So, I was told there’s people interested in reading the stuff I write about my characters. I have a lot stored up, so there will be a flood of posts, probably followed by silence.
First will be Jinx stories, then Hurricane stories. Might even end up throwing some of my WoD character stories up here.
Bravo, October 2014. You may notice the beginning here doesn’t quite mesh with Decisions. I wrote this first, haven’t edited it yet. I may, sometime.
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I wasn’t sure about coming back to Bravo. But, I wanted to see Trench again, and I wasn’t exactly happy with the Swamp Clans. Not that I was unhappy, but…I feel less and less like a Rover these days. I still wear the scarves, I still have my family name, my clan, but, I feel alienated from them. I didn’t fit in there. I don’t know if I’ll fit in anywhere.
When I got to Bravo, it took me a while to find Trench. I could barely remember my way around, and had to ask for directions several times. When I finally found him, he was surprised to see me. His Rose wasn’t in town, he said they’d set the wedding for December. I’ll have to try to meet her before then. I met his new adopted sister, Dr. Webber. She seemed very down-to-earth and kind. He introduced me to Shortstack, this little Iron Slave girl he had hanging around him. I think he’s looking out for her. He told me about a memorial they had earlier that day, out at Boot Hill, for the ones that had been lost. He spoke about Stone then. A Full Dead woman told him that Stone was proud of him. I may need to speak with her again. We watched the Sainthood baptism for a while. I was surprised to find out that Trench had found religion. It seemed so strange for him. He was always fighting with Forty about it when we were together. It seems so long ago now. Then he told me some people from Broken Springers were in town. A girl named Kappa Alphi Omegan. My blood ran cold. It couldn’t be possible that I’d run into my family here. I told Trench I needed to find her. He took me around to see if we could turn her up, but when we got back to the center of town, there was a Hoochtoberfest drinking contest going on. He couldn’t very well not participate. It made me smile. Same old Trench.
A man named House said that the Broken Springer woman was named Vivi. I knew then that it was true, that it really was my family. Vivi had only just been born when I was captured, but I remembered her anyway. He took me out to where she was working at the Red Windmill, Bravo’s brothel. My little sister…working in a brothel. It made me…nervous. Uncomfortable. I know the clan is very casual about sexual relationships, but…whoring.
On our way back to Little Vegasia, we ran across Willy Mays. He’s a cousin of mine too. It just seemed too coincidental, running into my Gatorland family here in Bravo, of all places. He walked with us back to find Vivi. When I saw her, I knew her at once. She looked so much like our mother. She was giving a massage to someone. I was happy that’s all she was doing. She’s so colorful and young. She seems so happy.
I stayed for a little while, but I was uncomfortable with the level of innuendo, and decided to go see if Trench was done with his drinking contest yet. Apparently he barely lost. Shortstack was still with him. She’s so young, and I think recently free. Sitting there with them…it seemed natural, and yet, uncomfortable. Trench isn’t my husband anymore. I still care for him, but the relationship has changed. I’m not sure exactly how to act around him now.
After a little while, the level of discomfort became too high for me. I’m still easily unsettled these days. I told Trench I would see him around, and that I would come for his wedding, and I took my leave of them, heading out of town to camp out again.
Hurricane smiled, watching the children scamper off after today’s lesson. It was still good, teaching. Working with children. Even though it had a bittersweet tinge to it. She sighed, suppressing that.
After Trench had bought her free in Bravo, and she’d learned…everything she’d lost…she had started wandering blindly. Heading east. She had some vague idea about going to find her family again. Eventually she had run across a caravan, heading to the Atchflya outposts of the Swamp Clan. She’d bought passage by promising to teach some of their littles the basics of reading and writing. She hadn’t meant to stay, but she stayed all summer.
There was a kind of peace here. The Rovers were friendly, but allowed her to keep her reserve. She spent a great deal of time alone, either in the small room she’d been given, or outside, staring off into the swampy forest, mind wandering. Once she had stopped, she didn’t seem to be able to muster the energy to keep going east to find her clan. After a while, she realized she really didn’t want to go. She didn’t know what to say to them. She hadn’t seen any of them since she was twelve. So much had changed since then. She had changed so much.
Stone. It was all about Stone. She couldn’t let it go. Let him go, even though she had done so mentally all the way back when she left him with Trench, when he was five and the Warfares came after them. Now, knowing he was…well, she was obsessed, in a way that was almost disturbing to her, the few times she seemed to be able to look at it objectively. Few and far between. She couldn’t accept it. Couldn’t accept that he was….dead. Dead forever. She kept going over it in her head. He had all his infection. Trench waited for him, looked for him. Why wouldn’t he have come back?
She wanted to see him. She needed to see him, to talk to him, to hold him, to convince him to come back to the world. Come back to her. Trench had gone in, seen him, talked to him, but wasn’t able to get him to come back out. She couldn’t help but think she might have better luck. She was his mother. She had to be able to convince him. She had to see him. Had to.
