Refugee Road (Freedom Fighters Series Book 1) (11 page)

He turned to me sharply. “How did you know? What…”

“Her name is on the wall. One of the first written, in Darren’s handwriting. I always wondered who she was.” I crossed the room to him and squeezed his arm. “I’m sorry for your loss. I’ve prayed for her soul along with my family for years.”

He looked touched, patting my arm. “I thank you for that.”

“Jamie, she was engaged to Darren, wasn’t she?” Mal shook his head. “I know the loss hit him hard. He’s spoken of her once or twice to me.”

Ballard stiffened. “He never did right by her, only made false promises and kept her waiting by his side.” He took a deep breath. “My hatred for him is only outweighed by the militia.”

“I understand,” Mal stood, “we will leave after breakfast in the morning.”

“You can always come back, if things take a turn for the worse.” He offered.

Mal clasped arms with Ballard. “If you ever change your mind or are in need of help, seek us out. Not all of us are like Darren.”

“I appreciate that. You are always welcome here, both of you.”

Later that night Mal paced the small bedroom while I lounged on the bed. His thoughts were not hard to discern. He was thinking of our conversation with Ballard. We both were. He stopped abruptly and walked to the bed, kneeling beside me.

“Let’s just stay.”

“What? What are you saying?”

“Let’s stay here. Me and you. We can make a life here, together,” he pleaded. His eyes held something I wanted to pretend didn’t exist, a deep desire to push our friendship past the point of no return. “It would be easy, like breathing one breath to the next. We could you know.”

“Mal,” I breathed, trying my best to be firm, “we have an obligation back at Darren’s camp. We can’t just leave like that. Without a word.”

“We could,” he argued, “I could wake up every day the rest of my life like this and never regret it.” He leaned close to me. “I know you could too.”

“I can’t,” I whispered, my heart breaking, “we have to go back.”

What of my promise to Alec? I loved him. Mal could not ask me to choose. It wasn’t the same. I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t think like that with Mal. We were like family, like blood.

Mal’s eyes dipped to the chain around my neck and the cross. “He gave it to you, didn’t he?” He asked softly.

“Yes,” I admitted. How did he know my thoughts?

Something in his eyes changed. They grew more distant. “Is he the reason?”

I had no idea how to respond to that. “I don’t know.”

In truth I wasn’t sure. It was more than Alec. More than a simple yes or no. How could I begin to explain?

“You don’t know…or you won’t say?” His voice broke and he looked away.

“Mal, look at me, please,” I placed my hand on the side of his face. “Please don’t act like I don’t care about you or love you because I do.”

He groaned and lowered his head to my shoulder, burying his face in my neck. “Not enough though, not nearly the same as him.”

I held him tight, refusing to acknowledge or refute his words. I could not bring Mal pain. It hurt too much. “Hold me,” I asked in his ear, “hold me this night and don’t let go.”

Mal pulled me into his chest, almost crushing me with his embrace. I felt his grip tighten as we lay there. Too much was unsaid between us and not enough words would make it right. A frown marred his handsome face, his bright blue eyes restless and distant. I kissed his cheek and let my head fall to his shoulder so I would not have to see anything else in his eyes.

He was as open and honest as he was intelligent. Mal always said the way he felt, until now, this night. I sensed he was holding back, and in truth, I really did not want to hear it. My heart could not contain the truth. Denial was my anchor, and I held onto it, as if my life depended on it.

I convinced myself it was just the thought of returning to Darren and our life in the refugees that made him react this way. Once we were back home everything would return to normal. The same consistent life we had lived since we met. We would set out on the raid tomorrow night and deal a blow to the militia’s forces. Nothing was going to change. Nothing at all.

It was late afternoon when Mal and I approached the base. He was still holding my hand, determined as ever to protect me from whatever fate lay in store for us when we returned. Three days we had been gone, almost four. The raid was scheduled for tonight. Darren would be furious at our late arrival.

We waved to the guards at the front gate, walking through the hidden mountain entrance.

“Hey,” Mal spoke softly, “whatever happens. I left of my own free will.”

“I know. Thanks Mal.” I kissed him on the cheek and dropped my heavy backpack, relieved to be home at last. “I’m sure everything will be fine-”

“Mal! Lizzie!” I heard Darren’s voice and turned, only to see him running toward us, a thunderous look on his face.

