The Benders (7 page)

“Stand up,” the voice behind me whispers. “Guards are coming back.”

I stand up, and the guard, marching past the line, gives me no notice. When he’s gone, I chance a look over my shoulder.

The bender behind me is much smaller and more feminine than the voice suggests. I realize this bender is deepening her voice on purpose. Though her face sports two black eyes, a busted lip, and dried blood in the corner of her mouth, I recognize her.

“Hey, you’re the bender we rescued a few days ago, right?” I whisper, inspecting her face. “Nada.”

“Shh,” she says, her beaten face hardening. “Don’t say my name. If they know I’m a run away, it’ll be bad for me.”

I nod, realizing that this poor kid was captured right after I freed her. How awful it must be out there for benders. Then again, it’s the same as it has always been for me—dangerous.

At first, I think she’s been beaten by traders, but I realize if she’s trying to conceal her identity, she may have done this to herself. I think of the brutal way she killed that trader and then look at her busted face. God, what guts to smash your own face. I want to ask, but suddenly I’m at the front of the line. My heart frantically flutters in my chest. No one has come out of the room looking abused, but still, an exam means Doc will know I’m a girl. And then what? Sent to the Breeders? If the Breeders had wanted me, they would’ve taken me. Do these people know I’m a girl? Do they think I’m a bender? My eyes flick to the door and to the guards with their handguns and batons. There’s at least three inside the building and another two posted at the door. Plus the guards at the tower by the main gate. I can’t escape, but I can’t go in there. Maybe if I can distract them—

A hand on my bicep urges me forward. “You’re next,” the guard says.

When I don’t move, Nada whispers from behind. “It’s okay. You can trust Doc.”

I stumble ahead like someone waking from a dream. The door on the left is ajar and a small electric light burns from a desk inside. I pause at the threshold, my pulse beating into my brain.

“In,” the guard says, shoving me.

I stumble in, and the door clicks shut behind me.

Doc sits on a stool beside a waist-high exam table. He wears a heart-listener thingy around his neck and rubber gloves on his hands. He nods at me and offers a reassuring smile.

“Sorry for the rough treatment,” he says, standing and gesturing to the table. When I don’t move, he tries again. “I’m not going to hurt you. Please, take off your clothes and have a seat at the table.”

I shake my head, crossing my arms over my bound breasts. “I’d rather not,” I say, my eyes floating down to his gloved hands. If they don’t know I’m a girl, there’s no way I want them to find out.

He frowns, runs a hand through his hair, and tries his smile again. “Please, I’m just going to examine your body and make sure you are healthy. Then it’ll all be over.”

I shuffle toward the door. “I can’t,” I manage. “I can’t undress.”

He sets his clipboard down. “Look, if you don’t, I’ll have to call the guards, and you don’t want that.”

“No, I don’t want that,” I murmur, trying to think. Should I jump him? He doesn’t have a weapon.

He strides toward me and I reach out to strike, but he snaps a handcuff on my wrist before I can twist away. He pulls me by my cuffed hand toward the exam table. I drag my feet, go limp, but he’s stronger than I thought. He cuffs my wrist to the metal loop at the end of the exam table. I sink to the concrete floor.

“This is ridiculous,” he says, panting as he stands over me. “I’m trying to help you.”

“If you wanted to help me,” I say, “you’d let me go.”

He glances away. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” I ask, tugging against the metal cuff. It clangs with the solid sound of captivity. “Why help them?”

He sighs deeply and slumps down on the exam table. Up close, I can see dark bags under his eyes and wrinkles on his forehead. I took him to be an obedient lapdog, but maybe he’s not.

“If I don’t do this job, they’ll get some sadistic bastard in here,” he says, nodding toward the closed door and the hallway. “You think I like watching them get beaten, get…” He stops and shakes his head. “I take care of them.” He lifts green eyes to mine. “I’ll take care of you.”

The words hit me hard in the chest. Nada’s reassurances echo in my head. Maybe I’m just exhausted. Maybe I feel friendless, alone. But for some reason, when I look into the eyes of this bender, I trust him. Slowly, with one trembling hand, I tug up my shirt, revealing my bound breast. It’s a raw and desperate act, but I raise my eyes up to the bender’s, pleadingly.

“I’m a girl,” I whisper, my lips burning as the words slip over them. “I’m a girl and you have to help me keep that secret.”

Shock registers on his face as he stares, but that crumples into concern. “How—”

“The Breeders don’t want me,” I say, tugging my shirt back on. “It won’t do you any good to sell me back.”