Hurricane found herself packing her few belongings. She smiled wryly. Apparently she’d come to a decision without realizing it. She was going back to Bravo. She would find Trench, talk to him about the Gravemind, get him to take her in there. Show her how to go. Something. She’d find some way to get in there and talk to Stone.
She headed out to the outpost to see if she could arrange to go with a caravan. Safety in numbers. She didn’t want to visit the Gravemind by accident, after all. Although…death was a sure way to get there. She shook that thought off quickly. Caravan. Get into a caravan. Get to Bravo. Talk to Trench.
Talk to Stone.
Hurricane trudged down the path out of Bravo, not paying much attention to anything around her. Her heart and mind were in turmoil. It had been such a day of ups and down. Joy for her freedom mixed with grief for her son. Seeing Trench again after so long. Maybe she should have stayed in Bravo; she wasn’t terribly qualified to be wandering alone, but she just couldn’t bear it. She didn’t want to be dependent on Trench right now. She’d told him she didn’t blame him, and she didn’t, but….better to put some distance between them anyway.
The longer she walked, the more numb she became. What was she supposed to do on her own? What was the point of being free, without her son? She could live with the idea that Trench had moved on – she was happy for him. He needed a steadying influence in his life, and she was truly glad he’d found one again.
But Stone! Her heart still wept, though her eyes were dry. Trench said he tried to get him to come out of the Gravemind. Tried to save him. She believed him, but…a little voice in her mind said maybe he’d listen to his mother. Maybe.
Almost the worst part was the idea that the last years of her torment at the hands of the Warfares had been useless. He wasn’t safe anymore, and nothing she could do would make him safe.
She just kept walking, even though it started to get dark, even though she was tired and thirsty. She couldn’t bear to stop. If she just kept one foot in front of the other, she could slow her thoughts, make them march in some kind of order. If she stopped, she’d just start crying again and she wouldn’t be able to stop, and she wouldn’t be able to think, and she’d be vulnerable. Not that she wouldn’t be vulnerable walking alone, weaponless. She just…had to keep moving. It didn’t matter why.
This is the first time I ever played Hurricane, as an NPC at the Bravo March 2014 game. I loved the character so much I made an alt out of her.
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We’d been travelling for days before we got to Bravo. The master took us around the edges of town, down a rough path to the lake, while his goon went to town to rustle up buyers for us. I thought about how I’d come here, when the Warfares lost me in that card game. It was actually better with him than the Warfares. At least he didn’t hold a grudge like they did.
The buyers started to trickle in. There were a lot of people. One of the town’s deputies wanted to make sure everything would be legal. In Bravo they don’t allow slaves without proper contracts. It was agreed that the bids would be contingent on legal contracts being shown after the auction. The other Rovers were up first, Rocky and Hagar. The bidding got high and they were sold. Then the Iron went up. He was sold too. Then it was my turn. I couldn’t even look at them. The bidding went up high, and a man with a scarf around his face bought me for 20 brass. We walked back up the path to the town so the master could show the contracts to the buyers and make sure everything was legal.
On the path, the man who bought me came close to me. “Do you know who I am?”
As soon as he spoke, I knew him. “Trench.” I thought I’d never see him again. I clutched at him. “Where is our son?”
“Later, let’s back to town and get your friends free.” I nodded and we kept walking.
We reached the Outpost. Trench tried to make a deal with the other buyers to get Rocky and Hagar, and the Iron too, but they weren’t having any of it. They weren’t able to get them free. The master went in to get the contracts. What a laugh. The deputy couldn’t even read them. Another townsman, a Lascarian, said the contracts weren’t legal at all. The master did a fast escape, there were a lot of people there who seemed mad. The buyers took the others and left.
Trench came to me, took my shackles off. I held him close. It had been so long. “I thought you were dead,” he said. “Come on, let’s go in to town.”
We walked into town. “Is my family here?” He asked. I shook my head. “No, they…they lost me in a card game. They’re done with me…”
We got to one of their lodges, went inside and sat down. I asked again, “Our son, is he here with you?”
He broke down. “I…I don’t know how to tell you this,” That’s when I knew. “He’s…dead. Stone is dead.”
I started to weep. “How did it happen? I told you to take care of him, to keep him safe!”
“I tried, I tried but there were so many zed, I couldn’t do keep them off. He had gone off, you know how he could be, and then I heard him scream. I tried, I swear to you, I tried so hard.”
I couldn’t stop crying. “All this time…it was what kept me going, when your family…they…Trench, they punished me, they punished me, for you and for your sister…”
He cried too. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”
We cried together, for a long time. A man came in, and Trench introduced him to me as Rabbit, the leader of the Rover clan there. Trench told him that he couldn’t get the others free, that I was the only one he could save. He walked with us to Boot Hill, the memorial, cemetery place in Bravo. Another woman came with us. Rabbit asked for one of my scarves, and for Trench’s scarf too, and took one of his own. He tied them each into a special knot. “This is the four corners knot. It symbolizes the connections between us and our loved ones.” We reached Boot Hill, where he took a branch and propped it up. “We leave these things here to remember the people who can’t be with us, who we couldn’t save.”
