Page 3 of Uncivilized

I had to get out of there. Turning on my heel, which squeaked because I was such a soaked mess, I ran for the door.

“Wait.”

I stopped. The power of his order rendered me practically unable to disobey him. He wasn’t a man that people didn’t listen to. I turned to stare at him.

He held up the paper for a second before he passed it to the strawberry-blond who took it, read it, and then passed it to the one with white, blonde hair. He finally passed it to Ransom.

“Did you read that note?”

I shook my head. “No. I can’t read.”

Why teach women to read when we were only around for one reason? Men weren’t paying Clarke for me to read to them.

White-blond man blinked rapidly. “Then how did you get here?”

I pulled out another note. “Amias wrote down things, and I just matched his words with the ones I needed as I went. He anticipated what I would have to see. When it varied, and it didn’t much, I asked for help.”

“You’re smart.” Strawberry blond smiled at me. It was a sad smile, like Amias’ death rode on the edges of it.

“She’s a sex worker, ” Ransom supplied. “In case you missed the brand.”

I touched my forehead, an instinctive move I made whenever someone brought it up. “I’m not a sex worker. I don’t go out on the street and sell myself. Yes, Clarke owns my body and gives it out as he sees fit. He owns all of us on our planet. None of us are free.” That thought spurred me forward. “I have to go.”

I didn’t know why I even wasted the time to justify myself to them. What difference did it make what they thought about me? If a woman had to sell herself to survive, then that was her fate. I wasn’t better or worse than they were. It just was what it was.

The leader spoke again. “I said wait.” He took a step toward me. “We haven’t heard from Amias in years. He vanished, leaving just a note to tell us he was never coming back. Then you arrive, and you’ve delivered this blow. It’s going to take a moment. What is your name?”

I sighed. “I have to get back. There is no time to lose. I’ve been gone for a week. They can only cover for so long before it will be noted, and then everyone who helped me will be punished.”

Ransom held up the note. “Do you want to know what it says?”

“He didn’t tell me. It was for all of you.” And I’d learned long ago to mind my business. Why would I want to step in other people’s trouble when I had plenty all on my own?

Ransom crumpled up the note, and my heart split in two. “No.” I rushed forward and then skidded to a stop. What was I doing? Still, I spoke before I could stop myself. “That is the last thing he did. Please don’t throw it away. Please keep it. Forever.”

He slammed it down on the table. “It says, I’m sorry. Nothing for years and years. I’m sorry. And he’s dead. Fuck. This. Shit.” Ransom stormed out of the room, slamming a door in his wake.

I forced myself to swallow. Okay. Time to leave.

I ran from the bar, and no one tried to stop me. The rain pounded down on me with even more force than before, or maybe I’d started to dry off, making it feel even worse. It didn’t matter. I had to make it back to the shuttle before it left. My feet burned since the heels on my borrowed shoes were worn thin. I couldn’t think. I just had to get there.

The streets were once again empty, and the face the shuttle pilot made when he dropped me off made sense. Why had I wanted to be here? I didn’t.

But I’d done what my friend asked of me. I did it. I wiped at my eyes. The last and really only thing he’d ever requested, and I hadn’t failed him. It felt important, somehow.

I skidded to a stop. There was a sign where the shuttle sat parked, but I couldn’t read it. Why was it dark? Why wasn’t there anyone waiting for the shuttle? I made it back on time—he’d said it would take off again in two hours.

It had not been two hours.

I looked around. There was no one to ask about the sign. What was happening? Thunder blasted its loud trumpet in the night sky.

What was I to do? Amias had left no instructions on how to find my way back home.

“They don’t fly in weather like this.”

It was the redhead from the bar. I turned to look at him through the downpour. He didn’t seem to be bothered by the onslaught. In fact, as the water hit his chest, practically gluing his shirt to his body, it somehow became an even better look for him. My hair wasn’t as blond as his when I wasn’t wet. It was a darker shade of red.

“He said they’d take off in two hours.”

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