Dunno how good this is, but oh well, I'm only writing the first draft of this story... so whatever.
Chapter Four
Nicole awoke to a rustling sound to her left side. She looked and saw a small boy slithering towards her in the grass. In his hand he held a sharp, rusty dagger.
She got up and stood her ground.
“Who are…” but before she could finish, strong arms wrapped around her and something hit her on the head.
Before she passed out she heard a dirty, evil cackle.
* * *
When Nicole regained consciousness, she realized she was riding in the back of a creaky old cart.
The little boy with the dagger was sitting next to her and watching her curiously. She reached up to rub the bump on her head, but found she couldn’t because her hands were tied. So were her feet.
“You isn’t goan anywheres, lil missus,” he laughed.
“Where am I?” she asked, bewildered.
“Why, good ol’ Delaine, missus,” he replied. “Right now you in my papa’s Caravan, though.”
“Caravan?” she asked.
“We goan sell you for money, it’s what we do,” he answered.
“And to who do you think you’re going to sell me to?” she yelled at him.
He spat in her face. “You doan talk to yo master like that,” he scowled, and then ended with a slap across her face.
“Master?” she nearly screamed. “I will have no master!”
“Believe it or not, ma’am, you already do,” someone else beside her said. She looked out to see a man walking beside the cart she was riding in with the boy.
“I see you have regained consciousness. Now you will walk along side the carts with the other slaves,” he said. “How is that bump on your head?” he inquired, giving her head a hearty thump. She winced, that hurt.
The man motioned for the man driving the cart to stop. He took Nicole out and dropped her on the ground, face down. He bent over and she could smell the foul stench of his breath.
“Now walk,” he laughed, and kicked her in the side.
“I would,” she said, gritting her teeth against the pain, “but my feet are tied together.”
“Well, we’ll have to see about that,” he said, taking the dagger from the boy’s hand and cutting the rope off. Her leg got nicked a little and she let out a whimper.
She stood up and spat in his face. “Let me go this instant!” she screamed.
He slapped her across the face and laughed, wiping the spit off his cheek.
“I will do no such thing.”
He gave her a shove and the cart started to move again. She walked along side it.
“I’ll call the authorities on you. They won’t have this!” she yelled at him, he was now walking in front of her.
“Authorities?” he laughed, turning around. “Delaine has no authorities. It’s a dog eat dog world out here.”
“Don’t give me that crap!” she yelled.
“Crap?” he cackled. “That’s a funny word, where’d you learn that, missus?”
“It’s an every day word where I come from,” she mumbled. Where the heck was she?
“And where would that be?” he asked.
“Seattle. Seattle, Washington.”
“Never heard of that place before,” he said. “Are you pulling my leg?”
“You’re worse than my older brother, Jeff,” she told him. “Don’t worry; you’ll get in trouble for this. Lot’s of trouble. I have a good lawyer.” She warned.
“Lawyers, bah!” he shouted and went into another fit of rusty cackles.
* * *
Nicole watched as a man in an apron dropped unidentifiable mush into a little wooden bowl that sat in front of her.
“Eat up,” he laughed and then moved on to the person next to her.
She took one look at the mush and lost her appetite. She shoved it away with one hand. They had untied their hands and switched the rope to their feet for meal time.
“I’d eat that, if I was you,” the man next to her said. He looked about twenty and would have been handsome, if not for all the dirt on his face. “You’ll need the energy for tomorrow.”
“Like I’m eating that,” she grimaced.
She remembered her cell phone was in her pocket and pulled it out. She flipped it open. No Service.
“Ah come on!” she cried angrily. “I need to get a hold of someone!”
“What is that?” the man asked.
“It’s a cell phone. Where am I anyway?” she asked.
Completely ignoring her question, the man reached for the cell phone, but Nicole held it away from him. “I’ve never seen that type of material before, is it wood?”
“No it’s not wood, it’s plastic.”
“Plastic,” the man repeated. “Plastic.”