He put his scarf on the branch. I followed suit, whispering, “Rocky…Hagar…Stone…” I broke down crying again. Trench added his scarf to the memorial. I stood there weeping. Trench held me close, as we mourned our son together.
Rabbit spoke again, “I didn’t know him…I’ll leave you here with your grief.” The woman asked if she could sing a song for us. We nodded, and she sang a beautiful melody. My knees started to give out, but Trench kept me upright.
Trench said that Stone had still had all his infection, “He should have come back, I waited for days, in that ruin, waiting for him, but he…he never came back out of the Gravemind.”
“I don’t understand…why wouldn’t he come back…why would he stay…”
“I don’t know, I just…I don’t know. When I first got here, I…there was a man, a Blue Man, he…he said he could give us a wish, a way to see someone we’d lost. And…I went with him, and I saw Stone, I saw him, and I tried to get him to come back out, but he…he wouldn’t come. He said he forgave me… I…I understand, if you can’t…I still love you, but I…I understand if you can’t forgive me…”
I looked up at him. Touched his face. “Trench…I…I loved you…I love you still. And…I forgive you.” He wept, held me closer. “But…I…I can’t stay…I…can’t bear it…”
He nodded…”I understand…” We stayed a while longer, then made our way back to town. He took me to his camp, to meet some of his friends. He told me how he’d spent so much time trying to make up for it, for Stone, and for all the things he’d done in his past. How he met a man and they formed a group, dedicated to making things better, to making this hell world into a little better place. He named it for partially for our son. The Wayward Sons. I thought it was beautiful. I thought what he was doing was beautiful. It made me think of what I could do, to make my own way, to create something better too.
One of the men in his camp, Ulfric, said something about how sometimes people don’t come back, if they don’t have the strength of mind. I started crying again…a woman dragged him off. Trench shook his head “Now’s not the time, Ulfric…” We met a few people, then he walked with me to the Outpost so I could get supplies for the trip. He told me about the baby Joseph, whose parents had died, and he helped care for him. I asked if I could see him. “Well…actually… he was kidnapped last night by Aggies. We’re about to put together an expedition to go get him back, we’re leaving tomorrow.”
I nodded. “Just…be careful…”
He laughed. “You know me…I’m never careful…”
We walked along, and someone came up to him. A big crowd was going off, and they needed someone to help disarm a trap. He said he needed to help me first, but in the crowd he saw there were several people who could help them too.
As we walked, he had one more thing to tell me. “I have something else to tell you…in the name of honesty…I…met someone recently…just a couple of months ago, really. I…I thought you were dead…”
I smiled through my tears. “Trench…all I ever wanted for you was for you to be happy. I’m happy for you.”
He shook his head. “I will never understand you Rover women…”
“And she’s good to you? What’s her name?”
“She’s wonderful…her name is Rose.”
“Did I meet her?”
“No…she stayed away. She thought it might be…awkward.”
I smiled. “I can understand that…but…we’ve both changed…it’s been a long time. I still love you, I’ll always love you…but we’re not for each other anymore…”
He nodded. “If you ever need anything, anything at all…you know where I am, you know I’ll do anything for you…”
“Of course…”
And we went our separate ways.
Not dead. She still wasn’t dead.
Hurricane curled up on her side in the dirt of her cell. Her lacerated skin burned with every movement, and she tried to just lie still. She had lost track of things. Of time. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been here. It seemed like forever. It was hard to remember sometimes, life before this. She tried to hold on to the reason she was doing this. The purpose behind this. Stone. Trench. Forty. They’d be safe.
The days were a blur of pain and her sleep was filled with nightmares. Dreams where they caught her son, where they killed him or tortured him like this. Dreams where Trench was the one hurting her. Dreams where Stone was. Those were the worst. She’d wake from those with tears in her eyes.
Since she’d been recaptured by the Warfares, she’d been kept separate from the other slaves. Occasionally some punishment they gave her would be a public spectacle, an example, but she didn’t see them to talk to. It made sense. She’d escaped. Bad example.
Sometimes she still worked, but mostly…mostly they hurt her and then left her alone to heal enough to hurt her more. She knew why. She had expected it. She just wished it would be over. They’d go too far one day, and that would be all. She thought, if she did manage to die, she wouldn’t try very hard to get back out of the gravemind. The idea of being a zed actually sounded rather peaceful by this time.
A sound interrupted her thoughts. The door scraping open. She frowned. She didn’t think it had been long enough that it was time for the next round. Well, it didn’t really matter. She didn’t bother to move. They’d pick her up if they wanted her.
