Chapter 9
Justin stood in the food line, staring around at the milling masses. The general atmosphere of the Detention Center was one of despondence, which wasn’t being helped by the sudden chilly drizzle that had begun earlier that morning. It wasn’t a heavy rain, not enough to raise people’s hopes that the drought that had ravaged the country for years might be a thing of the past. Instead, it was just enough to make people miserable and turn the dusty ground into a pit of mud. Nearly a hundred thousand people were crammed inside the perimeter fences of the “temporary” encampment. Most of them had lost everything.
He glanced over at Alyse, who was frowning and patting her pockets. “What’s up?”
Alyse grimaced and looked at him guiltily. “I forgot my vouchers on the table,” she murmured.
Justin bit back a sigh of frustration. They had been shivering in the line for nearly an hour already, and the line was getting longer by the minute. They had a decent place, only a hundred or so people from the front of the line, and leaving would guarantee that they missed getting anything for a second day in a row.
“I’ve got mine,” he said. “We can make it stretch.”
Alyse shook her head and then pulled an errant strand of soggy dark hair out of her eyes. “You and I both know that the rations they provide are barely large enough for one person, let alone two… or four.” She glanced up the line, which was inching forward almost imperceptibly. “We’ve got time. I can make it to the room and back in five minutes.”
Justin frowned. “Look, Alyse…”
She sighed in exasperation. “Justin, I’ll be fine. It’s only five minutes away. Just watch the kids.” Her tone brooked no argument, and before he could respond, she turned and headed back toward the Family Block.
Justin muttered darkly under his breath and turned his attention back to the slow-moving line. James, standing beside him, watched
Alyse disappear into the crowd. Beside him, Brigitte turned to look at Justin. “Where is Mama going?”
“She had to go and get something from the room,” Justin replied gently. “She’ll be right back. Now hold onto my hand, Brigitte.”
James blinked as rain dripped into his eyes. “I’m going to go back with her,” he announced suddenly.
Justin glanced down at James. “She’ll be okay, kiddo. It’s only a five minute walk.”
James shook his head. “I’ll be back,” he promised. “I’m just going to watch out for her.”
The look in his eyes caused Justin to pause for just a moment. “James, it isn’t safe for you to go alone.”
James glared at him. “It’s safer for me than it is for her. I’ve seen the men around here watch her, even if you haven’t noticed. I’m going.”
Justin reached out to grab his son’s shoulder, but James ducked away and disappeared into the crowd of people. Justin turned to follow, but stopped. As much as he wanted to, the food was important. James would be fine. Alyse would be fine. It was a five minute walk, for crying out loud.
Even so, he couldn’t shake a sudden sense of fear that thrilled through his spine as he inched forward another step.
*
James decided to make a game of it. While there were literally thousands of people trudging through the mud, after months at the cabin, with all of the snow, he knew what Alyse’s footprints looked like. The hiking boots she wore had a distinctive outer ridge, and she invariably walked with more pressure on her heels. He’d had too much free time at the cabin not to find things to do, and after that first hunt with his father, he’d realized he liked tracking animals. So, he crouched down in the mud and looked for the distinctive footprint.
He spotted it almost right away. Knowing which way Alyse was going made things much easier, and the mud held the tracks really well, far better than spring-time snow. While some of the footprints were obscured by the trample of feet, enough of them remained to make following her trail relatively easy.
Like everyone else, she had to meander a little to move around crowded areas. At one point the trail led past a rubbish heap, where he noticed a piece of lumber that would make a perfect make-shift bat. James glanced at the piece of two-by-two contemplatively. He could probably find a few other boys and get a baseball game going, once the rain quit, he mused. Shrugging, he grabbed the stick. It was long enough to use as a walking stick, too. He grinned and scanned the mud for the next track, finding it without any trouble. It was almost too easy.
