Since the encounter with the feral bouncers, Nila has been spending more and more time scouting out ahead of me. Keeping the road in sight has been difficult at times, but after getting attacked by feral roos, we had to keep our distance from it. It was tiring having to get off the road and wait for people travelling to pass, but now we’re extra cautious. It gets worse when the cliffs up the slope hem us in until we’re unable to keep much distance from the road. With the cliff so close, the trees are smaller, some smashed by falling rocks through the ages. Up ahead, I can see a slew of grey and black where the cliffside has fallen into a heavy, uneven scattering of boulders and stones. I can see bright sunlight striking the exposed stone, caught by straggly shrubs clinging to their sides and lurking in the gaps between the heated surfaces.
I haven’t seen Nila for a while, is she waiting on the other side for me? In no hurry to reach the exposed section of roadside, I keep a sharp eye on the road and the trees on the other side of the open area.
Moving through the gaps between the larger boulders which reach over my head in places, I relish what little shade I can find while the sun is almost overhead. Bushes scratch against my pants, the sharp, smaller stones which haven’t been weathered smooth by the years threatening to slice through my makeshift shoes.
Was that my name? Wind in the cracks and crevices steals my hearing, until the sound is unmistakeable. Climbing up onto the top of the nearest obstacle, I find Nila scrambling up the slope.
“What’s wrong?” I shout, hands to my mouth to amplify the sound.
She disappears for a moment, before several large men, fully kitted out with weapons and sturdy boots emerge from different points behind her. They leap daringly from rock to rock, fearlessly crossing gaps that would make me think more than twice. One points at me and two men divert, coming straight at me.
“Fuck!” the blood drains from my face robbing my knees of strength.
“Go, go, go!” Nila’s voice snatches me out of the terror that kept me in place, my feet moving on their own. Slipping the pack off my shoulders, I head back the way we came – where I know how to get through the rocks. A shout of pain pulls my attention for a moment, just enough for me to land badly on one foot. Hissing against the pain, I catch myself on my hands, pain jolting up my arms into my shoulders.
“There!” Shit, they found me. Limping as fast as I can isn’t enough – in moments I can hear their footsteps behind me. Turning to watch their approach, I feel the beast inside me flex her claws. I need you! Glancing furtively behind me, my breath catches in my throat when I catch sight of the burly man landing on the rocks behind me. He advances quickly, taking steady steps on the uneven surface. A part of me is impressed that he can move so quickly where I struggled.
“Quickly!” he shouts, his voice ringing in the narrow space. My beast roars, stretching my face and spine, elongating my limbs as she leaps forwards, tail springing out from my waistband, ankle pain forgotten. Letting my beast take control, she flails with claws and jaws, swiping and gnashing our teeth. We need to rip and bite – make them hurt.
Blood streams from slashes in his shoulders and arms, but somehow he seems unfazed. With our attack ineffective, terror rises like a tide, a hand lands on my throat choking the air from my lungs. My vision spots, my beast subsiding from lack of air.
“Now!” Through my struggles, something wet and gooey lands in my fur, but I shrug it off. Within moments, however, my struggles get further away, as if something has wrapped itself around my fury and begun to smother the beast working so hard to protect me. Its hard to think, like my brain is stuck in a tarpit. Why am I so mad? It all seems to tiring.
“We got her, retreat!”
The words filter in through the cotton wool in my head, but they don’t make sense. Unable to keep the wool from smothering me, I let it take me into darkness.
Shit.
-----
A glimmer of light prods at my face. Sniffling to get it away from me, my neck twists painfully. My gasp is loud in my ears. Opening my eyes, they feel scratchy – but that’s nothing compared to the vibrations coming through the floor. I can see two guys in the back of a wagon of some kind, one with eyes fixed on me. The other seems to be asleep. How is he doing that? it’s bumpy as hell in here!
The next bump jolts my arms, informing me that I’m lying on my side, propped up against something. They’re tied behind my back, with rope around my wrists and elbows, hands clasped together. Even my legs are lashed together. With all the bumping the smallest movement causes me to fall flat on my face. It’s a miracle that didn’t happen while I was unconscious.