Soft footsteps, and the rustling of someone kneeling behind her. She started painfully as she felt a touch on her back.
“Sorry, sorry…” A whisper came from behind her. New voice. Not a Warfare. She licked her lips and tried to focus.
“Wha…who’re you?” She grated out, still not moving. That touch continued, and this time it was accompanied by a kind of relief. Some of the pain lessened.
“I’ve been sent to fix you up.” Still a whisper, indeterminate as to age or sex. “I’ve never seen them treat anyone like this before.” A tinge of horrified awe.
Hurricane chuckled, or tried to. “I doubt you’ve ever seen anyone who escaped from them before.”
“No, but this seems…excessive, even for that. Even for them.” The gentle, healing touch continued.
She groaned. “I also ran off with their son, we killed their daughter and opened all the pens.”
“That would do it.” The voice agreed, a wry kind of amusement in its voice. “Well, I don’t think you have to worry about them too much anymore.”
“Why’s that?” A stab of fear in her gut. As much as she had wanted to die, the thought was still frightening out in the front of her mind when she wasn’t actively being hurt.
“Guerrilla has had a bad streak of luck at cards, and we’re being taken to pay the debt.” Now there was real satisfaction in the voice, and Hurricane almost couldn’t believe it.
“You’re not serious?” She croaked. “Guerrilla lost us….lost me…in a card game?” All of a sudden, she started laughing hysterically. Even though it was extraordinarily painful, she couldn’t seem to stop. Those hands tried to hold her still as she shook.
It was the most absurd end to this chapter of her life she could think of.
It was an uncommonly calm day. Trench and Stone were wrestling, Trench showing that tender side of himself that had strengthened since the birth of their son. Forty had gone off somewhere in the woods nearby, and she was sitting against a tree, ostensibly reading a book she’d traded for but really just enjoying the sunlight on her face, the sound of her son’s laughter mingled with her husband’s, the rare moment of peace.
All of that shattered in an instant as Forty came tearing into camp, alarm written clearly across his face. She jumped to her feet as he pulled up short of running into Trench, who’d gathered Stone up in his arms, even if the boy was perhaps a little old for that. Forty caught his breath for a moment, and in that second before he spoke she knew that something was terribly, terribly wrong.
“The Warfares,” he gasped, looking from her to Trench. “They’re here, on the road, and there’s no way they’ll miss us. We have to get out of here.”
Trench swore under his breath. “How far out? How long we got?” Forty shook his head.
“Not long, we have to go right now, and even then –” he broke off as they all heard it. Voices, and heavy footsteps. A lot of them. Still distant, but not far enough.
Everything seemed to slow down for Hurricane. All she could think of was Stone. If the Warfares caught him…what would they do to him? Kill him as a Remnant? Put him in the pens with the slaves? Take him in as a son, teach him their poison?
She couldn’t let that happen. With utter clarity she knew what had to be done. She pushed Forty roughly. “Move, there’s no time. Let’s get going.” He took off, blindly assuming they would follow as they always did. She turned to Trench. He was staring at her. Stone was starting to whimper, catching wind of his parents’ fear. Trench opened his mouth to speak and she put her fingers to his lips.
“There’s no time for you to argue with me. Get out of here. Take Stone. Keep him safe. If I stay behind and they catch me, they’ll never have to know there was anyone here but me and Forty. They’ll believe me if I tell them you’re dead, or long gone. They won’t have to know about Stone at all.” As she spoke, she was unwinding her clan scarf, the zebra print she wore, and tying it around Stone’s little neck. She gave him a kiss on the forehead, trying to imprint the sight, the touch, the very smell of him into her memory. No time, there was no time for anything.
“Hurricane–” Trench started to say, and she kissed him fiercely, stopping the words. “I love you. Don’t come after me. Take Stone far away from here. Take care of him, and you and Forty take care of each other.” One more kiss, another whispered command “Don’t try to save me,” and she shoved him away, putting him off balance, and took off running. Toward the commotion that was coming closer. She ran, and knew he couldn’t follow her, not with Stone, knew he’d have to escape the other way with Forty, knew he’d be safe. They’d be safe.
They’d be safe. She swallowed the ball of panic and despair threatening to form in her throat. She knew what the Warfares were capable of under normal conditions. She had no idea how much worse it was going to be for her now. She’d corrupted their son. In the escape, Trench had killed his sister. They’d blame her for that as well. She’d been party to the escape of most of their slaves, costing them money as well as children. She would be…punished. She had no doubt of that. She honestly didn’t expect to survive with all her infection intact.
But they’d be safe.
Hurricane smiled at her young son as he spit his mush down his chin. “Now, my little Stone, you have to eat breakfast. How else are you going to be strong enough to get your Bro-chievements when you grow up?” She didn’t often talk about her clan. Trench and 40 weren’t Rovers, and they weren’t Springers, and they didn’t need to know much. And Stone…she bit her lip. Stone wasn’t a Rover either, even though he was a Springer as much as she was. Stone was a Remnant. When he was born, the patches of hard, gray skin he sported were proof enough of that. It was why they’d named him Stone.
