The Woman They Kept (9 page)

Gideon gathered his wits and
rushed forward to help, but before he could get there Leanin reached
her bare hand into the fire and grabbed a hot ember. It flared up
with the sudden movement and she hurled it into the river. The
water lit up in thick greasy flames, engulfing the two who stood
waist high in it. They flailed wildly as the fire consumed them,
the thick smell of fat sizzling wafted over Gideon in a nauseating
fume. The third man had finally gotten his goggles off and was
staring dumbly at his friends as they burned alive. He turned
slowly after a moment and raised his arms.

“
Hey man, I give up,”
he said in a voice long since sacrificed to alcohol and cigarettes.
He eyed Leanin warily, his back to the still burning men in the
water. The fire was spreading in a line following the river,
lighting up the entire forest.

Leanin pointed her hand, still
smoking from where she had grabbed the ember, murderously at the
man. “Who sent you and why?” she asked.

Gideon could now see the man
fully in the light of the fire. He wore the leather armor of a
rider, a vest that he was undoing and great leather boots that
reached up to his knees. Pulling open his vest he revealed a large
tattoo of the grim reaper and the number thirteen on his forearms.

With a sigh, only barely audible
to Gideon, Leanin ran at the man and delivered a mighty kick to his
chest, sending him flying bodily back into the fiery river behind
him. He shrieked in pain, a high pitched wail that echoed in
Gideon's ears. Mercifully, the sounds of the three men dying only
lasted for a few moments longer.

“
Do you think that they
knew what we're after?” Gideon asked.

“
Your girl? I doubt it.
Even if they did, the thirteen has hundreds of girls in their
stables. More than likely these guys were just on the same road as
us and decided to have some fun. We should find a new area to camp,
I'm not terribly desperate to find out if there are more of them.”

“
Let me look at your hand
before we go,” Gideon said and he caught her by the wrist.
She tried to pull away but he held her firmly.

“
It's nothing, don't worry
about it,” Leanin protested as he looked at her palm. Big
pustules were forming in a ring on her hand, the few that were
popped already weeping pus and blood. Gideon took a cloth from his
bag and a little bottle of iodine and began to clean it. She hissed
as the cloth touched her skin.

Her hands were rough and
calloused but Gideon cleaned them gently, delicately touching the
burned areas. Their eyes met, her hand in his, and he saw her
features soften. Her eyes were a brilliant green, flecked with
spots of gold, and her pupils dilated as he dabbed at her wound.
After a moment he quickly turned away and grabbed a roll of gauze.

“
What was Rolanda like?”
Leanin asked.

Gideon blushed, unable to meet
her gaze. “She is kind, Cormac is a very poor bubble, kids
beg in the streets, and she never had any money to give them but she
would take them food when she could. The kids loved her.”

“
Was she beautiful?”
Leanin asked.

As he finished taping gauze
around the wound he held her hand for a few moments. Her face was
dark and smooth, like deeply polished wood, the hard angles about
her momentarily softened.

“
She is very beautiful,”
Gideon said and he gingerly let go of her hand. He turned his back
on her, taking down the tent. They weren't safe to stay there any
longer.

...

“
Do you know anything
about Fouchbough?” Leanin asked the next day. They had been
riding since dawn and finally stopped to take a lunch. The bubble
of Fouchbough was only a little way off in the distance, nestled in
a brown little valley.

Gideon shook his head and she
handed him a necklace with a large wooden 'A' on it. “What's
this?” Gideon asked.

“
The 'A' stands for
Abrahamic. It's a theocracy in Fouchbough, a pretty strict one too.
We'll have to blend in. Try not to talk too much.”

Gideon placed the necklace over
his head. “You'd think there wouldn't be a market for people
if this place was that religious.”

Looking at Gideon with a quiet
intensity Leanin sighed deeply. “You'd be surprised how hand
in hand they actually go,” she said.

...

Gideon's first impression of
Fouchbough was that it was a somber and dark place. The people
dressed in black and grey, the only ornaments they wore were the
wooden 'A's around their necks. They stooped and dragged their feet
as they walked, their backs curved, hard lines etched in their
faces. A woman on the corner was covered in sores and scratching
herself fiercely. There seemed to be only two age groups, young
children and people worn and wrinkled. Gideon smiled at a passerby
but did not receive a smile in return, and as he looked around he
saw that there was no joy on anyone's face in the street. Some of
the women swathed themselves entirely in a black cloth, keeping
their eyes to the ground.

“
Where are we supposed to
find a gangster in a place like this?” Gideon asked.

“
Why don't we split up?
Fouchbough is small enough, we should be able to do a bit of
searching apart. Let's meet here at the end of the day, I'd like to
sleep outside the city, this place bothers me,” Leanin said.

Gideon set off to the east,
along a main thoroughfare. The street was lined with small homes,
most of which had porches with rocking chairs at the front. There
were simple shops with hand painted signs at the top, but no
restaurants nor bars that he could see. Finally, after searching
for over an hour, he came to a small shop that had a chipped sign
reading, 'Blind Tiger,' in which people were drinking something
inside. The roof was bent in the west corner, sagging low, and the
walls were an unpainted wood. The corners of each window had dirt
that covered it like frost, the centers were the only clear part.
As Gideon walked up the steps a loose nail in the handrail stabbed
him in the palm, drawing blood.

Inside the establishment there
were a few tables sparsely populated and a long wooden bar. The
walls had a series of shelves with glowing jars on them, Gideon took
a closer look and found that each jar contained a different animal,
long since dead and floating in a pale yellow liquid. There were
hundreds of them around the place, illuminating the room in a watery
and thin light. Behind the bar a hulk of a man towered, writing
something down in a notebook and not paying any particular attention
to Gideon.

