Blood Red Road (15 page)

I ain’t hurtin you too much, am I? she says.

I know my body’s sore. It must be. But I feel the hurt from a long ways away, like in a dream. Like I ain’t inside my body no more. Like I’m floatin around somewhere outside it. I’m sorry, I whisper to Em.

Sorry fer what? she says.

You shouldn’t of had to see that, I says. Her an the Pinches stood with the Cage Master on his balcony. She saw everythin from start to finish.

I was so afeared, she says. She would of killed you if she could.

I ain’t gonna let nobody kill me, I says. I’m gonna live. I’m gonna live an I’m gonna git us outta here an we’re gonna find Lugh. I promised him I would an I … oh Emmi … Emmi, what’re we gonna do? What am I gonna do?

An that’s it. I’m undone. The tears trickle at first. She tries to wipe ’em away, but they start comin too fast.

Shhh … She strokes my face. Shhh … don’t let ’em hear you, she says. Don’t ever let ’em hear you cry.

She gives me the cloth to stuff aginst my mouth.

She lays down beside me on the bunk. She puts her skinny little girl arms around me an holds me tight. It’s all right, Saba, she says. Everythin’s gonna be okay.

I double up in pain. I howl into the cloth, my whole body shakin.

I weep fer the girl with the butterfly on her cheek.

I weep fer Emmi. Fer Pa. Fer Lugh. Fer me.

Fer what we used to be.

Fer what got took from us.

Fer what’s lost to us ferever.

T
HEY CALL ME THE
A
NGEL OF
D
EATH
.

That’s because I ain’t never lost a fight. Every time they take me to the Cage, I let the red hot take me over an it fights till it wins.

If it’s the third time unlucky fer the girl that’s jest bin beat, I turn my back so’s I don’t hafta see her run the gauntlet. I cain’t help hearin, though. The bayin of the chaal-crazy crowd, like a pack closin in on their kill.

I close my mind off. Don’t let myself think about it. I gotta stay alive. Gotta git outta here an find Lugh. He’s still out there somewhere, waitin fer me to come. I know it. They could be keepin him right here in Hopetown.

Hopetown. It’s a cesspit, jest like Mercy said. Every scurfy villain that ever crawled outta a dunghill seems to find their way here.

An the Tonton. They’re everywhere, also like Mercy told me.

They’re personal bodyguards to the Cage Master, who watches the fights from the comfort of his balcony. They control the Gate, checkin who comes into an outta Hopetown. They’re in the watchtowers, one at each corner of the palisade surroundin the city. They’re in charge of the armed guards who control the Colosseum crowds an patrol the streets. They’re in charge of the scum who guard us here in
the cellblocks—one block fer the men fighters an one fer the women—an supervise us in the exercise yards.

An the Tonton in charge over all of ’em is DeMalo. They say he answers to the Cage Master, but from what I seen that first day, DeMalo don’t answer to nobody but hisself. From time to time, he stands on the Cage Master’s balcony while a fight’s on. I ain’t never seen him close up agin. An I hope I never do.

But all the guards an the watchtowers an the locked cells an the chains that bind me … none of that’s stopped me tryin to git away.

The first time, I waited till it was night, then I picked the lock of my cell with a rusty nail I found in a corner of the exercise yard. I got caught tryin to lift the keys from the guard’s belt while he was forty winkin it.

The second time, I was on the way back from the Colosseum when I punched my guard in the face an made a run fer it.

Both times, they shoved me into the Cooler to try an break my spirit. That’s what they always do with troublemakers. But a few hours locked in a metal box unnerground ain’t gonna stop me tryin to git outta this place an they know it.

That’s why they started chainin me to my cot all the time I’m in my cell. That’s why they keep me in a locked transport cage on my way to an from the Colosseum to fight. An that’s why they search me before they lock me back in my cell.

But they don’t ever hurt me. Don’t ever lay even a finger on me. I don’t fight more’n twice a week. The Angel of Death’s
a big draw fer the crowds. I’m the best thing that’s happened to Hopetown in a long time. They wanna make sure it lasts.

I dunno what kinda deal the Pinches made with the Cage Master, but whatever it is, they must be doin fine by it. Sometimes I see her, Miz Pinch, on the Cage Master’s balcony, watchin me fight, but other’n that, I ain’t had no more to do with any of ’em.

I also ain’t seen Emmi. I hate not knowin if she’s okay or not, but I ain’t got no way of sendin a message to her. All I can do is hope that she’ll find a way of sendin one to me. An that she’s somehow keepin outta the way of Miz Pinch’s fist.

I’m well fed. I got my own cell an a cot with a blanket. Th’other girl fighters is all kept in one big cell together an have to bunk down on the cold ground at night. They don’t git no special treatment.

Even the watch captain, Mad Dog, keeps his distance from me. He’s called Mad Dog on account of the times when he’s so hopped up on chaal there’s no tellin what he might do. An he does plenty. To the guards, to th’other fighters. But not to me. He don’t dare touch me.

So I eat what they give me, fight when they make me, an look fer my chance to git away. I’ll take any chance at all. A guard lookin th’other way. A door left open at the right time. Anythin. They can slam me in the Cooler all they like. I only gotta git lucky once.