Most Broken Springers had a good attitude toward part-clan Remnants, but there were some who didn’t. And he was still so young. There’d be time when he got older to teach him about her family. His family. At least, her side. She didn’t know if they’d ever tell him about Trench’s family. She didn’t like to think about it. Trench had become a good man in spite of them, but she hated the idea that the Warfares might find out about their son. She shivered internally. What they would do if they found out didn’t bear thinking about.
She continued to spoon food into Stone’s mouth. He smiled and babbled at her. It was quiet this morning. Trench and 40 had gone off to see if they could find a settlement nearby. Trench didn’t like leaving her alone like this, since she couldn’t fight, but there wasn’t much choice. 40 couldn’t really go alone, being an Iron Slave, and Trench didn’t want to leave her alone with him either. He still had that jealous streak. She promised she’d stay in the tent, and stay quiet. So far there hadn’t been any trouble. This area seemed to be relatively calm.
Hurricane finished feeding the boy, and wiped his face off. He reached his chubby little arms out to her, and she gathered him up to cuddle, making faces to get him to giggle. She loved when he laughed. She kissed him on his forehead, and then he looked up at her and cooed, “Ma-ma.” For the very first time.
She was overcome by a wave of love like she’d never felt before. Never before had she considered killing, but at once she knew that if anyone or anything tried to hurt this child, her child, she would destroy them if she had to, to stop them. To protect him. And it wouldn’t matter if it was a zed, a raider, or a member of her own clan. It shook her a little. She had never felt a desire toward violence before, ever, even in all her years as a slave on the Warfares’ ranch. But staring down into Stone’s eyes, she couldn’t feel it was wrong.
“I’d do anything to keep you safe, my son,” she whispered, holding him close to her, resolve in her voice. “Anything at all.”
This particular story started off short and got added on to later.
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“You’re sure?” It was dark; she couldn’t see Trench’s face, but his tone was absolutely neutral.
“As sure as I can be. There’s not really anyone I can ask.” Hurricane replied, trying to keep her voice from shaking. For all their time together, all their conversations and intimacies, she had no idea how Trench would respond to this news. The one subject they’d never touched on was the future, either alone or together. She hadn’t wanted to think about it, and she suspected he hadn’t either. Now, they didn’t really have a choice.
He was quiet for a long time. Her tension grew as the silence went on. What would he say? Would he want her to – get rid of it? Their status as slave and slaveowner had never mattered since the earliest days of their relationship, but she was acutely aware of it now. She had no rights here, none that she could enforce, anyway. It was all up to him.
Finally he sighed softly and took her hand. Her stomach flipped over. “I kinda wanted to wait, but, well…would you marry me, Hurricane?”
She couldn’t help it; she started to laugh, a great weight lifting. “I can’t imagine that’d be allowed…but yes, I would if I could.” She would, too. Even if it meant getting an Old Man way too early by her clan’s standards.
“Oh hell, we’re not staying here!” He exclaimed in shock. “We’re gettin the fuck outta here soon as we can fix up a plan.” He put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “I was kinda waiting till I had some better way of keeping us safe and making a living before I asked you to run off into the wastes with me, but…I can’t have my kid be born in slavery. That just ain’t right.”
Hurricane shook her head. “You never cease to amaze me, Trent,” she said fondly. “So, a plan then…”
He nodded; although she still couldn’t see him, they were close enough now that she could feel the motion of it. “Yeah. I’m kinda thinking of making a bunch of chaos. Set fire to a building or something.”
“Someone might get hurt though. I’d rather do this with the least amount of violence we can.” She thinks about it a moment. “A distraction…”
“What if…what if we let all the slaves out? Get out in that stampede.” His voice was hesitant, not sure if this was a good idea or not.
She laughed delightedly. “Oh that’s perfect! Maybe more than just us will escape for good, too.” And stick it to the Warfares nicely as well, she thought.
“Okay, then, if you can spread the word, I’ll get the keys and we’ll do this…what, in a week? Is that enough time?”
“I think it’ll be too much time. Someone might spill.” Another thought occurred to her. “Trench…Forty has to come with us.”
“Forty? That Iron Slave who’s always hangin’ around you?” His voice was suspicious. “Why him?”
“He’s my friend. I’d like to see him free as well.” She smiled wryly in the dark and offered him a more practical reason. “And if your family recaptures him, he knows about us. That we’re…friends. They could…make him tell them.”
“Just friends? You didn’t tell him…?”
“I haven’t, no. It would have been…complicated.” She flushed a little in the darkness. “Besides, that’s private.”
He snorted. “Not for long, it won’t be.” He put a hand on her stomach. “I can’t believe you’re going to have a baby. It’s…crazy,” he said, his voice full of awe.
