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Chapter4
Istruggled in vain against the grasp of yet another guard manhandling me.
He marched forward toward his goal, barely shaken as I gave him everything I had. Instead, he moved with me as if I was a mere annoyance.
“Let go of me.” I gritted my teeth as I hissed. “I’ll sue you all.”
The guard snorted. I stopped fighting as I saw a large wagon looming ahead. Two horses were tethered to the front; the disgustingly dirty cloth covering the rickety wooden crate was absolutely cringeworthy. A makeshift door hung open to the back of the wagon that essentially was just a flap of cloth with a few ropes that would tie to close it; if anyone inside wanted out, it needed to be opened from the outside.
The guard slowed and I resumed my fervent pleas that fell on uncaring ears. I was not going anywhere in that death trap.
The grip on my arm tightened. “Drugged or something. Maybe blood high. Some help?” the guard called.
“Drugs?” I asked. “Blood high? Are you talking about me? I’m not on dru—”
He shook me back and forth. Another guard came around the corner and took my free arm in his, like I was a rag doll, and they lifted me struggling into the back of the wagon.
A dozen faces stared back at me, which rattled me enough that I abruptly froze. I stopped breathing. What were we all doing here? Were we all being taken away against our will?
At least these eyes all looked like they were attached to normal-looking bodies. Most looked like me, or what I assumed I looked like: scared and a bit disheveled.
A quick glance over my shoulder revealed the two guards with their hands on their hips. There was another guard inside the vehicle with us. Only the one in the vehicle held a sword across his lap. Another freaking sword.
I choked back the fight in me and sat down next to a woman with a long black braid hanging over her shoulder. She was fidgeting with the ends and looking down, not making eye contact with anyone.
The first glimmer of silence from me since the judge’s orders must have given the guards hope because the draped cloth folded down and I heard the ropes being knotted, locking us in. The forceful grunts outside the wagon had a few of my companions squirming.
I leaned back against the hard wooden rail of the wagon and wiped my damp palms on the black leggings I wore. I looked around at each of the passengers minding their own business. No one was talking, so the noise from the wagon was much louder than it should have been as we lurched forward. With the silence, and the now steady beat of the horse hooves hitting the dirt road, I dared to hope I could at least whisper. If I could get someone talking, I could find out where I was and plan an escape.
I turned my head toward the woman I’d chosen to sit next to.
“Hi,” I whispered.
She didn’t even look at me, but she did pause her restless fingers. Enough that I knew she heard me.
My brows drew together when she tugged at her hair again, in the same rhythm as before.
I leaned closer. “I don’t want any trouble. I’m just wondering, where are we?”
This time, she moved aside, scooting closer to the person on her right.
I gazed around the wagon looking for someone to meet my eyes. The man across from me shot me a glare, but at least he made eye contact.
“Where are we?” I mouthed.
He frowned and turned his head, facing the back of the wagon, purposefully ignoring me.
Why was I being treated like a pariah?
The flapping cloth above me drew my attention as my thoughts spun in vicious circles. Darryl would be furious I wasn’t home. If this was real—it seemed more and more likely that my dream hypothesis was inaccurate—then I would be missing back home. Which meant I wouldn’t get out of the foster care system and get the help Joe suggested. So when I did get back, which I would, I’d be in quite a predicament even if I could get someone to listen to my rantings about my mistreatment here. Would anyone believe me? And how would I leave…here. Wherever here was.
In the midst of my all-out spiral, I barely noticed the wagon slowing down. We bumped over something that abruptly halted our rolling stop.
I braced my hands on my knees, trying to think through some sort of scenario in which I could make a run for it.
The doors opened and the two guards from earlier stood searching the inside of the dirt-covered ride.
“You,” one said in a gruff tone. He pointed to the man who had glared at me earlier. “This is where you get out.”
