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“I have to wonder where you’ve been living,” he responds, his dark eyes studying me. “You don’t look like you’ve missed a meal in a while and surely you must know that women have become a huge commodity. Only Tyton and his inner circle get to keep one to themselves, the rest of their men share the other women.”
“Lucky until now, I guess. A guy I know, he came this way nearly a week ago and hadn’t been heard from,” I tell him, carefully guarding my words since it’s obvious that everyone is listening.
“Yeah, there’s a new guy around. He walked right into camp like thesoldierswere expecting him. I guess he had some deal with Tyton, not that it’ll be honored; not the minute he’s no longer useful to them.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, as it seems this man has been paying attention to what’s going on around here.
“The other day I was taken on a run with some others. It looked like a military recruiting office, but it actually had an impressive cache of weapons in a hidden room. If that’s your buddy, and he continues to give up info like that, Tyton and his goons will take care of him. I’m going to try to sleep, watch who you talk to though, the men in here will report you just to get a little extra slop in their bowl.” With those words, he casts his glance around the enclosure, giving me a good idea of who he believes the weak links are.
Once he sits, bringing his knees up against his chest to rest his head on, I move to stand against one of the two solid walls. I spend the next couple of hours studying not only the men I’m locked up with, but those who pass by from time-to-time.
Honestly, some of the men on guard duty don’t look that much better off than the prisoners—which gets me wondering if they were some of the men who took the deal they were offered. The camouflaged gear they wear could be picked up at any hunting supply story, but it’s the red eagle insignia over their heart that distinguishes them from the rest of us.
When the sun rises, a handful of men playing soldier come to unlock the gate and those around me seem to know the drill. They swell toward the exit, lining up and heading out of my view. It’s when I’m about to follow them, I, unexpectedly, get a rifle butt thrust into my stomach.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” One of them jeers at me while the other captives push me out of the way. “You stay here until we say so.”
The kid aiming his rifle at me isn’t more than twenty-five and I can see he’s itching to fire a shot, so I bite down on the comment that comes to mind. I have too much to live for to let his punk-ass take me out.
It’s a long day, I spend it checking the walls and fencing for any weakness, finding none. As it drags on, my stomach reminds me of the meals I’ve missed and my mouth becomes uncomfortably dry. Occasionally screams or smells from meals being prepared come my way, giving me an idea of how other people are faring in the camp around me.
Not long after dark, the other captives come back, looking more run down than when they left. The man who spoke to me the night before sits beside me, my body tightens when his hand lightly brushes my thigh, but I quickly realize that he’s giving me something.
“They check us. If we find something, we eat it on the spot,” he whispers so quietly that I can barely make out the words before I slowly reach for what he left next to my leg.
Slowly moving my hand to where I feel something wedged between my leg and the floor, I feel a cellophane wrapped candy of some sort. Replaying his words in my head makes me realize it was probably the only thing he could effectively hide, and I’m happy to have it. I grunt and nod my head. Hoping he knows that I’m thankful for this kindness.
“It’ll be another day or so before they’ll tell you your options.” His words are covered by the men who are scuffling for a better spot in our cell and I nod to let him know I heard him as I try to figure out the best way to get the candy into my mouth without being seen.
*
Over the next couple of days, I find out his name is Desmond and he was trying to get from someplace in southern Alberta to his family in Oregon.
On the third day, one of the guards brings me a bowl of oatmeal and a cup of water. Since he spends most of his time looking over his shoulder, I make quick work of it and hand the containers back to him.
It’s the morning of the fourth day when I jolt awake, instantly knowing that something’s wrong; I freeze, trying to figure out what’s different. Only slightly shifting my head, I crack open my eyelids and pan my gaze around.
Beyond the fence there’s a man I would know anywhere, talking to two other men as they slowly approach us. I roll my head back against the wall, still pretending to be asleep.
“He hasn’t been fed since we brought him in,” one of the men tells my old friend. “We found out yesterday that he mentioned knowing you the first night he was here.”
“He’s been mooching off of my family. I’d rather he wasn’t given a choice to join your ranks. Trust me, he’ll betray you the first chance he gets,” Jace tells the men standing on either side of him.
“Pity,” says the older of the two men. “He looks like he could handle himself in a fight.”
“He can. I just don’t get the impression you want men who will question your every order,GeneralTyton,” Jace replies.
What my old friend is completely oblivious to is the look that his newfriendsexchange behind his back.
Still pretending to be asleep, I shift my eyes around to study the men I’m locked up with, wondering if I’ll be able to spot the person who sold my story to the guards.
I doubt I’d have any energy at all today, if not for the food the guard snuck me plus a granola bar that Desmond gave me last night. It took everything I had to offer him half of it, but he carefully lifted his pant leg just enough so I could see that he had another bar tucked into his worn-out sneaker.
The others around me start to stir and get antsy, the low conversation among several of them is why the guards are running behind this morning, but that’s cut off when we see four men approaching the gate.
They’re different than the normal crew, with a grimmer look about their eyes. Watching them, I try to decide if the tall man is the one who snuck me the food, while I’m certain the shortest of the four is the man who was with Jace this morning, but it’s hard to tell since they all have gaiters on.
After opening the gate, one of them steps forward, pointing his finger seemingly at random. “You. You, and you.”