“I know, it’s such a strange idea.” Hurricane sighed and laid her head on his shoulder. “A nice idea, though. Having a baby together.”
“Hurricane, I – “ Trench swallowed, and his voice was raw. “I’m going to do everything I can to be a good man. For you, for our baby. Try and make up for my past. My family.”
She kissed him gently. “You don’t have to make up for your family, Trench. They’re responsible for them. You just have to be better than that.”
They held each other for a long while, not speaking.
*************************
After a while, Hurricane sighed and detangled herself from Trench. “We should get to bed. I’ll talk to Forty; tomorrow night, the three of us can meet up and make more plans.”
“Okay.” He kissed her quickly before they separated, creeping off to their respective places.
When she arrived back in the pens, Forty was still awake, his glow suffusing the place with its red light. “You’re out late. Again.” His voice was flat.
She flopped down on her pallet. “I know. We need to talk, Forty.”
“It’s that Warfare boy, isn’t it?” His voice was hostile, and she frowned.
“Yeah, it is. Trench.” She sighed. “We’ve gotten…really close.”
“I noticed. I don’t understand how you can feel that way.” He propped himself up on an elbow. “He almost killed you, Hurricane.”
“I know that. I’ve forgiven him for it. And he’s…changed. He’s not just one of the Warfares.” She looked at him seriously. “I know you don’t like him, but I need for you to get along with him, okay?”
“Why? What difference does it make?”
“Because, we’re escaping together. The three of us.” she snapped, losing patience. “I’m pregnant, Trench asked me to marry him, and we’re getting the hell out of here.”
Forty was silent for a long time. “Hurricane…is…are you sure you want that?”
“Want to escape? Yes. I don’t want to have a baby here.”
“I mean…you want to marry him?” He’s hesitant. “I just…is this something you chose?”
Enlightenment dawned. “You don’t think I agreed to it. The sex.”
Forty looked away. “The thought crossed my mind. He’s one of the masters.”
“It’s not like that, I promise. I…I love him. He’s not like the rest of them. He’s a…a good man, Forty.” She reached out and took his hand. “I don’t know if you can understand but…I want you to try. I love him, and he loves me, and we’re getting out of here, and I want you to come with us.”
“Why? What do you need me for?” He pulled his hand away abruptly. “You love him. You’re marrying him. You’re having a baby with him. What the hell do you want from me?”
Hurricane was stunned. She hadn’t expected the anguish she heard in his voice. “Forty…you’re my friend. I don’t want to leave you here. I don’t…I don’t want to lose you.”
He sighed. “I don’t want to lose you either. I just…it’s hard for me, Hurricane.” He wouldn’t look at her.
A glimmer of an idea started to form, but Hurricane shoved it down ruthlessly – it was completely ridiculous. “The basic idea is to open all the slave pens and escape in the confusion. Please come with us. I don’t want to chance you being one of the ones who get caught again.”
Forty laughed bitterly. “You know I’m likely to get you caught? Were you planning to do this at night, by chance?” He held up his wrists, the glowing bands picking out the expression on his face. Or lack of, rather. He was completely closed off.
“I hadn’t really thought about that,” she admitted. “I want the three of us to meet tomorrow night, to talk. Make plans.”
“This was your idea, wasn’t it? Taking me with you? He didn’t suggest it, I bet.”
“Yes, it was my idea. He barely knows you.” And he’s jealous of you, she said silently. “It was his idea to set the others free as a distraction though.”
“This is going to be dangerous, you know that, right?” He looked at her very solemnly. She nodded. “How far are you willing to go for this?”
She bit her lip. “I…as far as I have to,” she said finally. “I can’t have a baby here, Forty. God knows what they’d do if they found out.”
Forty nodded. “All right. We’ll meet…Trench…tomorrow.” The name was spoken with venom, almost spat. Again she was taken surprise by the vehemence. “For now, you should sleep. You need to take care of yourself if you’re having a baby.”
She lay back down, frowning a little. “Thank you, Forty. It means a lot to me.” He didn’t respond, and she rolled to her side, trying to sleep through the ball of worry in the pit of her stomach.
*********************************
Hurricane felt a headache coming on. Trench and Forty stared at each other with obvious hostility. They’d both started bristling the moment they’d stepped into the shed they were using to meet in. Forty’s glow illuminated everything in a surreal red. “Can you both stop waving your dicks around so we can get on with this?” She finally snapped, using the obscene analogy to hopefully shock them into compliance.
It worked, they both turned to look at her, mouths agape. “Look, I care about both of you. I’d like you to be friends, but if you can’t, I’d like for you to at least be civil to each other. If that’s too much to ask, maybe I’ll just escape by myself and leave you both the fend for yourselves. It’d be safer for me, if all you two are going to do is fight!” The irritation in her tone was palpable, and she was gratified when they both looked a little shamefaced.
