Pahnyakin Rising (7 page)

“What are you doing?” Dresden asked.  She hobbled to the barred cell door and wrapped her sweaty palms around the iron.  Furiously, she attempted to shake the bars.  “Why are you doing this to me?”

Lyle approached Shepherd with a suave stride. 

Nick nodded in Dresden’s direction.  “Get some clothes down here.  I want her ready for Trial in fifteen minutes.”

The two left the holding room and Dresden was alone with her thoughts.  What made others dislike her and treat her poorly: her will to succeed and know it all as soon as she could, without a skip in time, was what landed her in the mess she was in.  She could not understand anything that was occurring and racked her brain for every possible answer to every question in her mind.  Dodge never had a beard before; Dresden had seen him with wiry scruff a few times, but his parents usually forbade the teen to go without shaving.  It was not
possible
for the 17-year-old to produce full facial hair in a matter of hours, to have tired eyes and crinkles around his full lips.  And for Easton to-obviously-be in such a crisis that one of her classmates was hailed as a leader was incomprehensible. 

Tim’s words repeated in Dresden’s mind.  “You don’t get to act like you don’t know who she is.  You killed my wife.”

Dresden would never hurt anyone, and she didn’t even
know
a woman named Lynette.    

‘What happened when that Gaia exploded?’
she wondered. 

“Dodge,” she shouted.  “Help me.”

She stood with her bodice pressed against the bars of the cell and continued to scream.

“Dodge, please help me.  Please.  If you can hear me, please help me.  I don’t know why I’m here.  Can anyone hear me?  I don’t know why I’m here.  Help me, please.”

Her throat was rubbed raw with every plea she cast. 

-9-

     Minni was tall-at least six feet-and carried extra weight at her hips and on her jiggly thighs.  Her breasts were small lumps under a thin teal sweater that brought out the color of her hazel eyes.  Her hair was curled and hung loosely past her shoulders.  She carried a pile of clothes that were neatly folded in squares with a pair of black combat boots resting on the top of the stack.

“They’re saying you don’t remember anything, but nobody really believes it,” accusingly said the woman.  Her appearance suggested she was in her mid-twenties, but Dresden would have never guessed that judging solely on her high-set voice.  The teen wondered if that was the woman’s real name.  “But if it’s true, there’s one thing you
need
to remember: Lyle and Brent are going to be in this room the entire time.  And if you do anything stupid, they have this room guarded with at least ten people.  I know you could kill the three of us in just a minute, but you won’t get out of here alive if you do.”

“What?” Dresden asked with a laugh.  It was far from the perfect time to find anything about the situation humorous, but she could not hide her amusement.  “That’s a joke, right?”

“Don’t try anything,” Minni warned.  Her voice was shaky.  It was clear that this was her only chance to ever speak these words.  “I don’t want them to have to explain anything to my son.”

The woman looked fearful as she neared the cell door.  Dresden noticed the woman’s hands were shaking. 

“I’ve never hurt anyone,” she told Minni.  “And I won’t hurt you.  I don’t even think I could; you’re so much bigger than I am.  Look, I just want to go home.  Can you help me get out of here so I can go home?”

Minni nodded back to Lyle.  “You can open it.”

Lyle approached the cell and fumbled with a set of keys he pulled from the pocket of his cargo khakis.  He inserted a long, thick key in the key slot and twisted until the door popped open with a thud.  Minni cautiously entered the cell and walked to the left of Dresden.  She jumped when the door clanked closed behind her.

“I won’t hurt you,” Dresden repeated.  “I don’t know why you’re doing this to me.”

“Everyone thinks you’re here to kill us all.  It’s the only theory that makes sense.  It’d be the perfect way for them to win.  Are you here to kill us?”

“Kill you?  Why does everyone keep saying that?  I’ve never killed anyone in my life.  I need to talk to Dodge.  Can you get him for me?”

Minni shook her head.  Her chubby cheeks were pale and Dresden could see the fear in her eyes.  “I can’t do that.  I’m only here to get your ready for the Trial.”

“What trial?  I didn’t do anything wrong.  What am I on trial for?  Do I get a lawyer?”