In the still of night, I sit or pace my cell. I don’t sleep more’n
a hour or two at a time. An that’s because the moment I shut my eyes, the darkness comes fer me. It slithers outta its hidin place to wrap me in its cold cold arms. It slides into my blood, my bones, my soul. It squeezes out all hope.

If I let it in, I’ll never git outta here. I’ll stay an fight in the Cage till I start to lose. I’ll stay till I die in the gauntlet.

I’m afeared that, in the end, the darkness will turn out to be stronger’n the red hot.

The moment I shut my eyes, it comes.

The darkness comes.

The darkness an the dreams.

I’m in the Colosseum
.

It’s silent. Empty. Dark. The dead time of night
.

I’m in the Cage, my feet bare, my clothes in rags. I rattle at the door, but it’s locked. I’m trapped inside
.

I feel a pricklin at the back of my neck. Slowly I turn
.

They all stand there. Every girl I ever fought. Every girl I beat an sent to the gauntlet. Locked into the Cage with me. They ain’t nuthin but shadows, their faces in darkness, but I know them. Each an every one. The color of her eyes, the shape of her nose, how the fear smells on her skin
.

They start movin, glidin towards me on silent feet
.

Fergive me. I whisper it, say it, scream it—fergive me fergive me fergive me—but no sound comes outta my throat
.

They’re on top of me now. They surround me. They pull me down
.

Thick darkness, like a blanket
.

Voices. Whisperin. Mutterin. Sighin. But far away, so’s I cain’t make out the words. Then, Saba! Saba, help me!

Lugh’s voice. But when he was small. Emmi’s age
.

Lugh! I call. I’m here! I’m tryin to find you! Where are you?

I dunno! Hurry, Saba! It’s so dark. I
 … 
I’m frightened. He starts to cry
.

It’s okay, Lugh! I call. I’m gonna find you! Keep talkin so I can find you!

I cain’t! I cain’t! Saba! They’re comin!

He screams
.

Lugh! I yell. Lugh!

Silence
.

Then the voices agin. Closer now so I can hear what they’re sayin
.

Too late
 … 
too late
 … 
too late
…

No, I whimper. No! Please! Lugh! I’m here! I’m comin!

I drag myself outta the dream. I’m soaked with sweat. I sit up, my heart poundin.

I wait. It always takes a couple of minutes fer me to come to, to git my breath back. My blanket’s all twisted an tangled with the chain on my right ankle.

Every night I dream of Lugh. I never see him. Only hear him. Sometimes he’s frightened an callin fer me, like tonight. Other times he’s angry, shoutin.

Gawdam you, Saba, where are you? What’s takin you so long?

But the worst dream is the one where he says my own words back to me.

I’ll find you. Wherever they take you, I swear I’ll find you
.

Over an over, never endin until I wake up an it stops.

Some nights I fall back to sleep after the dreams, other nights I lie awake an wait fer the dawn to creep into the cellblock. I roll my blanket unner my head, lie back an wait to see what it’s gonna be tonight.

Was it a bad ’un this time? A whisper from the cell next to mine. The one where they keep all th’other female fighters locked up together.

I don’t say nuthin. I don’t like to talk to them I fight or them I’m gonna hafta fight. An none of ’em talk to the Angel of Death. They’re afraid of me. I reckon it’s better that way. I know most of their voices though an I don’t recognize this one, so she must be new. A low, soft voice. Nice.

I heard you last night too, she says. An the night before. Ever since I came.

Now I know. They brought in a girl three nights ago. Tall an thin. A bit sickly lookin. A few years older’n me, maybe twenny. She lost her first fight today.

If she hears me, that means the rest of ’em can hear me too. It’s dangerous to let yer enemy see weakness. Weakness can git you killed. Then, it’s like she sees inside my head. She says, It’s okay. Nobody else knows. Jest me. I don’t sleep much.

I hear her shuffle closer to the bars. I cain’t see her, not even her shape in the dark. The cellblock ain’t got no windows. It’s lit by torches durin the day an when night comes, it’s black as black.

You lost today, I says. I heard ’em talkin. They say you didn’t even try.

I ain’t no fighter, she says, not like you. The sooner I lose, the sooner it’s all over.

You wanna die? I says.

I wanna be free, she says. I ain’t never bin free. Not my whole life. She’s quiet fer a moment or two. Then she says, D’you mind that they call you the Angel of Death?

No.

The other girls’re afeared of you. They know that if they fight you, it’s the end.

I don’t say nuthin.

My name’s Helen, she says.

I’m Saba, I says.

Saba. That’s a nice name.

I pull my blanket around me an lie down.

G’night, Saba, she says. Sweet dreams.

G’night, Helen, I says.

An I sleep.

Emmi’s figgered out how to git herself into the cellblock to see me. She’s started to come in with the water carriers. They’re the grubby kids who turn up first thing every mornin jest before dawn. They come with their buckets of fresh water an empty ’em into the troughs that run along the edge of the cells. Emmi slips out to see me an is back at work with her morning chores before the Pinches wake up.