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10
THAIS
The defiant girl struggled against her bonds, kicked and spit at the soldier who dragged her by the rope.
“Let me go!” she shrieked.
The soldier grabbed her around the waist, hoisting her into the air; she flailed and cursed as he carried her underneath his arm.
“Sosie,” I whispered, “just do whatever they say, okay?” I tried to sound encouraging.
A loud thwap! sounded behind me, and a mass of long, dark hair pooled around the defiant girl’s head as she fell onto the concrete. Lifting her face from the sidewalk, blood appeared on the back of her hand when she withdrew it from her mouth. The soldier standing over her yanked on the rope and forced her back to her feet. His hand went up to strike her again, but before he could bring it down, the man, who I assumed was the Overseer, stepped forward and held out his hand to the soldier. Reluctantly, the soldier relented, and then handed over his end of the rope.
The defiant girl glared at the Overseer through puffy, reddened eyes; blood trickled from one corner of her mouth.
“If you don’t let me go,” she growled, “I’ll kill every one of you.”
The Overseer reached for a knife at his hip, removing it from a leather sheath attached at his belt. The girl’s eyes widened; she took a step back, but stood her ground instead, rounded her chin and invited whatever fate the Overseer had in mind to serve her.
“Hold out your hands,” he told her.
Reluctantly she did, and to the surprise of everyone, he cut her wrists free.
“You can run if you want,” the Overseer said, “but where will you go? Back into the mountains? You’d be buying yourself weeks, maybe a few more months of false freedom before the cracks come and take everything you’ve got and slaughter your family. Or the savages find you and cut you into pieces.”
I squeezed Sosie’s hand so tight.
“Or,” the Overseer went on, “you can stay here and live in a structured society, protected from outsiders.” He dropped the rope from his hand and sheathed his knife with the other.
The defiant girl scoffed. “A structured society?” She laughed. “Sure, a structured society of kidnappers and rapists and murderers—fuck you!” Droplets of blood spewed from her lips.
The Overseer turned to Marion, a look of question on his face.
Marion’s broad shoulders rose and fell with an irritated sigh; he looked through the crowd at the men, and then gestured three fingers at the rapist known as Private Bell.
“Did that man violate you?” the Overseer asked the defiant girl as Private Bell walked up.
“No,” she answered with an offended look.
She raised her hand and uncurled her index finger, pointed at the quiet girl bound by the rope in Private Bell’s hand. The victim refused to speak, or even to lift her head.
The Overseer stepped up to Private Bell.
“Is this true?” he demanded. “Did you rape this girl?”
Private Bell’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, it’s true,” he admitted. “So fuckin’ what—are you gonna throw me in jail?” He laughed and so did many others.
My ears hung on every word, my eyes drank in every movement. I watched the Overseer from the side, studying his tall height and athletic stature. He had short chestnut-brown hair and severe blue eyes that both intrigued and frightened me. But there was something else about him, something…different. And although I wanted to understand it, I didn’t have time to investigate.
Private Bell jerked the rope in his hand, pulled the quiet, broken girl toward him. “Look at her,” he insisted. “You know as well as anyone here that she’s destined for the brothel.”
The victim stood with her bound hands down in front of her; her small, bony shoulders slumped over. She wore a dirty dress stained with blood and hardship, and white lace-up shoes coming apart.
Private Bell wrenched her chin in his large hand, raised her face to the Overseer; what meat was left on her cheeks forced around his thick fingers as he squeezed.
“Look at her!” Private Bell repeated, the desperation growing in his voice. “Look at her and tell me Rafe wouldn’t have put her in the brothel.”
The Overseer looked back at Private Bell, his unbreakable expression never faltering.
