Hurricane: Interfere

Backstory. Though he’s not named, this is the first time Hurricane meets Trench.

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Hurricane sat down heavily against the back wall of the cell. Every muscle ached. It had been a long day. One of those days when the masters were never satisfied, and you had to keep on your toes just to avoid their eye. All she wanted to do now was sleep, if she could get her body to relax long enough. She closed her eyes, trying to will herself to loosen up.

“Everybody up! Inspection!” A new voice rang out in the darkness, with a familiar timbre, and she suppressed a sigh. Sounded like the Warfares had another damn kid getting old enough to throw his weight around among the slaves. In the few years since she’d been captured, she’d seen this over and over. Power play. She dragged herself slowly to her feet and went to line up with the others in the front of the pens.

She glanced up at the young man under her lashes. Much like the other Warfares – tall, thin, hair some indeterminate shade of blond. He glared at them and puffed himself up. Trying to be dominant, in control. Show them how much better he was than them. He strode up and down the line, making cutting comments and shoving people around. She schooled her face to impassiveness. It never did any good to give them an excuse.

Suddenly, a few feet down the line, one of the other slaves fell to his knees. One of the Iron Slaves, that she only knew peripherally, had managed to draw his attention, and the Warfare was getting ready to deliver a punishment, a demonstration. Without even thinking she pushed out of line and stood over the other slave, glaring at the young overseer. Up close, he couldn’t have been very much older than she herself was.

“Leave him alone! He hasn’t done anything!” Their eyes met as she scowled up at him, and he drew back his hand and slapped her hard across the face. She bit her lip to keep from crying out. She narrowed her eyes and stared at him. He seemed surprised.

“Get out of the way, girl, or you’ll get it instead,” he hissed at her. She shook her head.

“He doesn’t deserve it. None of us deserve what you monsters do to us.” Inwardly she was quaking but on the surface she only showed bravado.

His face was a mask of rage and he pulled her forward away from the others. “I think you need a lesson on what you do and don’t deserve,” he growled, pushing her down to the ground. She stayed quiet. She knew what was coming, and the best thing to do was just endure it. If you didn’t react, they usually lost interest.

Things got a little fuzzy after that. He beat her badly, and she tried to just take it. The next thing she really remembered, she was on her back in the dirt, and the Iron Slave she had stepped in for was staring down at her. She tried to sit up and winced. It felt like he’d beaten her fairly thoroughly, although she’d certainly had worse.

“Why did you do that?” The Iron whispered, wiping a damp cloth over her face. Her eye felt swollen shut, and she had a feeling that at least one of her ribs was broken. “Why did you stop him, make yourself a target like that?”

She shrugged a little, painfully. “It’s not right..” she grated out. “It’s not right for them to do that.”

“But you protected me. You don’t even know me.” He supported her into a half-sitting position.

“I don’t want to watch them hurt people. I’d rather just…take it myself than watch it,” she muttered, blinking a little to try to clear her head. “Is he gone now?”

“He is. He…I thought he was going to kill you for a while.” The Iron bit his lip. “Then he just…stopped. He just stopped and stared at you, and then he left. Didn’t even look at anyone else. Practically ran off.”

“Well, good. Keep him off everyone’s back for a while.” She struggled to focus on his face. “Thanks for helping me. I’m Hurricane.”

“Forty. You’re a strong person, Hurricane.”

“I just…do what I think is right. I don’t think about it like that.” She sighed softly. “Help me get up. I want to try to sleep before we have to work again.” 40 helped her to her feet and back to her pallet, concern written on his face. She smiled at him painfully. “Thanks. I’ll be okay. You should rest too.”

He nodded and settled down nearby. “Just wake me if you need anything.” She nodded and closed her eyes, hoping she could drift off past the pain. Another Warfare. This one might prove to be the death of her.

 

Hurricane: Sister

This is a vignette from Hurricane as a child. Shortly before her capture by the Warfares.