He sidled up to the bar and
leaned on his elbows. “I'd like a whiskey, please,” he
said.

The bartender didn't look up.
“Speak easy, friend. Easy,” he grunted.

Gideon leaned over and saw that
the bartender was not writing anything at all, but rather drawing a
picture of a flower. “I'd like a whiskey please,”
Gideon repeated, this time in a whisper.

The bartender stretched to his
full height and frowned down at Gideon, finally taking his attention
from the drawing. His knuckles whitened around the pencil in his
fist and Gideon could see the man's jaw clench.

A hand descended quickly on
Gideon's shoulder, startling him. To his side, dressed in a somber
black robe with an 'A' swinging from his neck, Akem Manah stood with
a grin on his face. “Relax, brother Simon. I'll explain
things to our friend here.” The bartender shrugged and went
back to his drawing. Akem looked strange dressed in the black robe,
a frilly white shirt coming out from around his collar, but his grin
was as sharp as ever. “You want to be careful how you do
things. Fouchbough is a dry city.”

“
What do you mean?”
Gideon asked.

Akem caught the bartender's
attention and tapped two fingers to his right eye. The bartender
nodded, and within moments was setting before them two large glasses
of brown liquid. Gideon tried it and coughed, it burned his throat
and made his eyes water.

“
Drugs, alcohol, and
prostitution are all illegal here," Akem said. "You
couldn't get a drink asking outright for it if you tried.”

Gideon sniffed at the drink in
front of him. “So how is it we're in a bar and you just
ordered us two drinks?”

“
We're not in a bar, we're
in the Blind Tiger. Didn't you take a look around? This is a freak
show, and what happens under the table no one talks about.”

“
Akem, what are you doing
here?” Gideon asked.

The smaller man gave him an
exaggerated wink. “The more people try to structure and reign
in humanity, the more I thrive. I do very good business in a city
like Fouchbough." He shrugged. "And maybe I am looking
after my investment as well. You haven't found her yet, have you?”

Gideon sighed. “No, but I
got a name from Daniel.”

“
You got more than a name,
from what I hear,” Akem said with a grin.

“
Malakir bought her,
apparently, but I don't know where he operates," Gideon said.
"I was going to ask the bartender if he knew where Malakir was,
but if I can't even order a drink right I don't know what hope I
have.”

Akem sucked loudly at his sharp
teeth. “I know where Malakir is."

Gideon's heart skipped a beat
and his face lit up. “You do? Tell me, show me, I have to go
there at once. No, I should get Leanin first.”

Akem laughed, a low rumble that
sent a chill down Gideon's spine. “You are such an innocent
child, I love that. Tell me, why should I help you find one of my
competitors to give him my money when you haven't even repaid your
original debt to me?”

The bubble of elation in Gideon
popped and his shoulders slumped. “I did a favor for you.
And I can give you your money back, and your suit. It's hardly been
worn.”

Akem lit up a thin black
cigarette. “I have no need, nor desire, for the money or the
suit. And who said that the favor covered the entire debt?”

“
What can I give you?”
Gideon asked. A creeping fear had wormed its way into the pit of
his stomach and he thought of the two lovers, hanging from their
tree, hand in hand.

“
Such an innocent. Don't
worry, I have plans for how you can pay me back. And one thing you
can do for me is easy. In fact, it's something I'm asking you
not
to do.”

Gideon cocked an eyebrow at him.
The man had a way of speaking, it was very vague, like wisps of
smoke on the wind. There was always the feeling that they were
playing a game, a game where the rules were never explained but the
stakes were astronomically high.

Akem took a piece of paper and
wrote something down on it. “Malakir's address. Now, when
you get there, you will probably find some nice little present and
things will play out as they always do with innocents. Feel free,
but after you leave his house you cannot get involved in what
happens in the town.”

Gideon was confused, trying to
keep track of all the pieces of the game he was playing. “I
don't understand, what do you mean, find a present?”

“
That's okay. I'll
simplify. Do what you will in the house, but once outside you have
to let things happen as they will, okay?”

“
What's going to happen?”
Gideon asked.

Akem smiled reassuringly and
waved a hand, brushing the question aside. “I can't predict
the future, but I can guess. It's a time honored tradition, you
don't need to know the particulars, but you have to swear you won't
get involved. Let things play out as they will.” Akem held
out his right hand, his left holding the slip of paper with
Malakir's address on it. Gideon hesitated for a moment before
clasping hands with him. “Good, we can consider part of your
debt repaid then.” He gave Gideon the slip of paper. “You
will find Malakir on the north side of town, he operates a brothel
called 'The Sparrow's Nest.'” Clapping him on the shoulder,
Akem stood. “Remember, do what you will in the house, but
after that leave things to happen as they will.”

Gideon nodded and watched Akem
walk out the door. He had never noticed it before, but Akem walked
with a slight limp, as though his shoes didn't quite fit correctly.
He shook off the thought and went to meet Leanin.

...

“
I couldn't find out
anything,” Leanin said. “Everyone seems so
self-righteous here. Daniel must have been lying.”

Gideon shook his head. “He's
here. I've got the address.”

“
How did you get it? I
couldn't get anyone to talk to me.”

Shifting his weight from one
foot to the other, he avoided eye contact with her. “Is it
important how? I got it, let's leave it at that.”

Leanin shrugged but kept her
eyes on Gideon as he walked through the streets and headed north.

The Sparrow's Nest was a short
grey building in the midst of a few square blocks of short, grey
buildings, each separated by a few yards of grass. There was no
sign on the front door, only an overly large peephole and a red
light bulb hanging above it. On the front stoop crushed cigarette
butts in various states of decay littered the ground. They never
would have found it without the address.