Badlands (Spent Shells, #1) Read online

  I can’t walk away now. No amount of reason will turn off my rage. I must destroy him and offer her salvation.

  The worm shows no concern over striking the woman in front of an audience. He never sees me coming. His weak attempts to defend himself—a failed punch, a meager kick, a wild swing of the blade—prove him to be a pathetic loser only capable of hurting a woman and child.

  I leave the bloody, barely conscious man on the ground. Killing him would be easy, but I have witnesses. Not the people fleeing around us. I’m more concerned with the crying woman and her trembling child.

  “Do you want to leave with me?” I ask, holding her gaze.

  Despite her terror, she doesn’t look away. I see strength in her gaze. Hope too. She understands what I do. I’m no normal man, and she’s no normal woman. We’re two halves, and we belong together.

  Others might scoff, but my parents proved love doesn’t need to make sense. It exists outside of rules and expectations.

  The woman’s hazel eyes widen. She sees danger behind me. Possibly, the men from the other roadside stand approach with a hopeless plan to defend the fallen worm.

  I glance down at the child. With little experience with kids, I can’t tell if she’s two or five or somewhere in between. I only know she watches me with brown eyes a shade darker than her mother’s. The child reaches for my hand.

  On a primal level, she understands I’m here to save them. Her mother remains too focused on the approaching danger to do more than shield her daughter and pray the end comes quickly.

  She flinches at the crack of the first gunshot. Less so for the second one.

  I hold her gaze and smile. “Ready to leave?”

  Behind me, Neri finishes firing her pistol. I assume her shots landed perfectly. My sister rarely misses.

  I stand and extend a hand to the woman. She hesitates. Her gaze flashes to Neri. My sister creates a striking image—tall, athletically built, dark hair tied up in a precise bun, and pale brown skin shining from the heat.

  “We need to go,” Neri says in our native tongue.

  “You must choose,” I tell the woman still on the ground. “Them or us.”

  The woman glances down at her child, sucking nervously on her sleeve. Her gaze returns to me, and she reaches for my hand. I lift the woman to her feet and gesture for her to follow my sister.

  Around us, people race away in their cars. I notice one making a video with her phone. With one shot, I shatter the device. If the woman was live streaming, I can’t erase what she saw. If she was recording, I’ve allowed us a bit more anonymity.

  My final shot lands between the fearful eyes of the worm. He stares at me as I aim down at him. I think he plans to speak, but I’m uninterested in his lies.

  I hurry to where Neri revs our Land Rover. In the backseat, the woman and her child huddle. Sliding into the passenger seat, I smile at my sister. Then I twist around to soothe the woman I plan to make mine.

  FRIDA

  I stare out the back of the SUV at the road creating distance between my prison and me. Anika stands on the seat and looks where I do. Our gazes meet, and she stares at me with the brown eyes of a man I can’t identify. Is her father one of the Simmons brothers? Or Jonah, who made me submit to the earth while he raped me? I don’t know who her father is, but I know I’m the only one who cares if she takes another breath. This thought frightens me. I’m nothing against an unkind world. How can I protect her?

  “Sit,” I say and pat the seat. “Seatbelt.”

  The Children of the Black Sun don’t believe in car safety. They think belts and child seats are tools meant to weaken the strong. But I wasn’t always one of them, and I remember how my mother had me strapped in when she drove. I do the same now with Anika.

  She doesn’t like the belt across her. It’s meant for an adult and wraps across her face rather than her chest. I adjust the strap behind her, except I don’t think that’s right. Will she be safe in an accident?

  I study the woman driving. Would she know the answer? She looks my age. Is she a mother? I don’t know how she’s connected to the man who saved us.

  No, she saved us too. The other shepherds would have killed the man. They would have taken Anika and me back to the homestead. I might have only been punished. I’m still young and attractive enough to redeem. But, sometimes, the shepherds lose their tempers, and the women don’t survive their punishments.

  Anika doesn’t like the belt and pulls at it. I shake my head, giving her the same look as when she wants to talk during dinner. We aren’t our own people. We are slaves to the will of others.

  My daughter submits. Her hands fall to her sides, and she lowers her head. I’ve trained her well. When Anika was little, she didn’t understand. Every time the shepherds punished me, and I submitted to the earth—face to the ground, arms stretched behind me—she would try to get me up.

  As minutes turned to hours without me moving, she’d cry. The other women would comfort her when she was very little.

  Then Shepherd Jacob decided Anika was old enough to be punished too. He forced her little body into position. When she tried to lift her head, he pressed it back down with his boot.

  When my baby cried, he pushed harder. I’d look in Anika’s eyes, quietly begging her to submit. Jacob might kill her without thinking. I watched as her tiny body wracked with sobs while his big foot pushed harder to keep her still.

  “Submit, baby,” I whispered.

  Anika has more spirit than me. She fought each time, crying and struggling while the shepherds held her down. Some of them would kneel and hold her head. Others like Jacob used his boot until I imagined him stomping so hard that her life was gone forever.