He caught a glimpse of her dark hair a few hundred yards ahead of him, and he was about to slow down when someone ducked out from between a pair of utility sheds right beside her, grabbed her, and yanked her into the shadows of the buildings. She screamed, but no one around her even slowed down. Instead, almost everyone near where she had been sped up, looking in another direction.
James hesitated, glancing back the way he had come. His father was only a few hundred yards back the way he had come. He considered running to get him, but he knew that it would take too long. He burst into a sprint, heading for where her attacker had dragged her.
He slowed a little as he drew near the narrow gap between the sheds, clutching the piece of lumber he had picked up tight to his chest. His heart was racing as he stepped around the corner.
No one was there.
He immediately saw the marks in the mud, though. Alyse’s attacker had dragged her backwards, and her boots had left two troughs in the damp earth. He closed his eyes for a moment, and caught a rough, low voice coming from very back of the utility sheds.
“… cut you, bitch. I don’t really give a fuck if you’re bleeding out while I fuck you.”
James darted to the back of the shed and poked his head around.
Alyse was lying in the mud, with the attacker on top of her. Her pants had been torn off, and she was struggling to get away. James could see the terror in her eyes as she clawed at the mud. The man leaned on one elbow, holding a knife to her throat while he struggled with his free hand with his belt. “Quit squirming, you little whore,” the man snarled. “Ain’t no one gonna come down here to help you.” He paused with his belt long enough to slam his fist into her cheek. Her struggles diminished into dazed flailing, and the man grunted as he reached down to his pants again.
James didn’t really think about what he was doing. He’d spent enough time splitting wood over the winter to develop a strong swing. He didn’t aim for the head, though. In the rain, it was possible that the two-by-two would only glance off the man’s skull. Instead, he turned the two-by-two so that the corner faced down, stepped silently up beside the attacker, and swung as hard as he could for the base of the man’s neck, where the spine met the skull.
The man jerked when the piece of lumber connected. The knife he held slipped from his fingers, and he seemed to deflate, collapsing with a soft groan onto Alyse, who suddenly began thrashing again. She wriggled out from under his weight and scuttled backwards until her back touched the wall of the shed. She clutched her knees to her chest and stared up at James with wide, dark, haunted eyes.
James tossed the piece of wood into the mud beside the fallen attacker and then walked over and collected Alyse’s discarded pants and underwear. They were smeared in mud, and the pants zipper and button were missing from being ripped open and jerked over her boots, but they would be good enough to get them back to the room. He tried to shake the mud out of the underwear, and then he walked calmly over to where Alyse cowered, shivering, half-naked in the mud and the rain. “Next time,” he said quietly, “take me with you. I looked after my mother, and I can look after you.”
Alyse glanced down at the dead man lying a few inches from her feet and then back at the blonde-haired seven year old who stood there, handing her dignity back to her. She bowed her head for a minute, weeping softly. At last she took the offered clothing and staggered to her feet, awkwardly trying to pull her torn underwear over her boots. James moved close enough for her to lean on him as she dressed. At length she whispered, “You must not tell your father.”
James looked up at her, his eyes somber. “I won’t. But don’t go anywhere alone again. Losing you would destroy him.”
She stared at him for a moment. “Are you sure you’re only seven, James?”
“Let’s go back to the room, Alyse.”
*
Justin had just begun to worry when he spotted his son and Alyse moving through the crowd. “See, Brigitte,” he commented. “I told you they’d be right back.”
Alyse looked a little pale, but when Justin commented on it, she just shrugged. “It’s this rain. The mud made me slip, and I think I may have twisted my back a little. I’ll be fine.”
Justin nodded and glanced down at his son. “If you ever run off like that again, James…”
“Leave him be, Justin,” Alyse interrupted, grabbing hold of James’ hand. “He just wanted to make sure I was safe. I’ll bring him with me next time, so he doesn’t have to sneak away.”
Glowering at his son, who stood there looking somehow both smug and apologetic, Justin snorted. He glanced up at Alyse. “Did you get the vouchers?” She nodded, but her expression was odd. “Are you okay?” Justin asked.