Mal put his arm around me, half turning his body to shield me. “Darren.”

In confusion I didn’t notice the rope that hung in Darren’s hands. “Guards!”

Mal was yanked from me, his arms restrained, as several guards subdued him. Instead of watching Darren, my eyes were locked with Mal’s. I saw them widen in alarm. “Lizzie, watch out!”

Darren grabbed my hands and starting tying the rope around my wrists, binding them together. Stupidly I stared, not comprehending what was happening. Behind me I hear Mal fighting with the guards, trying to break free. Darren dragged me across the field to a tall wooden post buried in concrete in the ground and tied the rope off, leaving my body dangling, too low to stand and too high to rest on my knees.

“Darren?” I asked, my voice small and frightened. “What are you doing?”

I still didn’t put two and two together. I felt Darren at my back, then the rip of my clothing as he cut my shirt, bra, and tank top vertically with a knife, exposing the flesh of my back. A sudden gust of wind hit the fabric and lifted it slightly and I shivered, half from fear and half from shock.

“Mal!” I whimpered. What was happening?

After the cool breeze, my body tensed in expectation, uncertain of the reason for my fear, and agitated at the cruelty of my condition. The horrible exposure of my naked skin. The confusion of my imminent punishment. I was laid bare, visible, and dangling like a criminal to anyone who watched.

“Lizzie!” I heard Mal struggling.

My heart was pounding wildly in my chest. It thudded so loud, every other sound was cancelled out, except one. A single crack split the air, a gush of wind, and then fire. Fire lit up my back. A line of excruciating pain and terror, a red hot strip of molten lava that seared my flesh all the way to the bone. It stripped the life from my body and I fell limp, tears of agony pouring from my eyes.

I had just enough time to draw a fresh breath into my body when the crack hit the air again and lit up a second slash, deeper than the first, drawing forth an inhuman cry from my lips, a wail of such horror and anguish, of unending pain and suffering, I could hardly register it was my own. The lash burned and stripped conscious thought, confusion and pain warring for the dominant attention of my mind. What had I done to deserve a flogging?

A shadow of rich ebony inched toward my consciousness, reaching with curling tendrils of white hot pain, circling my head, and then descending on my body with ferocious abandon.

“Let me!” A voice cried out. “Please Darren, let me take her lashes. Dear God, take me instead!” Mal was crying out somewhere behind me.

“She takes her punishment herself,” I heard him answer, anger vibrating the words.

I was glad, no one else deserved this, certainly not Mal. It was my defiance. My refusal to bend to Darren’s will. My insistence and hard minded resolve. I chose to disobey him. I decided to leave the camp. My decision alone to be rebellious. Me and no one else.

Darren would not allow my defiance or insolence. He had warned me. I played with fire anyway and lost, took a gamble and threw the dice, only to have it backfire in the most horrendous of ways. I had broken the rules, Darren’s rules, and now I was being punished. He would not be made a fool. I should have been smarter. I should have left when I had the chance.

Let him whip me then. I could not stop him.

“Lizzie!”

Behind me I heard Darren drag a ragged breath into his body. The trickle of something wet and sticky, hot and thick, was running down my back and dripping onto the ground. I heard the steady drop, honed in on the sound as it landed with a solid plop. Blood, my blood, oozing from the lashes on my back. I sucked in a huge breath, the sound hissing through my teeth. Behind me the sound of Darren pacing and Mal still struggling faded in the distance. All I saw was blood…

My heart was beating so fast and loud I could hardly perceive why, in that lonely few seconds, I was able to hear the single drop of blood as it hit the dirt below me. It seemed out of place, that small sound. Infinitely tiny and yet a megaphone could not have announced it louder. It rang in my ears, or perhaps the ringing came from the shock, and reverberated throughout the corridors of my mind.

I sucked in another breath and filled my aching lungs. The simple act of drawing breath was agonizing, pulling on the skin from my back, making it taut as it stretched the open flesh of my wounds. I felt the sting of the lash all the way through my body, until it felt like every bone, every cell, had been hit with the impact.

With horror I realized Darren was not yet finished. Why did he wait? Why did he linger? Was this part of my punishment, to wait agonizing second after agonizing second, for the lash to repeat its terrifying whip against my flesh? To fear the crack that brought forth fire? I whimpered against the pole, biting my lip until it dripped metallic blood into my mouth, the copper taste bitter, refusing to give him what he wanted.