  Each time, I begged her to submit.

  And she finally learned her feelings didn’t matter.

  I taught my baby to embrace being nothing.

  The memory awakens my sorrow. I helped those bad people break my daughter’s spirit. Each time, I watched the light in her eyes fade until she now submits immediately.

  But she’s only four and sometimes forgets. Like today when a shepherd threw her little body like a ragdoll, and I did nothing to protect her.

  Crying quietly behind my hands, I wish Anika could forgive me, but she doesn’t understand. She watches my sorrow but doesn’t cry too. She knows feelings are bad. That’s why she got hurt today. We shouldn’t feel anything. We aren’t worthy of joy or sorrow.

  “Don’t fear,” the man says, reaching back and pressing his fingers under my chin. “You are safe with us.”

  I stare in his eyes and wish I understood why he helped us.

  “Put on your seatbelt,” he says in the softest voice. “Just in case.”

  I do as I’m told. I always try to be obedient, but it’s never enough at the homestead. They don’t trust me. I wasn’t born there. I fought them in the beginning. They know I hate them. It’s why I believe they’ll kill me if Anika and I return to the homestead.

  “What is your name?” he asks.

  “Frida,” I whisper, saying the name given to me by Jedediah when I first arrived.

  Anika lifts her head and watches us. My name means something bad to her. When the shepherds call it out, I’m in trouble. Or I’m meant to serve them. Either way, Anika knows my name means pain and sadness.

  “And your child?” he asks.

  His voice is like feathers on my skin, making me shiver. “Anika,” I whisper, afraid to speak too loudly and anger him.

  “I’m Kai. This is my sister, Neri. We’re on holiday in this country. We plan to return to our home. You will join us.”

  Cold dread flushes over me. “Where?”

  “Nicaragua.”

  “I don’t know where that it.”

  Rather than get angry at my words, Kai only smiles wider. “A country where you can leave behind the madness you’ve known. Think of it as a fresh start.”

  The woman glances at him, seeming unhappy that I’m here. She’s his sister, not his wif
e. That makes more sense, but I can’t imagine where we’re going or why they’re helping us.

  “Why?”

  Smiling warmly, he nods. “I saw something when I looked in your eyes. More than that, I felt something. I chose not to look away.”

  Neri again glances at him. I don’t know what her look means, but I worry. The women at the homestead reported bad behavior to be punished. When I was young, I wanted to be close to the women because I missed my mom and friends, but no one trusts each other there. They’re always searching for sin. Rewards are given to those who report the most wrongdoing.

  Eventually, I reported bad behavior too, just to please the shepherds. If they punished someone else, I could protect Anika. If someone else submitted to the earth, my daughter didn’t suffer.

  “Are you hungry?” Neri asks after a long while before saying something to Kai in words I don’t understand.

  The siblings share a quick foreign conversation, and then Kai looks at me again. “No one seems to be following us, but we shouldn’t stop to eat. There’s an exit coming up with fast food restaurants. Would you like to eat?”

  I look at Anika, who stares confused. She’s never been in a car for this long. All I know is these people are helping us. Nothing beyond that makes sense.

  “We don’t have money,” I whisper, feeling stupid since he must notice how our clothes have no pockets.

  “Would Anika like a hamburger or chicken nuggets?” he asks before turning his head toward Neri and speaking in the other language. She replies, and he nods. “Those are usually the choices for children at these places.”

  “I don’t know. We never go out to eat,” I say and then remember my mother bringing me to McDonald's. I try to imagine Anika eating a burger, and then I picture her with the nuggets. The second one sounds less confusing. “Chicken.”

  Neri speaks in their language again, and Kai nods. “My sister believes they have other choices like apples or milk. Let me search the menu online.”

  “What would you like to eat, Frida?” Neri asks, watching me through the rearview.

  Her eyes are darker than Kai’s, but their skin color—a pale beige—and dark brown hair match. I lose track of the question, and she asks again softer this time.

  “I don’t care.”

  “Life is too short not to care,” she says, and I feel scolded despite her gentle tone.

  “We’ll go inside so she can look at the choices,” Kai says.

  “That’s not smart.”

  “We won’t eat inside, but we should use the restroom.”

  “Kai, her face is bruised,” Neri says and then changes to the other language.

  The siblings share a heated conversation. I don’t know who wins, but Kai doesn’t look happy.

  “We need to fill up our tank, and you should use the restroom. We’ll have to move quickly. People see too much in this part of the country. They’re always watching outsiders.”

  Nodding, I sense the tension in their demeanor. I feel as if we’ve been driving forever, but the sun remains high in the sky. Outside the windows, I see no homes or businesses. Just mile after mile of nothingness.

  “Frida,” Kai says as the SUV eventually takes an exit. I pull my gaze from the lines of stores and restaurants. Focusing on his face, I shiver again at the sight of such beauty. “The men from today have friends, yes?” When I nod, he continues, “Do you believe they’ll follow us?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then we must be very smart right now. I will fill up the tank to ensure we’re able to drive for a long time. You will take Anika to the restroom. Don’t speak to anyone. Neri will be with you. If she says you must leave, please listen to her.”