“I…sorry, Hurricane,” Trench muttered, eyes downcast. He glanced over to Forty again. “Sorry…Forty,” He muttered.
Forty nodded, holding his hand out. “I’m sorry too…Trench. Hurricane.” Trench took it gingerly and they shook, both squeezing a little too hard but not actively trying to break the other’s hand. She’d accept that. Compromise.
“Okay. Trench’s idea was to open the slave pens and escape in the confusion. Forty pointed out that since he glows, he’ll be a beacon for them to follow us. That pretty much sums it up. Ideas?” She looked from one to the other expectantly.
“What if we wrapped him up?” Trench asked. Forty glared at him, and he addressed his next words directly to the Iron Slave. “I mean, what if we got you a lot of clothes and a cloak and stuff so the glow wouldn’t show through.”
“That’d be fine, except that to cover the glow, I’d have to be covered up so much I could barely walk, let alone run,” Forty replied sarcastically. “Not to mention the fact that Irons overheat very quickly when bundled up like you’re suggesting. I could quite easily die.” He scowled at Trench. “Unless that was your purpose?”
“Forty, stop it. He didn’t know any better.” Hurricane commanded. “Can we get him to the edge of the property without anyone seeing him?” She asked Trench. “Once we’re off the Warfare lands it won’t be as dangerous, right?”
“Maybe. It’d be tricky. And ‘not as dangerous’ doesn’t mean ‘safe’. There’s always zed, and raiders, and murdergoatdeer, and everything else that fucks with the world.” He shook his head. “If we can’t think of anything else, we’ll try that, maybe.”
“We could always do it during the daytime,” Forty said caustically. “The glow isn’t noticeable in daylight.”
“More guards, though…” Trench said thoughtfully. “I think…if we can get the rest of the slaves to go in one direction, and we go the other way, we’d be ignored, even with the glow. There’s only three of us. Not as much profit to try and catch us.” His tone was rueful, apologetic. Knowing that his family thought of them only as property, interchangeable…and until recently, so had he. “Especially if we tried to stay out of sight of the guardtowers as much as we can. I can help with that. I’ve been up there, I know where you can see and where you can’t.”
Forty nodded. “That could work. And – I can muffle the glow, even if I can’t conceal it completely, without overheating. Well…if I had the material, that is.” He smiled a little. “They don’t really give us much in the way of heavy clothes out here.” They – not including Trench among the other Warfares. A sign of conciliation, however small. Hurricane began to hope, for the first time since the two men had met, that this could actually work.
Hurricane knew, before she even opened her eyes, that it was going to be another bad morning. As soon as she sat up, she had to rush outside as quick as possible, and heave her guts up. Fortunately the nausea rarely lingered, so she could still work and wasn’t in trouble with the masters.
She wobbled back inside and lay down on her pallet again. Forty looked over at her in concern. “That’s the third time this week, Hurricane,” he whispered, worry in his eyes.
She nodded. “I know. I have no idea what could be wrong with me. Maybe I’m just tired…”She trailed off, face turning white as a thought occurred to her. It wasn’t true that she had no idea what could be wrong….
She thought back. Since the first – very bad – and the second – very strange – meetings with Trench, he’d continued to seek her out, every few days. At first it had been incredibly awkward – neither of them knew what to say or do. As time went on, Hurricane had become complacent with him, speaking her mind as plainly as she would to another Rover. Trench had been defensive at first. The things she told him – about his family, his home, his entire way of life – were hard for him to swallow. She had to give it to him, though, he was able to shake them off sooner than she would have thought possible for anyone. That was when she had kissed him.
She smiled. He’d been so thrown off balance by that kiss. It had been late one night. She and Trench had been talking, and hadn’t realized how late it was until it was far after slaves’ curfew. He walked back with her, in case someone should find her out, and he had just said something profoundly compassionate, something he couldn’t have said when she first met him, and she hadn’t even thought about it, just…kissed him.
After that…well, they still talked a great deal…but sometimes things became…more physical. They were both young. He was very sweet, and while she didn’t deceive herself that this could become anything serious, she cared about him very much. Loved him, although she tried to lock that down. It simply wasn’t practical. Her clan could be fairly casual about sex, though, and it wasn’t something she felt she had to….avoid.
Hurricane covered her face with her hands. Maybe avoidance – or at least more caution than either of them had taken – would have been a good idea. Now…now she had gotten sick, three mornings in a row. It wasn’t proof…but it was a pretty good sign.
Forty was gazing at her anxiously when she looked up again. She hadn’t told Forty much – anything, really – about her relationship with Trench. He knew they spoke frequently, but that was all. The young Iron Slave held a grudge against the Merican, even though she had explained that she had forgiven Trench for that beating and that he wasn’t like the other Warfares. It was…easier, not to go into details that were private anyway. Now…she bit her lip. She wasn’t sure she’d have much of a choice, in the end.