I would not beg. I would not ask for forgiveness. Proud defiance welled up in my heart and I forced myself to stand, my legs shaking beneath me, almost buckling from the pain and shock. My arms felt the strain of the rope as it pulled tight, rubbing against the skin of my wrists. I would not cower. He would have to whip me into submission.

The black cloud danced on my subconscious, bouncing around the perimeter of my mind. My entire body trembled with the knowledge of what was to come. The lash had not yet finished its task. It hid in the background, awaiting its strike, a snake with venom, fangs of pain, awaiting the moment of precise contact.

“Lizzie!” I heard Mal yell, a moan of anguish falling from his lips.

It was the only warning I had. The final crack split the air and fell with a finality that forced my body, like a baseball bat hitting a ball, into the pole. My head smacked against it, the weight of my body hurdling forward, and jamming my skull into the wood. I fell, the wind knocked from my chest, and heard the snap of my wrist as it broke from the strain.

I never felt the third lash hit my back. I’m sure it would have been even more excruciating, but the pain in my wrist and my head, searing and piping hot, now overshadowed my back, and I plunged down into the darkness that awaited me, never to awaken again. My last few seconds of consciousness I heard screaming, running feet, and Mal’s voice calling my name. After that only blissful silence, engulfing me in its protective cocoon, until nothing penetrated, not even the knowledge of my fate.

Where was Lizzie? Alec had not received any letters in weeks. No visit in two months. He had not seen her since the day he gave her the necklace. Nervous agitation mixed with fear settled into the pit of his stomach. Something must have happened. She would not have brushed him off, he was certain of it.

Alec was torn. Torn between hunting her down and making sure she was all right and leaving the base where he could be discovered and captured, ruining his chances at a life for them together. How did he find a way to contact her? How did find a way to meet with her? Anxiously he removed her last letter from his pocket and read it again, for the tenth time.

My dearest Alec,

I am forever under lock and key. I am accompanied by Darren wherever I go. He watches my every move, waits for me, follows me, and never leaves me alone. Only when I sleep at night do I have the luxury of solitude and a moment of peace.

I miss you. I find myself wishing you were here, a white knight to rescue me from the monotony of my existence. To free me from the torment of capture. Darren will keep me from you. He already is. I don’t know how to stop him.

Even now I hardly risk writing to you, afraid he will find the letters and separate us. He is a dangerous man. I know this and yet I don’t think he will hurt me. I’ve been by his side for three years. If he wanted to harm me I would have seen it before now.

Do not worry. I will meet you at our scheduled time. To answer your last letter, do I truly love you? The answer to that is simple, Alec. I love you with every breath in my body. I have since that night so long ago. If it were not true, I never would have accepted your necklace.

Think of me. Look up at the stars and make a wish. Watch the moon and know, wherever I am, I am watching it and thinking of you.

With love,

Lizzie

The letter was so crumpled the letters on some of the words were faded from the pencil she used to write him. Alec folded it carefully and put it back inside his coat, close to his left breast, as close to his heart as he could keep her.

The wind blew him steadily along the path toward the mess hall. He hardly had the appetite to eat but he entered anyway, scooping food onto his tray with mechanical methodology and sitting with his fellow officers. He was quiet. Subdued. His thoughts were lingering on Lizzie. On the woman he loved.

“Hey, Sheridan, what’s with you mate?” One of the officers asked, nudging him with an elbow.

“I miss my fiancé,” he replied, pushing the half eaten tray aside.

“Ah, a woman. The only reason any of us gets this quiet, eh?”

Alec smiled. “True.”

“What are you waiting for man? Marry the girl and ask for relocation. Wright Pat needs more men. Ask, they will surely grant you leave.”

Marry her? And relocate? Why hadn’t he thought of that sooner? It solved all of their problems. He could be with Lizzie and secure his position with the militia while keeping her safe.

“Damn, that’s a near perfect idea. I’m glad I thought of it.” He clapped the fellow on the back and grinned.

“Sheridan, you’re lucky I like you man.”

Alec grinned, laughing with the rest of the men. Nothing would snatch his good humor away. He was going to sweep Lizzie right off her feet and whisk her away, charging in on his horse, far from the refugees and Darren, and far away from harm. He stood moments later, the plan forming in his head. Perhaps he was her white knight after all.

