The same men opposing him, were now slowly agreeing with him. Heads nodded, whispers of acceptance were exchanged, disgruntled faces became expressions of approval.
After a moment, Marion walked to the bottom step. “I may have misjudged you, Atticus,” he said. “Though I hope you’ll understand that I’m just here to do my duty same as you are, and as leader of my scouting party, that includes the protection of my men.”
Atticus nodded. “And hopefully your women as well,” he said, and looked down at the defiant girl. “Because that one”—he pointed at her—“I’m assigning to you, Marion. She could be of use to an outfit like yours. Teach her to fight and how to shoot—though I gather that won’t be hard to do, considering.”
Marion looked like he wanted to take back the words of apology he had just spoken.
“I’m not going anywhere with him,” the girl shot back, her dark eyes boring into Marion beneath scraggly dark hair.
“You will,” Atticus told her, “and you will cooperate, or Marion will bring you to me and I’ll kill you myself.”
The girl’s lips snapped shut.
“Fine,” Marion grumbled. “And if she tries to kill me?”
“Then I suggest your hand is quicker than hers.”
Marion and the girl shot each other with angry glares.
“Now, let’s get on with this,” Atticus announced, and turned his attention first to the girl who had been raped. “Bring her forward,” he told Marion as he descended the steps.
Marion stepped up with the rope in his hands; the girl followed without argument, kept her face down, as always.
I did the same, to avoid drawing attention to me and Sosie, despite knowing the attention was inevitable.
“Don’t worry, darlin’,” the brute holding my rope said. “I already know where you’re going.” He smiled, displaying his largely gapped front teeth.
I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer.
“The girl will go to the workers,” Atticus announced, to the surprise of everyone.
Marion did a double-take.
“What?” he asked, with the same disbelief the other soldiers shared.
“Look at her, Marion,” Atticus said, pointing. “Who, other than Private Bell, who isn’t so pretty to look at himself, will ever want to fuck her? If I put her in the brothel she’ll be a waste of space. She can’t defend herself much less fight to defend anybody else, and no man here is going to want her as his wife, so with the workers is the only place left to put her.”
Atticus motioned an old woman over.
“She will be under your authority,” he told her, and the woman bowed, took the girl’s hand and walked her through the crowd.
Atticus then turned his attention to Sosie, and my heart sank into my feet.
11
ATTICUS
“Raise your head,” I said to the blonde-haired girl, gently at first, but when she didn’t respond, my voice rose. “I said raise your head.” I could see right away that she was Rafe’s type: young and beautiful and already broken.
She didn’t move, despite my demands.
The soldier next to her jerked the rope that bound her wrists. “You’re blind, not deaf, now do as you’re told, girl.”
“Leave my sister alone!” A dark-haired girl stepped between us; Private Masters, a giant compared to her, yanked her back violently, and forced her against his encompassing chest.
“Please, sir,” she said, tears in her eyes, “I beg you to keep her with me; wherever you send me, let her go with me. PLEASE!”
I ignored her. “Is it true that she’s blind?” I asked the soldier standing next to the blonde.
“Yes, sir.”
I reached out and cupped my hand underneath the blonde’s chin and raised her face. There was nothing in her eyes: no emotion, no acknowledgment, not a care in the world—and she was definitely blind. I’d seen this before: the gray color of the eyes where it should’ve been white; the dilated pupils; the blood around the irises—this girl had The Sickness once upon a time, one of few who lived to tell about it. Because of her handicap, I knew Rafe wouldn’t want her.
I released her chin.
“But she’s an otherwise beautiful girl—.” I stopped myself, and hid the look of indecision that had crept up on my face. Evolve with the rest of humanity or become extinct. Evelyn’s words turned over and over in my mind. And the faces that stared back at me amplified her voice in my head: merciless men waiting to see just how merciful their new Overseer was; Marion waiting to see if I would fuck up the only chance he was willing to give me to prove myself; the brown-haired girl terrified she’d be torn away from her sister forever.
Evolve with the rest of humanity or become extinct.
I knew what I had to do.
“Send her to the brothel,” I said, and a roar of cries and shouts and excited whistles erupted amongst the crowd.
“No, please! You can’t do this! Please!” the sister screamed. “Then send me there with her! I beg you!”
Private Masters held the sister at the waist, his big arm pressed around her ribs, his gapped teeth on display between his wide, grinning lips. I wanted to hit him in the fucking mouth on principle, but I couldn’t. It would give the real me away.
I walked away from the sisters, trying to push down the guilt I felt for what I had to do, and I made my way to the other girls. And one by one, I made them into workers and whores, leaving only the brown-haired sister, and one other blonde.
“These two will come with me,” I announced. “Rafe’ll want to see them first when he returns.”
Private Masters let the sister go and she fell to her knees on the concrete and cried into her hands. Ignore her, Atticus…do what you have to do.
“Wait a damn minute!” Private Masters snapped. “I’m next on the list for a wife, and I was told—by Rafe—that I would get first pick of the next group.”
“And you have it,” I told him; I waved my hand at the other women. “Choose.”
Private Masters grunted and gritted his teeth; a noticeable vein throbbed in the side of his head.
“But I want this one,” he demanded, pointing at the brown-haired sister crying on the ground beside his boots.
“And you can have her,” I said, “if when Rafe returns he doesn’t decide to keep her for himself.”
Private Masters inhaled the deepest breath any man had ever taken; he stepped back, rounding his giant chin, his big hands clenched into unbreakable fists at his sides.
“Watch yourself,” Marion warned. “Atticus is right in this matter and you know it. All of us heard him: if Rafe doesn’t want the girl, then she’s yours; no one here will dispute that.”
Private Masters and I stood nearly toe to toe, until finally he relented, stepped back and sucked down his pride and anger. It was a good move, because two more seconds and I would’ve put a bullet in his head.
THAIS
I remained on my knees, sobbing into my hands, thinking only of my sister and what was to become of her. I cared little for myself anymore, knowing that no matter which man I would become prisoner to, that it would all end the same way: I would do what my mother did all those years ago and end my own life if I had no other way out.