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“Why didn’t you tell anyone about Mitch and his brother?” I ask. “They’ve been abducting women and girls for years.”
She pulls away and looks at me, her face stricken. “I didn’t know that. I didn’t know anything about that. I just knew I had to get you away from here.”
I believe her, for what it’s worth.
The rumbling of many bikes interspersed with car engines going fast over rough terrain, suddenly drowns out all else. A commotion erupts around Cross and the others, including angry shouts, curses and even a shot or two.
My heart is thumping in my throat as I extricate myself from my mother’s arms to run and see what is going on.
Scar is standing by the open front door of a dark blue pickup parked right in the middle of the lawn encircling the tribal center. He’s holding his hands out as though in surrender, but he or the cars and bikes that drove right over the lawn to reach us because the road is blocked, is not the only cause of the uproar. I’m guessing that’s mostly the two bloodied men in the bed of the truck. I can’t tell them apart because their faces are covered in too much dried blood, but I know it’s Mitch and his brother.
“What did you do to them?” yells a man running towards them with his pistol bouncing as he aims it at Scar. He’s not the only one doing the same.
“Hold up, lower your weapons,” Scar yells. “They’re not the only ones with us.”
One of my father’s men opens the back door of the other truck, and a few moments later a small girl with long, chocolate colored hair climbs out. Her dirty jeans and t-shirt, which might’ve been yellow once, but is mostly dirt brown now, are hanging off her like she’s lost a lot weight recently. She’s shaking as she looks around the crowd, her thin arms wrapped tightly around her torso.
“Oh my God! Aysha!” I woman wails from somewhere in the middle of the crowd and the men who were running at Scar stop dead, colliding with each other, some of them tumbling to the ground.
Two women, four men and a bunch of little kids are running towards Aysha, when a second girl climbs out of the truck. She doesn’t look as lost or frightened as the first and her clothes are in better shape.
“Kate!” a woman yells and this time a large portion of the crowd accompanies her as she rushes to her daughter, or possibly granddaughter.
Frank is in the lead, of this second wave of people followed closely by Miriam, Joyce and Sharina.
“Where did you find them?” he asks Scar breathlessly, his eyes shining happily as he looks from him to the girls and back.
Scar points at the bloody men in the bed of the truck. “They were holding them in a cellar under the kennel at a scrapyard. There was another one, but they sold her to some guy named Falk, a rich politician or something.”
“Harry Falk?” Frank asks. “The congressman?”
Scar shrugs. “Ask them, they’re still alive. But keep them away from me, or they won’t be for long.”
The crowd is crying and laughing and even singing as they welcome the two girls back. Cross and Rose are standing beside me now, one to each side. My parents. I wish Roxie was here too.
I lean my head on Cross’ shoulder and take Rose’s hand.
“We did OK,” I say and he grunts and she laughs nervously.
At the edge of the crowd, Ariana is crying as she speaks to Eagle and I can see it in his face that he has no idea how to react. I should go and help him. I should go and stand by him, because that’s where I truly belong now. Where I always belonged. I’m certain of that now. I just wish I’d seen it sooner. But I’ll stay here just a little bit longer, enjoying the family, my family that might have been.
* * *
EAGLE
Cross was getting heard by both Frank and the crowd, Lily was talking way back of us to a woman that I’m sure is her mother, and I figured things had finally turned all the way for the better, when all hell broke loose.
First the bikes roaring across the lawn, then weapons drawn and yells going up in the crowd in front of us, then stomping feet as men ran towards my brothers’ stopped cars and bikes. I turned to run to Lily, so she wouldn’t get caught up in the middle of it far away from me, when someone grabbed my arm and halted me. Ariana, my father’s sister, my aunt, her eyes red with crying, her cheeks covered in the salty tracks of her dried tears, her hand clutching my arm painfully, vice-like.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean any of the accusations I made against you or your father. He’s a good man and I’m sure you are too. But I could think of no other way to chase you and Lily away off the Rez. You weren’t safe here.”
Fresh tears are streaming down her face and she’s shaking. Her grip on my arm is still tight and painful. Shouts are still erupting around us.
“Please forgive me,” she stutters.
“Look, I have to go make sure Lily’s safe now,” I tell her. “We’ll talk later.”
At this point, I don’t know what kind of later we’ll be facing, but she seems on the verge of breaking completely and I don’t want to make a wrong move and cause that.