Pain. Unending searing, hot, boiling, tingling, burning pain. It traveled along my back, jumping all around like a live wire, as if my body was an electric current, and the waves danced on my skin, causing havoc and shards of stinging anguish to jump from cell to cell, piercing the delicate skin and flayed flesh.

I was unsure what hurt worse, the pain on my back, the throbbing ache of my wrist, or the pounding ache of my head, settling between my eyes, making it impossible to blink or open them. I moaned with agony, my body trembling, unable to handle such a large amount of suffering. I could not stay conscious and drifted into empty oblivion.

Hovering on the edge of consciousness, I lingered in the dream world, uncertain of the day or hour, unsure of the time that was passing. Days? Weeks? Nothing made sense. I had no knowledge of light or darkness, of morning or night. I simply existed, between the two, as if in some trance, a horrible twisted alternate reality, that neither beckoned me nor pushed me away.

Had I been conscious, or even lucid, I may have questioned my circumstance, insisted on coherency. But I did not. I wavered, riding a current of rare anonymity, letting my soul wander where it may. Untouched. Weightless. Free.

Eventually I returned to reality. I felt the heaviness of something coarse on my wrist keeping it immobile. With apprehension I moved my fingers, wincing at the pain it caused. My head still ached. A consistent throbbing between my eyes, located just above the sockets, confirmed my suspicion that I had smacked my head, hard.

I might have lingered somewhere in my subconscious but with the return to clarity, almost in disbelief, I had the sudden realization of excruciating and mind searing pain, resonating in my core, pulsating on my back, causing my heart to begin a frantic race in my veins.

“Lizzie, oh God, Lizzie.”

Light. It filtered through my eyelids, every detail vivid, every tiny vein, blue and red, prominent in my vision. The brightness just beyond only held more pain. I moaned.

“Lizzie?”

I forced my eyes to open. Bright light shocked my sensitive mind, already overcome with the agony and constant barrage of pain, and I blinked against the day that wanted to force me into unconsciousness again.

“Mal?” I croaked hoarsely. My throat was dry and parched.

“Lizzie, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He repeated over and over.

I was lying on my stomach, propped up on pillows, my left arm in a brace. I felt something cool on my back, reducing the burning flames of the fire, if only a little. At least I could take a breath without searing agony.

“Mal, what…” My head was foggy.

“Oh sweetheart, you have been unconscious for a week,” he blurted, half crying and half shaking his head in relief.

I mumbled some half-hearted joke with a partial laugh and winced. Even that small movement was excruciating. “It’s not your fault.”

“I couldn’t save you!” He jumped up and began to pace. “I couldn’t save you from that monster.”

“Mal, it was my fault. I should never-”

“Don’t you dare say it was your fault or you deserved it. Who beats an innocent girl like that!?” Mal was angry. His long strides paced the small hospital room in seconds before he had to spin and pace the other direction. He seemed oblivious to the small space but it made him look like a caged animal. Raw. Carnal. Wild.

“I agree,” I whispered, “only I can’t quite move to pace with you right now.”

He glanced at me, a brief flash of a smile, before the frown returned. It was then that I noticed he was holding his side as he walked and his face had bruises.

“Were you hurt?” I asked, afraid of the answer.

“I suppose you were unable to see, being beat to death and all,” he fumed, his anger seething, renewing with every step. “Yes, he had his guards beat and restrain me for trying to break free and rescue you. He only let me go once he was finished, with his little smirk riding his face. He enjoyed it Lizzie. He enjoyed every second of hurting you and teaching you a lesson.” His tone was furious, more disgusted than I had ever heard it.

“Then let him gloat. I don’t care. I won’t stay once I am well. I’ll never stand by his side again,” I declared vehemently, “not as long as I live.”

“We could go anywhere Lizzie, anywhere you want. You say when and we will go,” he promised.

My eyelids were fluttering, waves of fatigue flashing through me. He noticed and sat beside me on the bed. My stamina was nothing. I could barely stay awake long enough to have a conversation.

“Sleep Lizzie, I won’t leave your side,” he promised.

I let the night swallow me, floating away on the wave of morphine, thanks to the drip from the nurse, and closed my eyes, Mal’s hand clenching mine.