She looked around at the mass of people and waved her hand. “I just… I hate this place. The people, the lines… I hate it.”
Justin reached out a hand and brushed her cheek with his fingers. She shivered and smiled weakly at him. He smiled back. “I do, too. Hopefully we’ll be gone before too long.”
He glanced over at Alyse, who was frowning and patting her pockets. “What’s up?”
Alyse grimaced and looked at him guiltily. “I forgot my vouchers on the table,” she murmured.
Justin bit back a sigh of frustration. They had been shivering in the line for nearly an hour already, and the line was getting longer by the minute. They had a decent place, only a hundred or so people from the front of the line, and leaving would guarantee that they missed getting anything for a second day in a row.
“I’ve got mine,” he said. “We can make it stretch.”
Alyse shook her head and then pulled an errant strand of soggy dark hair out of her eyes. “You and I both know that the rations they provide are barely large enough for one person, let alone two… or four.” She glanced up the line, which was inching forward almost imperceptibly. “We’ve got time. I can make it to the room and back in five minutes.”
Justin frowned. “Look, Alyse…”
She sighed in exasperation. “Justin, I’ll be fine. It’s only five minutes away. Just watch the kids.” Her tone brooked no argument, and before he could respond, she turned and headed back toward the Family Block.
Justin muttered darkly under his breath and turned his attention back to the slow-moving line. James, standing beside him, watched
Alyse disappear into the crowd. Beside him, Brigitte turned to look at Justin. “Where is Mama going?”
“She had to go and get something from the room,” Justin replied gently. “She’ll be right back. Now hold onto my hand, Brigitte.”
James blinked as rain dripped into his eyes. “I’m going to go back with her,” he announced suddenly.
Justin glanced down at James. “She’ll be okay, kiddo. It’s only a five minute walk.”
James shook his head. “I’ll be back,” he promised. “I’m just going to watch out for her.”
The look in his eyes caused Justin to pause for just a moment. “James, it isn’t safe for you to go alone.”
James glared at him. “It’s safer for me than it is for her. I’ve seen the men around here watch her, even if you haven’t noticed. I’m going.”
Justin reached out to grab his son’s shoulder, but James ducked away and disappeared into the crowd of people. Justin turned to follow, but stopped. As much as he wanted to, the food was important. James would be fine. Alyse would be fine. It was a five minute walk, for crying out loud.
Even so, he couldn’t shake a sudden sense of fear that thrilled through his spine as he inched forward another step.
*
James decided to make a game of it. While there were literally thousands of people trudging through the mud, after months at the cabin, with all of the snow, he knew what Alyse’s footprints looked like. The hiking boots she wore had a distinctive outer ridge, and she invariably walked with more pressure on her heels. He’d had too much free time at the cabin not to find things to do, and after that first hunt with his father, he’d realized he liked tracking animals. So, he crouched down in the mud and looked for the distinctive footprint.
He spotted it almost right away. Knowing which way Alyse was going made things much easier, and the mud held the tracks really well, far better than spring-time snow. While some of the footprints were obscured by the trample of feet, enough of them remained to make following her trail relatively easy.
Like everyone else, she had to meander a little to move around crowded areas. At one point the trail led past a rubbish heap, where he noticed a piece of lumber that would make a perfect make-shift bat. James glanced at the piece of two-by-two contemplatively. He could probably find a few other boys and get a baseball game going, once the rain quit, he mused. Shrugging, he grabbed the stick. It was long enough to use as a walking stick, too. He grinned and scanned the mud for the next track, finding it without any trouble. It was almost too easy.
He caught a glimpse of her dark hair a few hundred yards ahead of him, and he was about to slow down when someone ducked out from between a pair of utility sheds right beside her, grabbed her, and yanked her into the shadows of the buildings. She screamed, but no one around her even slowed down. Instead, almost everyone near where she had been sped up, looking in another direction.
James hesitated, glancing back the way he had come. His father was only a few hundred yards back the way he had come. He considered running to get him, but he knew that it would take too long. He burst into a sprint, heading for where her attacker had dragged her.
