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I decide to save my questions and follow him, keeping his brisk pace.
“It’s the only option,”Father mutters.“Ain’t no other safe place. She’ll be taken care of.”
“Huh?” I ask, confused.
Father spins on his heels again. “Shut your mouth, girl!”
A fresh wave of fear washes over me. I’ve seen my father mad plenty of times. But never like this.
Father continues, and I follow, but the more I see of this strange new world, the more worried I get. I’m pretty sure I know what those women are up to, and it’s not good, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that the world has fallen into madness when the dead literally walk the earth.
We arrive at a building with neon lights and I wonder how much of the city has electricity and when we might get it.
Father opens the door. “Get inside.”
“What’s in there?”
“If you don’t shut your mouth, a beating.”
I swallow a thick lump in my throat. It’s been a long time since my father threatened to beat me, and even longer since he’s actually done so. I was around nine, and my mother made him go to anger management afterward. I forgave him because he was my father, and as complicated a man as he was, he loved us.
I shuffle through the door and notice that not only is the whole place lit, but there’s music playing. It has a rapid beat with indistinguishable vocals, like something that would play at a rave.
“Where are we?” I ask.
An older woman approaches. “This is where we used to operate. Now, we use it to conduct unsavory business transactions.” Her thin lips pull into a smile. “My, aren’t you pretty.”
“Huh?”
“You may call me Madam Frisk.”
Suddenly, I get it. I know what this place is.
“Father…” I look over at him and realize that he knows too.
Footsteps sound and I hear men talking, but I’m too angry to understand their words.
My father didn’t need help bringing back food.
My father brought me here to sell me.
Before I can act, the shovel I’m carrying is ripped from my hands by a big, burly man.
“You did good, Bruce,” the man says to my father. “She’ll be in good hands.”
I turn to bolt, but my father quickly sidesteps, and I run straight into his chest.
“How could you!” I gasp.
“Your sister needs to eat.”
The big man hands a backpack to my father. “Here’s the tequila I promised you. You can have your pick of the women down Salem Street. Three visits.”
“That’s not going to feed Maisy,” I snap.
Father downcasts his eyes in shame but takes the bag and leaves. I try to follow, but the big man grabs me and pushes me further into the place.
“Now, listen here. My name’s Frank, and so long as you listen and do as you’re told, you’ll be protected and fed. But if you dare defy me…well, let me show you what will happen.”
