“Bastard!” She spit at the rapist.
Marion walked up.
“What the hell’s going on?” His gaze skimmed the defiant girl first, and then landed on the brute.
“I’m not sure, sir,” the brute lied, “but this one’s more trouble than she’s worth.”
Marion turned to the defiant girl, waiting for an explanation.
With a firm finger, she pointed at the rapist. “You said none of us would be hurt! Does rape not constitute as hurting someone? You said we would be safe with you!” She tried to lunge again, but the brute pushed her down this time where she fell on the ground next to me; I felt her elbow jab me in the ribs.
Marion turned to the accused.
“Is what she said true?”
The man looked down at the girl he had violated. “She’s gonna end up in the brothel anyway,” he said. “What does it matter?”
“Last time I checked,” Marion said with reprimand, “you weren’t the Overseer, Private Bell. The only decisions you’re free to make are when you need to shit, take a piss, or blow your fucking nose.”
The rapist, named Private Bell, lowered his eyes and nodded his acknowledgement to Marion.
“You’ll lose your cigarette privileges for a week,” Marion added.
“That’s it?!” the defiant girl shouted from her spot on the ground. “He rapes someone and his punishment is he doesn’t get to smoke for a week? What kind of punishment is that?!”
Marion held his hand out to help her up. She refused to take it, but stood up on her own, unafraid of him.
“When we get to Lexington,” Marion told her, “Private Bell’s crime will be made known to the Overseer. The Overseer will deal with him from there.” He walked away from her, raised a hand in the air and shouted, “Now let’s move out!”
And that was the end of the discussion.
By the next morning, the city of Lexington, Kentucky, finally came into view under a bright and cloudless sky.
I thought that nothing could frighten me more than being with these men, but I had been wrong. As we approached, and the buildings grew larger on the horizon, I fought the panic brewing inside; I tried to stop my hands from shaking, my knees from weakening under the heavy weight of my mind. What will happen to me and my sister? Will we be treated kindly? Will we be violated like that girl at the end of the caravan? So many questions. But I already knew the answers. As much as I tried to deny them, I already knew.
And so I tried to think of my father instead. I wished we were still sitting at the kitchen table talking with him about why it was better to clean the fish inside the house. I wished that Sosie and I were still little girls, sneaking out to play in the woods. I wished that Fernando and his mother were next door and I could skip across the street and ask them over for a game of cards. But none of my wishes came true, and I couldn’t think much about my father, or my sister, or my friends, because my mother’s voice wouldn’t stop screaming in my head.
I wept. I cried so hard that my stomach ached and my throat swelled and my nose got so stuffy that I couldn’t breathe. I cried until my eyes burned and I threw up.
I wasn’t the strong one; I was as weak as my sister.
And I couldn’t hide it anymore.
9
ATTICUS
Lexington, Kentucky | Capital East-Central Territory
I met with Rafe yesterday morning for the particulars of my temporary position as Overseer. It was a short meeting before Rafe set out with a small army on the road to Cincinnati.
“How long do you expect them to be gone?” my friend, Peter Whitman, asked, standing in the doorway of my apartment.
I pushed the buttons of my military uniform shirt into the holes, to the last button, then tucked the tail of the shirt in behind my pants and tightened my belt. I needed to look the part my first day as Overseer—everything I could do to gain the respect of the other men, needed to be done. And if I couldn’t get the respect the easy way, I was prepared to get it the hard way.
“I don’t know,” I answered. “They might not come back at all.” I sat on the edge of my bed and tightened the strings on my boots.
Peter leaned against the doorframe, crossed his arms over his chest.
“I think he’ll be made General,” Peter said about Rafe. “And you’ll become Overseer.”
The last General was killed two weeks ago, and Wolf still had not named a replacement.
I looked up from my boots at Peter. “I’m beginning to think the same thing.”
Cautiously, Peter looked out into the hallway, and then said in a low voice, “The shit you can do with that kind of power.” His boyish face was alight with the exciting possibilities. “All the liquor, tobacco, and women you can handle.”
Peter was not like the other men in Wolf’s army, but he loved the ladies, and was one of the brothel’s best customers. He was the only man in Lexington who I felt I could almost trust—I trusted no one fully.
I shook my head at Peter’s comment, pulled the boot strings tight and tied them. I moved to stand in front of the tall mirror mounted on the wall, and inspected my uniform; I glimpsed Peter behind me in the reflection of the glass.
“I’m not trying to get ahead of myself,” I said, “but if that does happen, if I end up with the Overseer position, every soldier in Lexington will be my enemy by default—I hope you don’t become one of them.”
Peter’s eyebrows drew together; a smile of disbelief slowly crept over his features.
“You’re kidding, right?” he said. “You’re the only man in Lexington I trust, the only one I like.” He pressed his boot against the doorframe, pushed his back away from it and uncrossed his arms. “If anything, I’ll pretend to have it out for you like everybody else, but have your back from the inside.”
“That’ll be hard to pull off,” I said.
“How so?”
I laughed lightly. “Look where you are right now, Peter.” I shook my head at him in the reflection of the mirror. “We’ve been friends since you came here—you’re the last person any of them would trust with information they don’t want me to have.”
Peter shrugged, having to agree.
“I’m just hoping you won’t force me to do something I don’t want to do,” I added.
Peter chuckled, his shoulders bouncing slightly.
“What, are you gonna kill me if I fuck up?”
“Yes,” I said, and I meant it.
Peter’s smile fled in an instant—he knew I wasn’t joking. Jokes usually weren’t in my repertoire. Not anymore.
“Well, I’m always going to be on your side no matter what happens,” Peter said, and then he stepped farther into the room. “And you can repay that loyalty with a little on-the-side treatment, if y’know what I mean.” He grinned.
I raised a brow, standing near the window now with my arms crossed. “Repay you?” I said. “Are you blackmailing me, Private Whitman?”
“Hell no,” Peter said with laughter. “I’m jus’ sayin’, it would be nice to, y’know, be appreciated.”