This is much worse.
I can’t sense my beast at all. While I was with Nila its constant purring was comforting – I might not have been able to shift but hearing it in my head at least meant I could connect with it – with her.
Wait, Nila. Where is she? Turning my head as much as the cramped position will allow I can see out of the rear opening of the wagon. Looking upwards into the sky an occasional tree passes over us, breaking up the endless cloudy blue.
I hope she’s okay.
With my face pressed up against the floor of the wagon, every bump rattles my skull as well as my body. Yes, she’s better off without me. Better me in this position than her. She deserves to be free.
Nila has a whole group of people who she looks after, who adore her, helping with cooking and cleaning that large place they stay in. I’m a blow-in who turned up out of the blue – literally. With me out of the way, she will have a better chance of getting to the bottom of why that lunatic was holding her at knife point anyway.
Someone like her doesn’t need someone like me holding her back.
Under the rope around my wrists, I can feel the run of something else. Is that Tia – no it was another kid. That’s their bracelet right? They probably give those to everyone who turns up. I’m nothing special. The only reason I went with Nila was because for some reason we are both snow leopard shifters. Now Tia and the rest of her friends can go on without me like they were doing for years before I arrived.
The thought of being alone again sends a quiver through me, but the boneshaking vibrations of the wagon make it easy to ignore. Hopefully, it won’t be long before they stop and get me out of here. Although I suppose to deserve this for trying to be someone I’m not. Nila would have been better off taking anyone else with her.
Her lithe form slicing through the air into the water flashes across my mind. Stop it, you’re no good for her! I can’t keep my eyes closed – she will haunt me. At least I manage to roll onto my back, putting a gap between my skull and the floor. That’s way better. Now I can close my eyes. Apart from the strain in my shoulder, its much more relaxing than painful. Although my neck is cramping from holding my head up.
“Can I have a pillow?” My voice is strained, but somehow one of the men in the back of the wagon with me hears it over the horse hooves and rattling of the wagon. A few moments later, he slides some fabric under my head. It’s not much, but the relief is immediate.
“Thank you.” Even though the fabric is scratchy, I’m exhausted from walking and running. Its impossible to keep my eyes open.
An insistent prodding in my shoulder drags me awake. It’s a waterskin. Glancing up at the expressionless, blocky face standing over me, I open my mouth. He lets me drink a few mouthfuls of water before capping the skin again and moving away.
What was that for? Aren’t’ I supposed to be their prisoner or something? What kind of kidnappers are these guys?
After what feels like an eternity, the wagon starts to slow. My legs lift up, my feet propped up to allow one of the guys to undo the knots around my ankles and unwind the rope. My eyebrows lift at the sight. Then the pins and needles arrive. The rope was tied firmly, but not too tight. Even that was enough to cut off some of the circulation. Gritting my teeth against the sensation, I almost wish they’d left the ropes on. But its better to have my legs free so I can adjust my position more easily. If I’m going to be lying down in the wagon for much longer, at least I’ll be able to look after myself better.
An expressionless face appears in front of me again.
“You’re going to behave, aren’t you, Miss Soapwood?” His voice is flat, as though the answer won’t affect him at all. I’m at his mercy, so I suppose it won’t. I nod, to avoid whimpering or shouting. I can’t tell which would come out if I tried to speak.
Thankfully, I don’t have to try and get up while my arms are bound behind me. One meaty hand wraps around my upper arm, lifting me straight off the floor. My legs are working again, the pins and needles subsiding. Then the ropes around my arms start to loosen. Shit, here we go again.
Grunting while the sensation runs its course, I realise my hands are free. They didn’t leave my wrists tied at all. Though I suppose this guy is bigger and stronger than me, so I’m not going to be able to overpower him, his mate, and then run away on top of that.
The wagon is moving at a walking pace now, the road behind us winding away into the distance before turning out of sight behind a slight rise. There are trees on the right hand side of the road, while on the left is open fields with some kind of crop in neat rows. I know next to nothing about farming – only that wheat is brown which was why the girls uniform at high school was brown and tan stripes. There was also that thing about dwarfism which increased crop yield somehow. Do they use some kind of magic around here? I bet they do.