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Hurricane sulked from her seat on the porch. Ma wouldn’t let her come in till after the baby was born. She was old enough to watch, she knew all about babies. Ma had certainly had enough. She should know; as the oldest, she generally was responsible for making sure they were all accounted for, fed, and dressed in something resembling clothes. She taught them to read on her own though. It was fun, she was good at it, and she was proud of it. The kids liked her, even the ones that weren’t her sibs. The adults said she was smart. They liked her too. She liked listening to them. Most of them had been lots of places (they were Rovers after all), and all of them had interesting things to say.

“Hurricane!” Marny, one of the little ones, came running up to her. “Jack took my ball!”

She got to her feet, scooping the little girl up. “Is that so? Well, let’s go find Jack then.”

Jack was, predictably, hiding under one of the wagons. Hurricane put Marny back on her feet and knelt down to peer beneath the cart. “Jack? Do you have Marny’s ball under there with you? She’s missing it.”

“I didn’t take it!” He yelled, his voice muffled. She could tell he was lying. It wouldn’t be useful to confront him though.

“I didn’t say you did take it, I asked if it was under there. Is it?” She kept her voice calm and friendly. She’d found it was the best way to deal with littles. Adults too, for that matter.

“….Yeah….” came the reluctant little voice a moment later. She smiled encouragingly at him in the shadows.

“Can you bring it out for Marny? She sure misses her ball.” Her tone was wheedling, coaxing, and Jack responded to it, crawling out from under the wagon with the ball.

Marny snatched it away from him. “It’s Mine!” she shouted, sticking her tongue out. Hurricane frowned at her.

“Marny, that’s really not nice. He got you your ball back, you could say thank you.”

“But he took it!” she pouted.

“But he brought it back. That counts for something, doesn’t it?” Hurricane reasoned. She wasn’t quite as sure of her logic here, but the little girl seemed to accept it.

“Thank you Jack,” she muttered grudgingly, then darted away before anything else could be asked of her.

Hurricane gave Jack a hug. “That was very kind of you, Jack, thank you. I know Marny wasn’t the nicest about it. And I know you said you didn’t take the ball, and I believe you.”

He scuffed his toe on the ground. “I…I kinda did take it,” he mumbled. She smiled broadly, since he couldn’t see her face. She had been hoping for that confession.

Her voice was all surprise, no blame. “You did? But then why did you say you didn’t?”

He shrugged. “Dunno…” he muttered. She nodded.

“Well, it was very brave of you to tell me the truth. Thank you, Jack.” She hugged him again, which he tolerated a moment before squirming away, off to play some other game. She smiled after him as she returned to her seat on the porch. She loved it when she was able to solve the littles’ problems like that, without fighting and yelling.

“Hurricane?” She glanced up; the midwife was standing in the doorway now. “Do you want to come meet your new sib?” Hurricane nodded and sprang to her feet, heading straight back to Ma’s bedroom.

Ma looked tired, but happy, like she always did after a new baby. “Hey punkin. Come meet your sister, Vivi.” Hurricane climbed up next to her, eagerly peering down at the bundle in her mother’s arms. Vivi was sleeping, her little eyes screwed up tight. She already had dark curly hair, and her skin was like Ma’s.

“She’s pretty, Ma, she looks like you,” Hurricane whispered. Vivi woke up and stared up at her, not even crying. “Except her eyes are dark.” She held out a finger to the baby and Vivi grasped it, still staring at her. Usually new babies weren’t so focused.

Ma laughed softly. “Look, she likes you.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “No more children, I swear this is the last one.”

Hurricane grinned. “Oh, Ma, you say that every time,” Hurricane said, getting up and giving her a kiss on the forehead, taking the baby into her arms expertly.

“I really mean it this time. Last one.” She said drowsily, already drifting off. Hurricane smiled, and sat in the rocking chair nearby, holding her newest little sister.

“Vivi,” she whispered softly. The infant opened her eyes again, staring at her with that focused gaze. “We’ll be great friends, Vivi,” she whispered. “Great friends.”