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The man hesitated, resulting in one of the guards quickly lunging forward and grabbing him by the arm. They dragged him out and the flap whisked closed again.
I stared wide-eyed at the off-white canvas before me. My head snapped around to the others in the vehicle who weren’t making a move, or a sound.
“What just happened? Where is he going?” I demanded.
The guard in the wagon raised his blade slightly. “Quiet.”
His icy tone forced me to obey, but it also increased my growing fears.
The decrepit wagon bumped along the road once more. There was a small sliver between the flap and the wagon at the back that I could peer through if I held my head at a certain angle.
I squinted, trying to make out what the outside looked like. It appeared we were rolling through the village still—at least I assumed it was the same one. At some point, the bumpy road turned to cobblestone. The buildings looked a little better than the huts that had donned the streets where I was first brought in, but it was distinctly missing the row-to-row homes and businesses, the on-top-of-each-other layout I was used to seeing day in and day out. Another alert that I wasn’t anywhere close to home.
I closed my eyes tightly, praying this wagon would stop soon and I could somehow get to someone who might be more willing to help me.
The wagon slowed and I prepared myself again. I clenched my fists as the flap opened. The guards again stood watching the inside of the wagon with disinterest and pointing to the people they needed. This time two were unloaded.
I swallowed, even though it was hard; my throat had become sandpaper. Were those leaving the wagon being murdered? Disposed of? What was happening? And why at different spots along the route we were on?
My breathing slowed as I forced myself to inhale through my nose. Panic wouldn’t save me. I’d been in tough spots before, and the only way to survive was to never show fear and to stay alert.
Stay alert.
I repeated the phrase as my fellow travelers were unloaded from the wagon a few at a time. Stop after stop. Sometimes in pairs, sometimes alone.
One by one the travelers I was with disappeared. Most likely dead. And I would be next. If I couldn’t find a way to stay alert. To stay calm.
Finally, it was just me. I was all that remained.
I’d make a run for it the minute we stopped again. The moment my feet hit the ground outside of this forsaken wagon. I had to.
This whole scenario was crazy from the start, but as my time here continued, it was worse and worse. Maybe this was some sort of weird cult town. Inside the city, anonymous, which was why I’d never been to this area. Some rich weirdos hunting down misfits and nobodies for sport.
I’d watched one too many serial killer dramas. This seemed just the sort of mixed up, deranged ending though.
The wagon slowed, rolling along with no bumps, but I felt it slow down none the less. I’d barely noticed the smooth ride the last stretch.
A horse whinnied and I glanced at the guard to my right. He was relaxed, unassuming as he held his sword in hand. I pressed my shoulders down to appear defeated. The guard looked back at me, I could see him from my periphery. I’d sell my compliance with the situation hard. Lull the guards into a peaceful sense of serenity, then bolt.
I honed in on the noises outside the wagon. The flap rustled and folded over itself to create an opening.
I burst forward, lunging out of the vehicle right as the outside world could be seen. So much for lulling them; a last-minute switch to the element of surprise seemed more plausible for my chances at escaping.
So far I was right. I had successfully surprised the guards and sprinted in the direction we’d driven from.
Arms wrapped around my waist and dragged me down as a guard tackled me from behind. I hadn’t even made it very far.
“Ugh!” I cried out.
I wasn’t fast enough. Not for two guards. They were in remarkable shape and their speed was better than the average cop in the city.
They both rolled me over, dragging me to a standing position. As soon as my feet hit the ground, I tried to run, but my sneakers kept slipping on the smooth cobblestones. I couldn’t get a grip. No wonder the ride had been smooth. The scratching noise from my shoes scuffing picked up as I tried to yank myself out of the guards’ grasp. They were strong. Too strong for me.
The guard from inside the vehicle stepped down with his sword sheathed on his back, and he narrowed his eyes at me.
“You will calm down. Or you’ll have an injury that will not feel pleasant.” He slowly dragged the weapon from over his shoulder and brought it to his hands. “One that would make that bruise on your face look like child’s play.”
I clamped my mouth shut and began breathing rapidly through my nose.