Minni shot Dresden a look of confusion.  “A lawyer?  You don’t remember the Trial?”

“That’s what I’m telling you.  I don’t know what’s going on.  Why won’t anyone tell me why I’m here?”

She took a step in Minni’s direction and the woman hopped back.  “Please don’t hurt me.  I’ve had another baby since you’ve been gone.  She’s twelve weeks old.  I can’t leave my kids without a mother.”

“Gone?”  The volume of Dresden’s voice rose and she grew irate.  “I’ve never been here.  I don’t even know where we are.”

“And why are you so afraid of me?” she demanded.  “You’re all treating me like I’m some sort of killing machine.”

The girl dipped her head and her auburn hair wrapped around the curves of her face.  She was almost too nervous to ask, “Aren’t you, though?”

Dresden shook her head and exclaimed in an exasperated voice, “No.”

“Look,” said Minni, extending her arms.  “I’m just here to give you something to wear.  Dodge said all of this will fit.”

“You talked to Dodge?”

She nodded.  “He gave me these clothes from a box of your stuff.”

“A box of my stuff?  But I’ve never seen any of this before.”

Minni shrugged.

“What else did he say?  Did he tell you to tell me anything?”

“No,” her voice quivered.

Realizing Minni’s trepidation was sincere, the teenager stepped backward and eased her body to the ground.  She leaned over her drawn legs and gently pressed at the knot that was her ankle.  Tears formed in her eyes but she was so exhausted and confused that they stayed at bay. 

“You know, Dodge told me I should’ve waited,” she said, raising her head.  “But I couldn’t wait.  I was just so excited.”

“When you took those people scouting?”

“What are you talking about?” the teenager snapped.

“Nothing,” said the girl.  She dropped to a squat and placed the pile of clothes on the floor.  “Put these on.  They’re going to bring you outside after you get dressed.”

“Do you think they’ll let me go after my trial?” Dresden asked softly.  “I want to go home.  My mom and dad are going to find out I’m gone and come looking for me.”

Minni offered a sad smile and walked away in silence.  Dresden leaned forward and lifted the untied leather boots in the air to examine them.  She placed them on the floor to her right and continued to pick through the pile.  The black tank top, she thought, would fit her, but the long-sleeved red and black flannel button-up shirt was a little too big and hung loosely around her arms.  She inspected a pair of tight wide-leg jeans that had holes shredded up and down the fronts of both legs.  Her socks were mismatched; one was thick and black, while the other was yellow and thin.  At least the undergarments matched and were in fair condition, but she felt skeezy wearing someone else’s bra and underwear. 

“Stop stalling and get dressed,” Brent ordered.  He approached the open cell with his hand on the brown butt of a pistol that was sticking out of a leather pouch attached to his belt loop.  “Shepherd will make you pay if you make him come down to get you.”

“I can’t change if you’re watching me.”

Lyle laughed.  “We’re not leaving.  Nice try.”

“This isn’t fair.  What could I do to you if I’m getting dressed?  Close the door, I don’t care.”

Brent looked to Lyle for approval and Lyle nodded.  He motioned Brent to pull the door shut and it clanked closed.  Dresden placed her hands on the bottom of her pink tank top and glanced to her right.  Brent was smiling in anticipation.  Lyle, she thought, looked nervous.  She twisted her buttocks on the floor until her back was turned to them, and she removed her shirt so she could put on the black bra and black tank top.

“Wanna make a bet?” she heard Lyle ask Brent.  “I think she’s lying.”

“I don’t know,” Brent replied in a low whisper.  “She could’ve made a move by now.”

“If she’s not lying, I’ll cover you on the next run.  There’s no way she’s going to be able to get away from it.  It’s killed three of us already.”

Dresden shivered.  Whatever they were talking about did not sound pleasant.  She began to realize her trial was something much more than a judge and jury.

The girl could not find an alternative to showing the men either her bare front side or bare backside, so she chose the latter and did so with lightning speed.  As her rear end flashed and cold air touched her prickly skin, one of the men behind her whistled.  She rolled her eyes and almost fell to her face as she tried to pull her pants on one leg at a time.  Her swollen ankle made it difficult to get dressed and her thoughts traveled to the shin-high boots she was expected to wear.