“You people are dirty and weird,” she said.
“You dress funny,” the man said, touching the triangle and rainbow on her shirt, he read the words underneath. “Dark Side of the Moon.”
“I dress funny? Everyone here dresses like we’re in the freaking 1600’s!” she said, slamming her fist on the ground.
“It’s actually 1546,” the man replied, studying her jeans now.
“Oh my gosh, 1546?” she whispered. “No, no, no.” Where had that book taken her? She shoved the cell phone back in her pocket and folded her arms. She wished she had her jacket.
The man with the apron came back down the row, taking everyone’s bowls away.
The ropes were tied back around their wrists and each of them was given a thin, moth eaten blanket.
“Now sleep!” the man passing out the blankets commanded.
Nicole, thankful for the chance to lie down, obeyed and closed her eyes.
Once the caravan had settled down and the masters and slaves were in their separate sleeping quarters, Nicole heard the man that was sitting next to her at dinner whisper.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Nicole, what’s yours?” she asked, turning to face him.
“Thomas,” he replied.
“Sorry I was mean, Thomas,” she apologized. “I’m in a really weird place and I’m a little scared.”
“It’s ok, I was the same when they first got me,” he said.
“How long have you been here?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Maybe a month. I was on my way to see my mother. One night while I was sleeping in the little camp I made on the side of the road, they got me. I just thank God that I’m still alive,” he said.
“Where are they taking us?” she asked.
“We’ve been several places already; no one has bought me yet. The next town is about a half a day away.” He told her.
“So why not just escape?” she asked.
“They would find us,” he answered.
“Just watch this, follow me,” she said getting up.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Follow me if you want to be free, Thomas,” she whispered. He got up too.
“They’ll catch us, I hope you know,” he whispered.
“Then why are you following me?” she asked.
“You’re very pretty,” he said. Jimmy, with his bright red cheeks, flashed in her mind and she could have almost cried.
“That’s why, huh?” she asked.
“Maybe we’ll escape,” he shrugged.
She laughed. They heard talking.
“This way!” she mouthed.
He nodded and followed. Nicole stepped on something and it grunted.
“Oh, now we’re caught!” Thomas cried. Nicole kicked him in the leg.
“Shut up and just follow!” she whispered. She started running away from the caravan. She heard Thomas follow behind her. The camp was starting to wake up and she heard an angry cry.
She looked over her shoulder and saw torches coming their way.
“We’ll never make it, oh no, we’ll never make it!” Thomas cried.
“Shut up and keep running!” she yelled at him.
They ran for about twenty minutes until they came to a little clearing with a pond and a few shrubs.
“Get down in one of these and don’t talk,” she said, burying herself in a shrub.
He followed her example. “Where’d you learn how to do that?” he asked, amazed.
“I never learned, I just saw it in a movie once,” she whispered. “Now shut up!”
“A movie?” he asked.
“Listen, dude, if you want to keep hidden shut your big fat mouth!” she whispered fiercely.
He didn’t say anything more.
* * *
They stayed hidden in the shrubs until morning. Neither one slept. When morning came, Nicole poked her head out of the bush she was in and saw the huge caravan in the distance. It was moving along. She laughed.
“They probably looked in the total wrong direction!” she laughed. “Idiots.”
“You use very funny words,” Thomas said, getting out of his bush. Nicole got out of hers too.
She shook her head. “They’re leaving, see?” she said, pointing at the caravan.
“You’re very smart,” Thomas said, and then yawned.
“Let’s get these ropes off and then sleep before we decide what to do next,” Nicole said, looking around for something sharp.
A rock jutted out of the ground and had a fairly large point at the top. She rubbed the rope against it until the strings started to fray. Five minutes later the rope fell off and she rubbed her wrists.
“Dang,” she muttered. They were sore. “Now get yours off, I’m going to sleep,” she said, lying down on the cold ground. She curled up and despite the cold, she fell asleep.
