Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 83933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Was I really?
Hopelessness bombarded me. I’d once considered Jasher merciless, but no longer. My captors were ten thousand times worse. They sat proud on those beautiful, multicolored ponies, thrilling over the bruised, battered condition of their meals. Obviously, they preferred their steaks tenderized.
The scent of roasting meat reached my nostrils. At first, I savored the pleasant odor, my mouth watering. Then I spotted what, exactly, I inhaled. Roasting humans. Their severed limbs and torsos hung over open firepits, turning and charring on spits. Severed heads topped short, spinning poles, allowing sitting villagers to scoop out the brains lazy Susan style. Fresher bodies were stretched out over wooden tables, their organs being fished out. The butchering station.
Bile singed my throat. I hunched over and vomited. The trappers continued onward, unconcerned. My length of chain pulled taut, yanking me to my knees, then my face, dragging me through the mess.
Tapping into a deep reservoir of strength I hadn’t known I possessed, I lumbered to my feet. Guess the curse of a violent death was true.
“Let me go!” the robust man next to me screamed. He jerked at his bounds, but he was no match for his handler. With a hard pull, the trapper ensured he fell and ate a mouthful of dirt.
My chest squeezed. I couldn’t help him. I couldn’t even help myself.
Nearby, a handful of pups played with children who kicked a flesh-colored ball around, unaffected by the sight of the prisoners.
Soon, we reached our destination. The riders stopped and dismounted near a makeshift corral. A group of teens rushed over to take possession of the mares. The trappers didn’t trust the new meat-on-feet with anyone else, however. Three of them strode over to claim a captive for further transport.
“You’re with me, girlie,” Tommy said, grinning. “The tastiest snacks go in here.” With the end of my chain locked in his grip, he led me toward a mud hut with two guards posted at the entrance. His keys jingled from the hook at his waist. The other trappers took the men in the opposite direction, to an open tent with at least twenty others restrained by ground stakes. Awaiting selection?
Perspiration dampened my palms. “I don’t want to eat you, but I wouldn’t mind spilling your guts,” I snarled at my captor.
He laughed outright. “Many have tried, none have succeeded.”
Did he take me straight to the butcher or did he hope to make use of me first?
I dug in my heels, resisting forward momentum. He pulled me through the door without much effort on his part. My new surroundings gave me pause. A fire crackled inside a pit, smoke curling up, up to escape through a hole in the roof. Thankfully, no one roasted in the flames and there wasn’t a ready spit.
Despite multiple beds with wooden frames and hay-filled mattresses, this wasn’t a love shack, as I’d feared. Only one other prisoner was present. An older man laid upon a bed, wearing a loin cloth. He wasn’t chained. But then, both of his legs and an arm had been amputated. He watched me with sad, sunken eyes, his skin sallow and bruised.
Horror stole my breath and clogged my throat. This was the fate in store for me? Eaten piece by piece?
My struggles started up again.
“You must be cleaned and seasoned. But first, utensils must be prepared,” Tommy said, hauling me onto the bed next to the old man. After removing my shackles, he hooked the cuffs together, then snapped the metal around my neck and hooked the end of the chain to a stake hidden beneath a pile of blankets. I had enough slack to sit up but little else. “Carmine!”
A weathered woman with frizzy salt and pepper hair raced in with a canteen she placed beside me. Then off she went, exiting the hut as quickly as she’d entered.
“It’s not drugged. We wouldn’t poison ourselves in such a way. It’s milk. Drink it or not. Strengthen or not. It’s up to you.” All said with his smirking grin. Because he knew I would drink it. Anything to build up my strength.
He reached out as if to pinch my chin.
On instinct, I kicked him in the chest. “Don’t touch me.”
Scowling now, he caught my ankle and held on tight in a punishing grip. His eyes glittered. “I’ll let you watch when I take my first sampling of you. I think I’ll start right here.” He tapped the center of my calf.
“The only thing you’re going to eat is crow,” I snarled at him.
He laughed as he released me. Saying nothing else, he strode out with those stupid jingling keys. Suddenly I was (semi) alone with the old man. I highly doubted the guards posted just outside the door had wandered off.
The choir babes, Patch and even Jasher had tried to tell me I’d be better off with the Wests. I should have listened. But how could I have guessed I would ever come to miss the land of crimen, substitutes, and storms?