Awakening the next day, I was frightened of my eventual confrontation with Darren. Terrified of his very presence. I had nightmares in the sick ward. Mal reached for me more than once and held my hand. If not for him, I might have stopped fighting the pain. The whole experience was so awful, so altering, all I felt was defeat, anger, and pain.

And so it was, two weeks to the day after that terrible flogging, Darren came strolling into my room.

“How are you Lizzie? Recovering?”

He sat down in a chair next to my bed.

“I’m getting better every day. It’s slow progress,” I told him through clenched teeth.

Was he even sorry? Did he regret hurting me at all?

His eyes finally met mine. I stared at him, all the hatred and anger I felt held in that one gaze. He looked startled.

“You can’t challenge my authority again in front of another soldier. I welcome your council but make sure it is when we are alone. I am the leader. I call the shots. Morale needs to see this chain of events, I can’t be doubted and challenged again. Do you understand?” He asked, his voice hard and cold. I guess he felt the need to defend his actions.

At last I understood. Darren had made an example out of me. One everyone in the whole camp would fathom without a single doubt. He was to lead with fear and intimidation now.

“I understand. Maybe you could refrain from making threats so obviously in front of other soldiers, or perhaps withhold from beating me in public. Do you have to treat me with so little respect?”

“I don’t feel that I did.” He leaned closer. “I’m the leader.” Was this some kind of power trip?

“Did you really need to beat and flog me to make your precious point?” I screeched. The monitor on my bed started going off. My blood pressure was rising.

“You know I could not let it go. How would it look?” He asked, daring me to argue.

“Like you were merciful,” I snapped.

“I came here this morning to say I’m sorry and to remind you that I love you. I would do anything for you Lizzie. Truly I would.” He leaned forward, trying to take my hand but I shrank away from him. “Even if that means saving you from yourself.”

What the hell was that supposed to mean? His apology meant nothing to me. He had whipped me, slashed my back as if I was no one to him, and then waltzed in here with a half- hearted apology, saying he actually loved me and blaming it all on me. Before I could say much in response he left, promising to return and check on me later.

Mal came back from the mess and sat next to me. He saw my tears and immediately hugged me close, his eyes sad and concerned. The bed dipped slightly with his weight next to mine. Gently he brushed the hair out of my eyes, tucking a stray strand behind my ear.

“You ok sweetie?” He asked gently.

I shook my head. “I hate him.”

Several more tears fell from my cheeks. He opened his mouth to speak but I put my finger to his lips. I shook my head no. The worry in his eyes left my chest feeling hollow. He held me close, avoiding my back, but lighting rubbing my arm, trying some form of touch to soothe me.

“Did Darren apologize to you?” He finally asked.

I nodded. “Yes and no, he had the nerve to say it was all my fault and he still loves me. Pompous ass!” I didn’t expect Mal’s reaction. He turned furious and almost walked from the room. I had to throw my arms around him to stop him.

“Now isn’t the time Mal,” I pleaded.

“When is a good time Lizzie? How dare he hurt you, mock you, make you feel this is all your fault.”

“Mal,” I begged, “please. I care nothing for him. Not his lies, his thoughtless actions, or his apology.”

Mal nodded, brushing his lips against my forehead. “I’ll be watching out for you Lizzie. Someday he is going to pay for what he did to you and I hope I’m there.” He leaned back as his eyes locked with mine. “Please be careful. He’ll return and I don’t want to see you hurt again.”

“I will. Thank you but I don’t need the warning.”

Long after he left, I continued to watch the door, empty and hollow, waiting for some kind of feeling to emerge, and thankful when it did not. I felt nothing. Not for Mal. Not for Alec. Only blind, raging, hate and anger for Darren. So much so that I paced the room, as caged as Mal had been a week ago. If he walked through that door right now, I might possibly kill him.

Luckily he did not.

Darren did return to the infirmary later that afternoon, despite my hope he would stay away. He instantly launched into a pathetic attempt to appeal to my emotions and manipulate me which did nothing but piss me off even more.

“Lizzie, please forgive me. I’m so terribly sorry.” I stared at him in disbelief. “I was so caught up in the moment and so angry at you for leaving. Do you have any idea how badly I feel? I hurt you and it makes me sick to my stomach. I feel almost ill.”