He slowed a little as he drew near the narrow gap between the sheds, clutching the piece of lumber he had picked up tight to his chest. His heart was racing as he stepped around the corner.
No one was there.
He immediately saw the marks in the mud, though. Alyse’s attacker had dragged her backwards, and her boots had left two troughs in the damp earth. He closed his eyes for a moment, and caught a rough, low voice coming from very back of the utility sheds.
“… cut you, bitch. I don’t really give a fuck if you’re bleeding out while I fuck you.”
James darted to the back of the shed and poked his head around.
Alyse was lying in the mud, with the attacker on top of her. Her pants had been torn off, and she was struggling to get away. James could see the terror in her eyes as she clawed at the mud. The man leaned on one elbow, holding a knife to her throat while he struggled with his free hand with his belt. “Quit squirming, you little whore,” the man snarled. “Ain’t no one gonna come down here to help you.” He paused with his belt long enough to slam his fist into her cheek. Her struggles diminished into dazed flailing, and the man grunted as he reached down to his pants again.
James didn’t really think about what he was doing. He’d spent enough time splitting wood over the winter to develop a strong swing. He didn’t aim for the head, though. In the rain, it was possible that the two-by-two would only glance off the man’s skull. Instead, he turned the two-by-two so that the corner faced down, stepped silently up beside the attacker, and swung as hard as he could for the base of the man’s neck, where the spine met the skull.
The man jerked when the piece of lumber connected. The knife he held slipped from his fingers, and he seemed to deflate, collapsing with a soft groan onto Alyse, who suddenly began thrashing again. She wriggled out from under his weight and scuttled backwards until her back touched the wall of the shed. She clutched her knees to her chest and stared up at James with wide, dark, haunted eyes.
James tossed the piece of wood into the mud beside the fallen attacker and then walked over and collected Alyse’s discarded pants and underwear. They were smeared in mud, and the pants zipper and button were missing from being ripped open and jerked over her boots, but they would be good enough to get them back to the room. He tried to shake the mud out of the underwear, and then he walked calmly over to where Alyse cowered, shivering, half-naked in the mud and the rain. “Next time,” he said quietly, “take me with you. I looked after my mother, and I can look after you.”
Alyse glanced down at the dead man lying a few inches from her feet and then back at the blonde-haired seven year old who stood there, handing her dignity back to her. She bowed her head for a minute, weeping softly. At last she took the offered clothing and staggered to her feet, awkwardly trying to pull her torn underwear over her boots. James moved close enough for her to lean on him as she dressed. At length she whispered, “You must not tell your father.”
James looked up at her, his eyes somber. “I won’t. But don’t go anywhere alone again. Losing you would destroy him.”
She stared at him for a moment. “Are you sure you’re only seven, James?”
“Let’s go back to the room, Alyse.”
*
Justin had just begun to worry when he spotted his son and Alyse moving through the crowd. “See, Brigitte,” he commented. “I told you they’d be right back.”
Alyse looked a little pale, but when Justin commented on it, she just shrugged. “It’s this rain. The mud made me slip, and I think I may have twisted my back a little. I’ll be fine.”
Justin nodded and glanced down at his son. “If you ever run off like that again, James…”
“Leave him be, Justin,” Alyse interrupted, grabbing hold of James’ hand. “He just wanted to make sure I was safe. I’ll bring him with me next time, so he doesn’t have to sneak away.”
Glowering at his son, who stood there looking somehow both smug and apologetic, Justin snorted. He glanced up at Alyse. “Did you get the vouchers?” She nodded, but her expression was odd. “Are you okay?” Justin asked.
She looked around at the mass of people and waved her hand. “I just… I hate this place. The people, the lines… I hate it.”
Justin reached out a hand and brushed her cheek with his fingers. She shivered and smiled weakly at him. He smiled back. “I do, too. Hopefully we’ll be gone before too long.”