“Sumbitch,” Toby mumbled as she slowly drove off into the darkness. “Owen will have my heart for lunch tomarra, yes he will…” Then he thought, isn’t that what she said. Oh, sumbitch, she can read minds…
She leaned against him and whispered into his ear, “Mmmm. Maybe he’ll share your heart with me…”
Sumfuckingbitch…
Behind her was the only sanctuary that she had. Behind her was the only family she had. With her, she had a deranged man who would take her to Owen. Certainly, he was no bargaining chip, but superstitious enough to resurrect Owen’s fears from his childhood. Might even be a shield for a couple of minutes. Either way, he was worth bringing with her.
Owen’s id, and a picture of Owen’s dead body, would bring her two hundred and fifty thousand US credits. Credits accepted in all the underground cities throughout the US and would later be accepted in the newly developed US in all states. Money that very few people had.
Alive, Owen was worth zero.
Within five minutes, a new tornado, like a mortician carrying away a body, dropped down and carried away all traces of Jasmine’s tracks as if she had never stood in the grip of Death atop the Nine of Swords.
Chapter 8
Through her night-scope binoculars and from a mile out, Jasmine saw the faint glow of campfires. A half a mile out, and with calm winds, she could see the silhouette of shanties, lean-to’s, a few buildings and what looked to be burned out cars and trucks. A quarter of a mile out she stopped the Harley, dropped the kickstand, and then dropped Toby. He fell with a hard thud and exhaled when the impact knocked the wind out of him.
She knelt down. “Make a sound Toby and the second sound you hear will be a bullet,” Jasmine whispered. Toby nodded, then slurped, but said nothing. “How many people are here?” Toby didn’t answer. “Toby, I’m really trying to be nice here. How many?”
“Fif-fifteen men—” He slurped. “Fi-five women. No kids.” He slurped.
“You really need to take care of that slurping problem, Toby. That can’t be healthy.”
“Yes’m,” Toby answered, then slurped. “As— As soon as I can.”
Jasmine removed her binoculars from her backpack and looked at the small, whatever it was—town, village, camp; it was hard to say—looking for guards. She couldn’t see anyone. Although there were small campfires, she didn’t see any people.
“They underground?”
“No. They’s be asleep,” Toby answered sheepishly.
“Toooby,” Jasmine said, dragging out his name as if talking to a child. “You know gypsies have foresight, right? We can predict the future, and we can tell when people are lying. You know that, right?”
“Yes’m,” Toby answered while thinking, sumfuckingbitchen, gypsies. Owen is gonna have my heart for breakfast tomarra…
Jasmine slowly turned, taking a few minutes to look around, looking for anything or anyone. Other than a light wind, sand, and dirt, there was no other movement. She turned back to the town and finally saw a guard. He had been sitting on the other side of the campfire. The glow from the fire blocked him from her vision. He stood and limped over to an old vehicle—she couldn’t tell the make or model—and unzipped and relieved himself. His back arched and he looked up to a dull brown-gray sky. He was dressed in the same old military clothing.
“You guys ex-military?” Jasmine asked.
“No ma’am, we’un’s got our clothes from the police when they’s tried to take us over—” he chuckled. “They’s tried a’fore, and they’ll keep trying but they’s cain’t beat us.”
Jasmine asked, “Why is that, Toby?”
“Cause you’s cain’t beat the ele’mints. Too harsh. And the people they send out here never trained in anything like this.”
Jasmine didn’t respond—he was right—and she looked back at the camp, and that was when she saw another guard walking out from behind one of the lean-to’s. He was dragging a little girl, who, from this distance, looked to be about ten years old.
Jasmine spun around and kicked Toby in the face. He slammed down hard, and when he tried to get up, Jasmine ran a knife across his neck, drawing blood. “You lied to me, asshole. Lie to me again and it’ll be the last words you’ll ever hear.”
Blood seeped between filthy gloved fingers, and dripped from a broken nose. He groaned between slurps, but didn’t say anything. Then he looked into her eyes, which was something he had never done, she’d always worn her goggles, and she scared him more than Owen ever had. “Th-there’s always four g-guards at all times…” Jasmine put the knife to his throat again. “They’s all carry’n pistols. L-loaded. No rifles or anything like that… we’re, we’re just one of Owen’s outskirts to slow people down. Other than for food, he don’t really care if we live or die…”
“And you protect him.”
“Yes’m,” Toby answered with a nod. “His army is bu-big, and they’d kilt us and have us up on a sp-spit a’fore we knows what happened.”
Jasmine pulled him to his feet and turned him to the little girl. “You said no kids.”
“She be-belongs to a family that come out the same door a’fore you. People always come out that door. We always catch’em—” He laughed. “Like bugs to li-lights, ya know. They’s come out those doors and we catch’em.” He looked at Jasmine and hesitated. “But you stayed in the dark… I shud’a let you go. I knows you were special. I shud’a let you go.”
Jasmine snickered, she really wanted to cut his throat and leave him here and it took all the will she had not to kill him. “What happens to them?”
“We gives half to Owen.” He slurped. “He, he says the younger the better… I ain’t never et no young girl…” Then more in a mumble he finished, “Wa-wanted too, but never et one.”
She pushed him toward the Harley. “Climb up there nice and easy, Toby, I really don’t want to kill you, but I will.” He did, and immediately laid his head on the gas tank. “Where are the men, Toby?”
“B-building on the left. W-women on the right. We’s keep’em pregnant for Owen…” Toby said, slurping more, as his stuttering got worst. “We-we’s always hope fer twins… but…”
Jasmine was stunned. The women were the cattle who would produce as many babies as they could to feed Owen or to expand the tribe.
“What’s next for the family?”
“We’ll keep the woman for breed’n. Kilt the husben fer food—he ain’t one of us—and send the b-boy and girl onto Owen.”
She thought about it for a moment. She really didn’t want to stop at any of the camps. She wanted to go straight to Owen’s camp, but she couldn’t leave these people here. She couldn’t let these guys kill them. She wasn’t too sure if it was too late for the women but it wasn’t too late for the family. Then she remembered Dooriya’s card reading; you’ll need that family later. Understand? They’re a key to this whole thing… I don’t know why but it’s important. It was then the reality of what she was doing settled in. The cards said she’d stumble onto a family and that she should help them. The cards also said she was going to die.
She stared at the back of Toby’s head and saw him taking three or four shots into his chest before the Harley crashed. He was driving. He was her shield. The Harley would explode. She wanted to stop that from happening but a shield was a shield, but on the other hand she wanted the Harley.
“Tell me, Toby,” Jasmine said, gritting her teeth and holding back the urge to drop him here. “How long before everything happens? How long before you kill the husband and send the kids off?”