Big man leans down to hiss into my ear. “Make a sound, and you’re in trouble. Try to run, and we’ll hunt you down again. Behave and you’ll get food and a bed. Clear?”
That’s a really good deal. I’m not really in the mood to run anyway. My feet are killing me, and I’m not sure how well my shoes are going to hold up now that Nila isn’t here to magic them together again. I can feel them falling apart already. I swallow the pang of concern that rises at the thought of her.
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“Fine whatever.” I huff, “but I hurt my ankle, so I can’t walk properly.” Even having my weight off it for the wagon ride hasn’t improved it much. Now that the pins and needles are gone, I can feel the ache of it.
Big Man nods and a moment later, hand grab my sore ankle, lifting it behind me. Off balance, I am forced to rely on big man to hold me upright. I hate that I’m having to rely on him of all things, but strong hands massage my ankle.
“Needs rest.” A gravelly voice announces. In a different situation, that voice might be sexy. Especially if it was a girl. Big man doesn’t respond. I put my foot back on the floor, testing the weight. It’s not as bad as I feared, but I’m going to play it up as much as I can. The less walking they think I can do the better.
The way they moved over that uneven ground like it was flat means I’m not going to outrun them anywhere. And I’m outnumbered by two of them, let alone the other two who have the horses and the wagon to chase me with.
The only way I might get away clean is if I can somehow shift fully into snow leopard. That would give me more balance, and better eyesight and smell. Then I might be able to move faster and hide better. My beast isn’t reacting to them, so I’m not going to be able to shift without her help. Do I call her ‘Lucy’ too? Will she tell me her name or will I have to come up with one? Choosing my own name was hard enough.
Sighing, I brace myself as the wagon starts to turn, revealing a fence we’ve just passed through. We must have entered some kind of property. The wagon turns again, this time backing up towards a berth in a building that smells of horses and sweat. Once the wagon has stopped, big man’s friend opens the tail gate and hops down. Then big man passes me down to him. It’s too high up for me to jump down without having to put a hand on the floor, or the rail. At least with their help I don’t have to land on my sore ankle. Small mercies, I guess.
They walk on each side, gripping my upper arms. Coming out from behind the wagon, I see the back of the building we’ve stopped for. It’s several storeys tall – three or four, maybe judging by the windows I can see. A sign on the side – visible from the stables and the road has ‘The Taiga’s Tail’ scrawled in fancy script. It looks like it has an actual tiger on it, though its hard to tell in this light, from this angle.
The other two – what looks like the leader and the driver – walk into the doorway ahead of us, scanning left and right before they wave me and my buddies in behind them.
Why did they misspell their own name? Seems like they know what a tiger is. Weird.
“Remember, behave and we’ll look after you.” Big man hisses before settling me down in a free seat and an unoccupied table.
Looking around the room while the leader and driver deal with the hosts up at the counter, I notice the tables which have attached chairs. They look like picnic tables from public parks. I guess if it works, it works. Harder to throw chairs when they’re attached to the table.
A pretty waiter with short black hair and expressive eyebrows catches my eye. One brow climbs into her bangs as she looks me over.
I give her a wave, feeling like an idiot for thinking she would even notice me. She sees people come through here all the time. I’m just another customer. I look away, taking in the exposed rafters, and the timber ceiling from the floor above. There are decorations around the room – what looks like a goat head mounted next to a deer. I’m not sure why people find the need to put dead animals up on their walls. If they just hung a painting, we’d all be able to enjoy the art. This stuffed animal business is just garish. I know what a goat looks like, having only the head and neck makes it look like it got stuck in the wall. Men are such idiots.
I was a dumb man too until I figured myself out. Now I’m a dumb girl. But I’m a happy dumb girl, and that’s the important thing.
Food and drink arrives, shortly after the leader and driver take their seats across from me. The waiter winks at me, as she delivers the drinks, while the big man from behind the counter – not Big Man sitting next to me – brings over plates like a professional waiter, the bowls balanced on his arms. He does not wink at me, instead calmly sliding the bowls into place in front of each of us.