“I’m okay, Forty. I’m just…I’ll be okay.” She levered herself off the floor and extended a hand to her friend to help him to his feet. “Come on, I don’t want them thinking I’m sick. They don’t tend to react well.”
He snorted. “As if you have to tell me that. Please. Just…” He tugged on her hand till she turned to look in his eyes. “Just…tell me, if there’s something really wrong. I don’t think I could bear to…to lose you, unexpectedly.” His face was so serious.
“I promise, I would tell you. It’ll be okay, Forty. You’re not going to lose me like that. I’m your friend.” He nodded but still looked troubled. She didn’t know how he’d react, if it was true. Cross that bridge when she came to it. “Let’s get going. It’s too early for a beating.” They headed outside to start the day, and she talked and joked with him like any other day, even though her mind was still in turmoil.
Hurricane knelt at the wash basin, the sun hot on her back. “Cleaning up after Merican messes,” she muttered to herself. “Catch me ever drinking hooch.” She pulled one of the shirts out and eyed it critically before plunging it back into the soapy water. Still needed more scrubbing.
A shadow fell over her, and she glanced up. It was the newest child-come-of-age of the Warfare clan. Her blood ran cold at the sight of him. Since the beating a few weeks ago, he’d not been seen among the slaves. She wondered what he was doing here now, and she quaked inwardly.
He stood there, just watching her, and she eventually shook off her paralysis to glare at him defiantly. “Come back for round two?” She asked with a coolness that was mostly feigned. “I think I’m mostly healed up now, so you’ll have a blank canvas to work with.”
He flushed and looked away, not meeting her gaze. “Didn’t come here to beat you,” he muttered. “Why’d you do that in the first place? Get in the way like that. He your boyfriend or something?”
She stared at him, confused. “No, I barely knew him. I just didn’t want you to beat him. What difference does it make to you anyway? One slave is as good as another.”
“But he’s an Iron Slave. They’re built for that, don’t feel pain like we do.” He glanced back at her finally. “And he’s a guy,” he mumbled.
She raised an eyebrow. “Are you including me in that ‘we’? Because I assure you, there is no ‘we’ if you’re speaking of you and I. And I’m sorry, but whoever told you that Iron Slaves don’t feel pain was badly mistaken or lying to you. They feel pain like anyone else.” She turned her back to him, going back to scrubbing. “Maybe more than you do.”
“I wasn’t going to beat him up!” He burst out. “I was just going to hit him a couple times, show him his place, and then you stepped up there, and everything just…went to hell…” he finished lamely.
Hurricane looked back up at him. He was scuffing the ground with his foot, looking like one of her little brothers after he’d broken something he wasn’t supposed to have. She felt a pang of sympathy for him, but quickly quelched it. He was just another Warfare, after all. “So what, you decided I needed to be made an example of? That you needed to show all the slaves what a big man you were by beating up a woman?” She watched him carefully, tense under her brazen words. This was very dangerous ground to be treading…
“No, I just….I got mad. No one had ever talked to me like that before. Talked back. And then you didn’t react and I just kept hitting you and…” He trailed off awkwardly, staring at the ground at his feet.
She sat there a moment after he finished, mouth hanging open in shock. “Are you…trying to…to apologize to me?” She asked finally, voice incredulous.
He nodded eagerly, at last looking her in the eye. Blue eyes, she thought stupidly. He had blue eyes. “Yeah. Apologize. I’m…sorry.”
Hurricane couldn’t seem to get her thoughts to follow any kind of logical pattern. This was the strangest thing that had ever happened to her. They sat there like that, him standing a few feet away, her still kneeling, up to her wrists in soapy water, just staring at each other, for a long while. Finally she marshaled her thoughts enough to speak. “I can’t really accept that. You may be sorry for beating me half to death, but you’re still a Warfare. Just another master, another slaver. That’s not something I can forgive you for.”
His face froze a moment, then fell. “I….guess I can get that…” he said quietly. He continued to just…look at her. After a few more minutes she became uncomfortable, and then irritated. She had work to do, she couldn’t just sit here staring at him, like some kind of…lovestruck idiot!
“Well, if you’ll excuse me, master,” she said, pouring some sarcasm into that last word. “I should really keep on with my duties.” She forced herself to turn her attention away from him, back to the wash basin.
“Trench,” he said. She thought he was still watching her, but fought the urge look up again. “My name’s Trench.”
She bit her lip. She had avoided telling any of the masters her name. It seemed like it would be horrible, to have the name her mother gave her used by the ones who kept her against her will. But almost unbidden, it sprang from her lips. “Hurricane,” she said softly, glancing back up at him.
He smiled. “Hurricane.” He tipped his hat to her, like those Mericans did, and walked away. She stared after him a while, her muscles slowly relaxing as her body accepted that the encounter was over.
“Trench,” she whispered to herself. She felt her face getting hot for some reason, and shook her head, picking another shirt up and plunging it into the water. This was, definitely, the strangest day ever.
sillybit 