I have to. I would rather die than spend a night with Red Beard, just because there are others around doesn’t mean I’m safe. In fact, it’s very much the worst-case scenario. I try not to let my thoughts wander, I need to stay focussed on the now and how to get away and I can’t afford to unlock that box of horrors I’ve shoved everything into. I take a deep breath and reach inside my mind to shove that box closed until I’m sure it won’t pour out at the wrong moment.

I’ve been focusing on making my steps quiet all day, learning where to pinpoint my weight and where to step. It’s not soundless, but it’ll have to work.

I glance around at the small group of men around us. If I need to, I’ll be able to take on the scrawny one myself. That leaves Red Beard and two other decently built men. The rest of the crew had followed us through the first couple of miles, then fell back. For whatever reason, I’m not sure, but it works in my favor so I’m not going to question it- it’s just less I need to worry about.

Red Beard stands only about a head taller than I, but the other two men are taller and clearly take care of the physical labor. I don’t stand a chance against them if I have to fight, but the disadvantage of their brutish size is their lack of agility. To fit around the trees in thicker areas, they end up twisting their shoulders to fit, so if we end up in a chase I’ll be able to fit some distance between us. I’m relying a lot on adrenaline to get me through, but I have no choice. Once we get to wherever the hell it is that they’re taking me, I won’t get an opportunity to hide or to run.

I glance up to the gray sky on the horizon in front of us. It feels as if the gods were throwing me a bone, offering extra coverage for my escape. The storm will surely cover any lingering noise I make while I escape.

How long will it take for Eli to find me, once I get away? I don’t even know how to tell him about-

I swallow the lump in my throat and ignore the burn in my chest.

I’m okay.

I shove it down.

I just need to push a little father, I run tonight.

By the time the sun begins to set and the clouds roll in, I’ve run through the plan maybe a million times. They’ve given me some jerky, nuts, and some water from Red Beard’s pack to keep me on my feet. I noted everything, including the pyramid of power between the group.

“Let’s set up camp.” Red Beard’s voice makes me jump, the first noise I’ve heard in hours besides the buzz and chirping of the lively woods. “Cal, come with me. You two make yourself useful.”

Once Red Beard and the man I now know is Cal set their bags against a tree, I squat down in front of them. My hands are still tied behind my back, to my frustration, but we’ll make it work.

As if on cue, the scrawny man stomps over to me and rips a knife through the ropes between my wrists. I wait, watching him. It could be a trick, and I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize myself. No, I need to be the submissive mouse a little longer.

For all my planning this elaborate escape, it doesn’t seem good enough now that my window of opportunity is nearing. Having my hands and legs free will definitely help, but a seed of doubt starts to take root.

I don’t have a choice. They need to deliver me alive, so even if they do catch me, they can’t kill me for trying to run.

“If you run, you die,” Scrawny says bluntly.

“You need me alive,” I retort with a taunting smile.

“Not by us, you have no idea what’s in these woods. You aren’t home anymore, sweets, why do you think everyone else refused to finish the trip?” With that, he walks off to help the second brute set up two tents.

Shit.

Absolutely none of my plans took into account the natural threats I’ll face when I make it out. If these were the only people willing to trek out here, who do I think I am, thinking I can magically make my way to a nearby town for help? I can almost feel any hope I had deflate inside of me.I have no supplies, no food, and no clue. I don’t even know how to make a fire, for Christ’s sake. Maybe I’ll be able to snatch one of their bags, but the odds of me snagging one with all of the supplies I need is slim to none.

Nonetheless, it’s a chance I need to take.