I’m still recovering from the waiter’s wink, my face hot, my eyes on anything but her. I take a drink to calm my nerves, relieved to find it isn’t horrible beer but fresh water. Whether or not they don’t want me getting drunk, I’m glad they don’t want me to drink that rubbish. It tastes like bad bread. I’d rather drink the loafy beer the pyramid architects were supposedly drinking. At least that stuff had antibiotics in it too.
The stew is incredible. The spoons were already in the bowls when they arrived – made of wood for some reason. I suppose metal is scarce around here, then. The broth bursts with flavour, the meat crumbling in my mouth. I could eat this stuff for days. Midway through my bowl, I grab the recently delivered crusty bread, dipping it into the stew and biting off the drippy bit. Oh my god, so good!
A moan slips out, causing me to freeze – looking around to see if anyone noticed. No one at this table noticed at least. I continue chewing, keeping a tighter grip on myself. If the waiter heard that I couldn’t look her in the face again. Ever.
Once the food is all gone, Big Man lifts me by the upper arm again, which I’m grateful for – with my belly full of warmth, I stumble a little as I get to my feet. I’m already half asleep when we get to the staircase, the need to watch where my feet are going keeping me awake until we get to the second floor.
The stink of the four men and me in the stairwell is horrible. My nose rankles, forcing me to breathe through my mouth or be overwhelmed.
“Are you going to have a shower tonight?” I ask Big Man. Shit. How am I going to get to sleep with all that going on? That’s a problem for later, I guess.
We arrive at a hallway, the leader unlocking the door and ushering us in. Big man and his friend join me in this room where I hear the key turning in the lock and footsteps moving further up the hall.
Big Man’s friend checks out the room through a second door, emerging moments later. With that done, Big Man finally releases my arm. Rubbing the soreness from being handled up the stairs I check the room his friend just left. Oh thank god. I get to have a shower. At least I can get rid of this stink.
“I’m having a shower,” I announce to the main room, checking to see if there are towels ready to go. When I find them, I close the door. It doesn’t have its own lock, sadly, but it’s enough to stop them perving on me getting undressed and showering, so I’ll take it. The taps, and the shower head are all made of wood, somehow, which is impressive to me. I can’t see any lacquer to waterproof them. Magic rules.
Hot water streams over me when I turn the tap, washing all my worries away. Well, most of my worries. I use the bar of soap to lather up, then rinse it all off. I haven’t had a proper shower head for ages. This one is perfect – water gushing out in a strong spray. I take my time getting out of the shower, enjoying myself as much as I can before I have to go back into the other room.
I glance up at the small window in the bathroom – its way too small for me to climb out of. That’s probably what Big Man’s Friend was checking for. Damn, now I have to come up with a nickname for him too. Lackey? No, they’re both lackeys. What about mouse? He’s got that mousy brown hair. Sure, why not Mouse?
“Mouse, Big Man, can one of you wash while the other guards? Please?” Thankfully, mouse gets up and goes into the bathroom. I sink onto the bed closest to the window that Mouse just vacated, but Big Man shakes his head and points at the bed by the wall.
“Fine. But you better wash too, or I’m not going to be able to keep my dinner down.” I grumble. I feel better even though my clothes are still sweaty. I sure hope I can somehow get clean clothes tomorrow. This is going to suck if I’m wearing these the whole time I’m being kidnapped.
Sighing, I stare at the wall, enjoying the timber grain in the logs. With little air movement in the room, I catch a whiff of the soap I used. It’s a tangy smell, like jasmine, I think. Either way, it takes the edge of the other things I can smell. The bed is long enough that I don’t have to curl up into a tiny ball to fit, giving me space to stretch out a little. I’m so tired. After the hot food and the shower, I’m about to fall asleep. I don’t resist the urge. The sooner I get to sleep the sooner I get out of here and find out where I’m being taken.
Nila’s face flashes in front of me, the look of fear fixed in my mind. Stop that – you’re better off without me. They’ve got ‘miss Soapwood’ now, they’ll leave you alone. Swiping at the memory of her in front of me, I close my eyes and hunch up onto my pillow to keep her out of my head.