Doc rubs a hand over his face and stands. “Lord Merek doesn’t sell women to the Breeders.” He walks over the desk and rummages for something under papers and files.

“What does he do with them?” I ask, standing up as much as my cuffed wrist will allow.

Doc looks at me, but says nothing. He pulls what he was looking for out of the pile of papers. A walkie-talkie.

“What’re you going to do with that?” I ask, pointing.

Doc thumbs down the receiver, and the walkie-talkie crackles to life. “Ben?” he says into it.

“Who’re you calling?” I ask, my voice shrill with fear. I strain against my cuffs again.

Doc says nothing. The walkie-talkie squawks in his hand. “Ben here. What d’you need? Over.”

“Don’t,” I say, pleading. “Don’t tell them.”

Doc pauses, the walkie-talkie close to his lips. “If I don’t tell them, they’ll kill me. I can’t hide something like this.”

I shake my head, looking around the room for hope, for salvation. Instead I see handcuffs, rubber gloves, instruments of torture and captivity. I drop my head. How could I have been so stupid?

“Nada said I could trust you,” I say, my voice pathetic. I hate it, but the walls inside me are crumbling. Whatever Lord Merek does with his women, it can’t be good.

“What did you say?” Doc asks, lowering the walkie-talkie. “Nada?”

I bite my lip, remembering I wasn’t supposed to speak her name. “No, I—”

“You said Nada.” Doc takes a step toward me. “You know Nada?”

I look into his face. Slowly, I nod. “I freed her from a trader.”

Doc’s face contorts. He blows out a deep breath and sets the walkie-talkie down on the desk.

A loud pounding on the doors makes us both jump. A guard’s voice yells from other side of the door. “What’s going on in there?”

Doc jumps up and fumbles in his pocket. He produces keys that he uses to unlock my cuffs. When he’s close to me, he leans down and whispers frantically in my ear, “You have to choose and choose fast. I can tell them you’re a bender and we can try to keep this a secret. It’ll mean hard labor, but I can try to keep you safe.” His eyes find mine. They’re kind, soft. He means it.

“What’s the other choice?” I ask.

“I tell them you’re a woman. You might become one of Lord Merek’s wives. The life is easy compared to hard labor. But you’d have to do your wifely duty—”

The guard pounds again. “Wrap it up!”

“Do my wifely duty?” I ask, flicking my eyes to the door.

Doc chews his lip, standing up and stashing the handcuffs. “Choose.”

The door handle begins to turn. What should I do? Try to hide my gender and work on the line, or take my chances as a wife? I think of the gold ring around my neck, the weight of it. Clay. I can’t be someone else’s wife.

“Bender,” I whisper as the knob opens, but I’m not sure Doc hears me. The guard stomps in, his baton out.

“Thank God,” Doc says, frustration in his voice. “This one was giving me a hell of a time. Noncompliant.” He blows out a breath. “I tried calling you.”

The guard blushes. “Was out back for a minute.”

“Well, we’ll keep that between you and me if you do something for me.” Doc laces his fingers together and raises an eyebrow.

The guard nods. “Sure. What is it?”

“Teach this one a lesson,” he says waving a dismissive hand at me. “He thinks he’s special.”

It feels like a slap. I turn to Doc, my jaw slack. What is he doing? The guard grabs my arm and yanks me toward him. “Okay,” he says, pulling out his baton. “How many you want? Ten? Twenty?”

“Five should suffice,” Doc says, turning away from me. “Oh, and do it over the shirt. He needs to be able to work in the morning.”

“Five lashes coming right up.” The guard tugs me away. I’m too stunned to fight back. Why is he doing this?

“I thought we could trust you!” I scream as the guard drags me out the door. Doc says nothing. He doesn’t even look up as I’m dragged, kicking and screaming, out of the room.

The other benders watch dully as I’m pulled past them. I flail and kick. As I’m pulled through the door, I lock eyes with Nada. I hope my look says,
You were wrong
. I hope it says,
Don’t trust him
.

They throw me into the dirt face down. When I get up to my hands and knees, the first blow from the baton catches me just below the shoulder. It’s like one hundred tiny knives separating my flesh. I crumple into the dirt, tears filling my eyes. I won’t cry. I won’t.

Lash two is harder than the last. Lash three harder still. By lash four I’ve broken my promise. I sob like a baby.