She motioned to the socks and shoes as she turned back towards Brent and Lyle.  “How am I supposed to wear these with my ankle the way it is?  I need a doctor.”

Brent scoffed.  “It’s just a sprain.  Nothing you haven’t had before.  Just put ‘em on and lace ‘em up real tight and shut up so we can go.”

The girl offered them a pouty stare.  She refused to waste any more time arguing what anyone was saying what
had
happened to her.  She knew for a fact she’d never sprained her ankle before.  Something wasn’t right.  Dresden briefly thought of a theory, but she could not entertain the silly idea.  Instead, she huffed and dropped her bottom to the floor.  She pulled on the mismatched socks and put on the left boot with no problem.  It was snug against her size seven foot.  With both hands, she tugged on the long laces until the top of the boot enclosed her lower leg.  She did the same with the right foot, but loudly sucked in cold air through her front teeth the entire time.  Her ankle throbbed.

When she stood again, the hem of the unbuttoned flannel shirt reached the edge of her hips.  Surprisingly, the clothes were comfortable and hugged the curves of her body like they had already been broken in.  She ran her fingers through her hair and touched the pad of her index finger to the indents under her eyes, wiping excess streaked eyeliner on her jeans afterward. Dresden nervously picked at the white strands that stretched across a tear the size of her palm like she was plucking strings on an old guitar.

“Go to the back wall and stand with your hands up in the air,” Lyle directed.   He drew a black pistol by its brown leather-wrapped handle and aimed it in her direction.

“Holy crap,” she exclaimed.  “Why are you pointing a gun at me?  Are you crazy?”

“Stand against the back wall and put your hands up.”

“Okay,” she replied.  “Okay, I’m doing it.  Look.”  She walked backwards with a wince until her back hit the cold flat wall.  Her hands were stretched to the sky.  “I’m doing it.  Stop aiming at me.”

The man nodded to Brent.  “Open the cage.”

Brent approached the cell and opened the door.  He placed the keys to the cell in his pocket and drew his own pistol. 

Lyle wriggled the fingers on his left hand.  “Walk this way, slowly.”  He looked towards the staircase and shouted.  “Need a few guards down here.  We’re coming up.”

Dresden’s eyes bulged at how quickly the mood had changed.  The situation had escalated from tense questioning to five more men with pistols and shotguns leading her out of the stairwell.  Her arms ached from extending them far above her head.  A man in full riot gear walked backwards and in front of her.  He pointed a double barrel shotgun at her forehead and his finger hovered above a copper trigger.  His hands seemed unsteady and hesitant.  Dresden worried that the man would trip as he went up the stairs without looking and his finger would slip on the trigger.  A bead of sweat rolled from her hairline and down her forehead.  It made her skin crawl as it glided down her face and dripped off her chin.

The man in front of her used the heel of his boot to kick the bottom of a rusted metal door with a thud.  It opened with a creak that hurt Dresden’s ears, but she knew she would be kibble if she made a move. 

With the first ray of bright sunlight beaming on her pasty face, she clenched her eyes shut and turned her head downward and to her right side.  How long had she been in that cell?

Temporarily blinded, she could not make out her surroundings, but on both sides she could hear the roar of an angry crowd.  Some cheered death threats and others booed her presence. 

“Kill her before she has a chance to kill us,” she heard a woman scream.

A man agreed.  “Yeah.  Why did you even let her back here?  Shoot her. 
Shoot
her.”

As her eyes adjusted to the relentless autumn sun, she realized she was being walked down a worn, brown grass pathway.  The crowds on each side of her were contained only by yellow tape with CAUTION typed on it in bold black lettering.  Every few feet there were slender wooden stakes to support the flimsy ribbon fence.  About 150 men, women, and children gathered along the sidelines to jeer.  Some tossed garbage in her direction.  Luckily, the only object that hit her was a crumpled ball of notebook paper.  It smacked against her temple and Dresden shot a glance of annoyance to her left.  She could not see past the crowd, and Lyle, following closely at her back, refused to let her see the location from which she emerged.