I can’t hold it for long. With a sigh, I relax a little.
Goodnight Nila, wherever you are. If you’re going to be in my head, the least I can do is be nice to you.
-----
Emerging from a dream about rivers and streams, I stretch out, refreshed. My head hits timber, jolting my eyes open. Oh, right. I’m still here. Mouth twisting in a frown, I look around the room. Big man and Mouse are both in their bed, though Big Man is sitting up watching me. Mouse is out cold, though. They must have taken turns watching me and the room. Smart.
Getting up, I stretch out, enjoying the morning air. The window reveals the sleepy grounds, nearby trees caressing the breeze passing by. If I move over this way, I can see the stable, and the wagon where it was parked last night. I didn’t realise it was still light when we arrived. Now that it’s early in the morning, I can see the sun hasn’t fully risen yet. I always was an early riser. Especially since I started taking my meds.
I take care of my business in the bathroom – then on a whim I have another shower. I have no idea if I’ll get to have another one today, so why not? A thorough scrubbing makes everything seem better. I take a whiff of the soap this time, its scent filling my nostrils. “Oh, yeah. That’s the good stuff.” I announce to the showerhead.
A thump on the wall breaks the illusion. “Hurry up.” One of them shouts through the wall. Rude. What about the other patrons of this fine establishment? Grumbling to myself, I wash myself off, using yesterday’s towel to dry myself again.
Storming out of the bathroom, I put my hands on my hips and address the two men. Mouse is awake, standing in front of the window.
“What?”
“We’re leaving.” Big man gestures towards the door and Mouse steps towards me.
“Fine, fine.” Throwing my hands up in the air dramatically makes Mouse’s eyes narrow, which makes me feel a little better I move towards the door, and Big Man’s hand lands in its usual position on my upper arm. Then the key turns in the lock revealing driver and leader. Yeah, I need names for them too.
They wait while the three of us move down the hallway ahead of them. Everyone seems to have showered, thankfully. The trip down the stairwell is much more pleasant than it was going up. In the barroom, Big Man deposits me on the same seat as last night. I look around, noticing the other tables are mostly empty. I guess early morning isn’t for everyone. Last night there were a few other patrons, but not today. Before sunrise is early for people not doing kidnapping, I guess. These guys must be in a hurry.
The older lady from behind the bar approaches the table with several plates, the younger one carrying the rest. Ther man from behind the counter is next and it hits me. Shit, ‘Big Man’ isn’t a good name if there are a bunch of big men around. I glance at not Big Man looking for something about him that might identify him in a crown. Aha! His nose looks wobbly – Nose it is!
The man from behind the counter – maybe husband and wife? – brings our cups. Mine is steaming and I can smell something delicious.
“Ooo, thank you.” I keep my eyes away from the flirty waiter. If she winks at me again, I might combust on the spot. Even the knife and fork are made of wood. They work on the bacon, eggs, toast, and mushrooms well enough. The sausages smell amazing – I didn’t know sausages could smell that good!
When my plate is clean and I’ve put my cutlery down, I look around the table. The others finished well before I did. “you didn’t want to enjoy it?” driver looks at me but stays quiet. He has a scar on his lip which is just shy of making him permanently sneering at everyone. He will be Lip. The leader looks like he’s older than the others, but ‘grey’ isn’t going to last long, just like there are big men everywhere, the owners of this place have grey hairs too. When he gestures towards to the door I see it – a scar along the underside of his arm. It’s a long scar through the pale underside. It looks like it has another, shoter scar on either side. Scratches from someone else they kidnapped? Either way, he’s ‘scar’ now.
With a grin, I get up, relieved to find my upper arm un-grabbed – at least until we get near the door. Mouse grabs my arm for a change, and we walk over to the shed. Lip and Scar go ahead to get in the front of the wagon and my two friends get me up into the back of the wagon. The horses are already hitched to the front of the wagon, making their getaway smooth and easy.
Back on the road I guess. Maybe I'll be able to get away from them now that I can see out the back of the wagon.
Then nose pulls a bit of cord, dropping flaps over the opening. Mouse does the same at the front, blocking off both views.
Welp, there goes that plan.