I wake up with a crick in my neck bigger’n a barn and my mouth as dry as dust. For a minute the jostling and bumpin’ makes me think I’m in the truck with Riley. But then memory of last night smacks me upright. My eyes light on my cuffed wrists in my lap, then on my captor.

Nessa sits in the driver seat of the Jeep, her orange hair flutterin’ out of its clip. Her eyes locked on the road, she doesn’t notice I’m awake. I don’t move a muscle. I want to take it all in before she can paint her bullshit all over it.

It’s dawn, so it means we’ve been driving for hours, about six if my calculations is right. Six hours in what direction? Goddamn myself for fallin’ asleep. Felt a needle prick at the back of my neck just before we took off, and then it was goodnight Charlie. But Nessa don’t look tired. Maybe a bit red-rimmed ’round the eyes, but she’s got enough hate to keep her truckin’ for miles.

Her head snaps my way as she senses I’m conscious.

“Where you takin’ me?” I ask, my voice gone gravely.

“You’re awfully demanding for someone in handcuffs,” she says with a wink in her voice. She looks over at me and smiles. “We’ll be home soon enough.”

“Home?” I ask, sittin’ up. The landscape is bare dirt, scrub, and busted-up buildings, just like every other highway and byway I been on. “Home’s back with Riley.”

At the mention of Riley’s name, Nessa’s smile falls. “That girl—”

“That girl best be fine the next time I see her.” My blood simmers. I slam my chest against the seatbelt. “Where’d you take her?”

“She’s out of the way,” Nessa says, her voice flat and her eyes on the road.

“You hurt her and I kill you.” I lock eyes with my mother. I don’t give a rat’s damn that she gave birth to me. She left me when I was days old and never came back. I would end her with my bare hands if it meant Riley could live.

“Clay”—she says, honeyin’ her voice—“I own you.”

As her words slink over me, my anger flares, but I keep my eyes on hers. “A snake charmer thinks he owns his rattler, too.”

She snorts, dismissin’ me. When she looks away, I mark every landscape and every noise. A slanted, sun-faded road sign reads
Gibson Blvd SE
. I’m not familiar with that road, nor any after it. I figured she’d ship us to Albuquerque and her precious hospital. But we woulda been to Albuquerque by now. The roads here are clotted with dead houses, all broken and sucking in sand like open mouths. Piles of brick and terracotta have fallen onto the two-lane road. This was a family-friendly suburb before the population took a dirt nap. I see rusted tricycles and faded plastic play structures tipped over in dry back yards. An old dog leash, frayed and dry, lies across a sand-covered sidewalk. When food got scarce, dogs were one of the first animals to go. I heard they was so tame you could call ’em over and slit their throats easy. Nasty stuff. I look away from the dog leash and try to stamp down the anger that’s buildin’ inside me. Anger’ll make you fool-headed.

The houses space out and then fall away and more scrub takes its place. The few Jeeps that was with us when she picked me up in town are gone. It’s just me and her on the open road. I like them odds.

“Where’s your entourage?” I ask, tuggin’ on my cuffs. “Aren’t you supposed to be forcin’ girls to pop out babies at the hospital?”

She purses her lips, lookin’ uncomfortable with my question. “Things there became…” She clears her throat. “Things became complicated at the hospital. Dr. Bashees…” She shakes her head and continues. “They just don’t understand what I’m trying to do. So they gave me some leave and time to do some experimentation. And I thought, ‘What better time to reconnect with my son?’ We’ll be able to get so much closer.”

Her voice makes my skin crawl. “The minute I get the chance I’m gone. You think you can keep me?”

Nessa smiles like she anticipated this. “Check the back seat.”

Slowly I turn and peer in. At first, I see nothing but an old blanket, but then I notice tufts of brown hair blowin’ in the wind. Ethan. I whip around.

“From everything I hear, you seem to think this Ethan boy is your brother Cole reincarnated. But Cole’s died on your watch, right?”

Cole. Just the sound of my brother’s name snaps me back to that day. The pain of it. “Stop.”

“Did he die in your arms?” she asks, fixin’ me with a look as she lets up on the gas pedal.

“Stop talking ’bout him.” My teeth are clenched, my hands fisted.

She shrugs, looking like a cat that’s tired of toyin’ with a mouse. “Try to escape and I’ll think of something particularly awful to do to that boy. I have a very vivid imagination.”

I bite the inside of my cheek until it bleeds. Having Ethan here changes things. At least he’s safe. But Riley? I burn with the sorrow of lettin’ her through my fingers. I promised never to leave her, and here I am without her. I got us into this mess. She trusted me, and I let her down.