“Hey, I’m not going to hurt you; I promise.”
She runs a thin hand through her matted black hair. She’s shaking. I can feel her ribs through the threadbare shirt she wears, and it reminds me of Alyssa. This woman’s older, I’m guessing in her thirties. The smell of stagnant urine lingers in the air. People in the shantytown have nowhere to cleanse themselves. And the living conditions are far worse now than they were when I lived in the Hole just a few months ago.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Uh-huh,” is all she manages to mutter back to me. I glance up, and Cole’s hovering over the man who just beat her.
“Zeus, that’s enough.”
Zeus makes this awful hacking sound as he spits out a chunk of the thief’s clothing. I can only imagine what that must’ve tasted like.
“What’s wrong with you?” Cole asks the thief in a stern tone. “Stealing from a helpless woman, and then you go and kick her? Really?”
“She’s already half-dead. And I’m starving, asshole.”
Cole punches him across the jaw, and the man’s head whips to the left. He recovers, eyeing Cole up and down, his pride surely bruised as much as his face will be. “Give it to me.”
“No,” the man says. He turns and spits blood on the ground.
“Zeus, get it,” Cole says.
Zeus sniffs the man and forces him onto his back. Then he bites down on his right wrist.
“Ahhhh!” The man screams, releasing the bag.
Cole yanks it away and signals to Zeus to release the hand.
“See? That wasn’t so hard now was it?” Cole asks.
“Wait a minute. Where have I seen you before?” The man looks Cole over once more. “Oh … I see now. A guard, of all people. You do know every single one of you sticks out like a sore thumb? Your stance, the way you hold your head high, like you’re all above us dirtbags down here. You’ve got more blood on your hands than any man in here. You self-righteous son of a bitch. But go, tell yourself you’re a better person now for saving that lady. You are just as bad as the Commander, if not worse.”
I can’t tell what bothers Cole more, the man’s words or the fact that he recognizes Cole. I catch his eye, then look over at Bruno. They both look from side to side, then all around the immediate area. Grace has tears in her eyes, and it hits me. Cole cannot risk anyone knowing he’s here.
Bruno makes his way to Cole, and Grace joins me.
“Will she be all right?” Grace’s voice is soft.
“I’m not sure. But we gotta find shelter soon, and we can’t risk anyone giving us up,” I whisper in her ear.
“What about her?” Grace whispers back, thumbing her finger at the woman.
“I don’t know. Just look the other way.”
“I’ll block you,” Bruno says. “Hurry up and do it.”
Grace and I turn away as Cole grabs the man around the head and prepares to do away with the threat to our safety. Then we hear the snap.
We turn around to see the boys throw the dead man into a hut. Zeus trots over to us, then sniffs and licks the woman’s face. She opens her eyes. There is only one word to describe what happens next. Terror. The woman scrunches back and away from us. Her scream reminds me of the alarms from earlier. Grace reaches over and covers her mouth with her hand. The woman continues to scream, gurgling through muffled fear. Her eyes are as big as quarters.
She wriggles away from Grace, who plunges forward to catch her. She can’t get away. I dive for her, but she smacks me.
“Please, we aren’t trying to hurt you,” Grace says.
“What’d you do that for?” I raise a hand to my stinging face, regretting trying to help her.
She stops screaming but continues heaving and breathing heavily. “What is that?” she asks in a weak voice.
“He’s a dog. He’s just a very big dog,” I say.
“A dog. Looks like a horse.” She chuckles. Then begins to cough. “I thought he was going to eat me.”
I stifle a laugh, remembering the first time I laid eyes on Zeus. I’m grateful she’s breathing and talking again.
Bruno and Cole arrive at our sides.
“Here, let me carry her,” Bruno says, and he crouches down. “Would it be all right if I carry you to your hut?”
“I’d appreciate that, sir, thank you.”
“Are you okay?” Grace asks him, but he just shakes off her concern.
He gently puts his right arm under the woman’s legs and with his left arm, he cradles her back. He’s gentle, like he would be with a child. Grace is so lucky. He’ll make a great father, if he makes it out of here alive.
“Where’s your hut?” he asks.
“The one with the blue curtains.” She laughs. The laugh is long, hoarse, and full of mucus. Her sense of humor is unnerving.