  After I nod, Neri says something that causes Kai’s expression to darken. He focuses on me and struggles to say the words, “Do you want to go back to those people you lived with?”

  Fear grips me when I think his sister hopes to abandon us. “Please, no.”

  I can’t explain to them what will happen. Crying isn’t an option either. We’re surrounded by other cars now. People mill around. I must remain calm.

  “Do you want to come with us?” he asks and adds, “I promise we will not harm you.”

  “Please, don’t send us back.”

  “Then you will listen to Neri, yes? People here will notice us quickly. Our skin is darker, and your clothes are different. Someone here might be friends with someone at the compound. We can’t assume we’re safe. Move quickly. Think smart. Speak to no one except Neri and me. Do you understand?”

  Nodding, I’m relieved they aren’t sending us back. By now, Jedidiah has decided our fate. Returning to the homestead would offer only suffering.

  Next to me, Anika tugs at the strap. Once she’s loose and able to sit up higher, she notices people outside the SUV. I admire how her eyes light up. My baby is so curious about the world.

  During the next painful few minutes, I’m so afraid that I can barely breathe. I take Anika from her seat and carry her inside the restaurant. We look quickly at the bright menu full of so many choices. Neri then hurries us to the restrooms. There’s no wait to use a stall, and I talk Anika into urinating in the toilet despite her obvious fear. She’s never used an indoor bathroom before.

  Neri says she messaged her brother about what to order. I think to say thank you, but our voices echo in the restroom, and I hate mine.

  After we’re done urinating, I only get a quick glimpse of my face in the mirror. The bruise on my cheek barely hurts, but it’ll draw attention. So will the bump on Anika’s forehead where we collided after Shepherd Kenneth threw her.

  Waiting quietly as we finish, Neri keeps her hand on her hip, near a hidden gun.

  We rush back to the SUV, where I immediately smell the food Kai ordered while we were inside. Soon, we drive to the next-door gas station. Neri fills up the tank as Kai hurries inside the store for supplies.

  “Eat?” Anika whispers, and I realize how hungry she must be, especially in an SUV filled with the scent of food.

  I tell her soon, and she lowers her chin to her chest. My baby’s overwhelmed. I feel the same way. Every minute we spend in this place—surrounded by strangers who might know the Children of the Black Sun—I get sicker to my stomach.

  Returning to the highway offers relief. Kai stops watching our surroundings and hands back the food. Anika is very interested in the juice pouch. She smiles so big when she takes her first sip. The chicken nuggets cause a lot of weird frowns. I smile at her reaction to the ranch dipping sauce.

  Then she sees the little toy. I don’t know what the pink plastic thing is supposed to be. Is this a popular character on a show? I take the four-inch figure from the plastic and run my fingers over its inch-high, soft purple hair. It reminds me of a troll doll from when I was little.

  Anika wasn’t allowed toys on the homestead. Children needed to enjoy the earth, not material things. Now she’s blind to everything except the little toy I hand to her.

  “To play,” I explain as she stares in awe at the bright, ugly thing.

  Anika runs her small fingers over the fuzzy hair like I did and then smiles at me.

  “Anika?” she asks.

  “Yes.”

  Her smile widens, and I can almost forget the expression on her little face when Kenneth threw her at me. Fighting tears, I look away from Anika and notice Kai watching us.

  His expression is unreadable, but only because I don’t know enough about people. He catches my gaze, and I think he understands. This ugly toy is the first gift Anika’s ever received.

  “We’ll drive until sunset to allow more distance between us and that place,” Kai explains in his warm, accented voice. “The drive won’t be comfortable, but stopping is dangerous.”

  Nodding, I finally pull my gaze away from his and look at Anika, still admiring her toy. I don’t know how long our luck will continue, but she’s already freer in this single moment than she’s been in her entire life.

 
≫TWO SPENT SHELLS≪

  KAI

  Driving all night isn’t possible once the child begins vomiting her lunch. McDonald’s proves to be too hard on her stomach, forcing us to stop at a small hotel where I pay for a single room in the back. Frida hurries Anika to the bathroom, where the child finishes throwing up everything she ate earlier.

  An agitated Neri peers through the golden-colored curtains and studies the nearly-empty parking lot. “It’s quiet here.”

  “On the highway, I noticed a Walmart sign. The child needs fresh clothes, and Frida requires different ones. Wouldn’t hurt to have something to feed them besides junk food too.”

  “Do I go or you?”

  “You.”

  Neri’s catlike eyes widen. “I have no clue how to shop for a child.”

  “It can’t be that complicated.”

  “Then, you do it.”

  Smiling, I tap her foot with mine. “No.”

  “Because I’m a woman.”

  “Yes. The locals will barely notice you. The men might admire you. The women will think you’re a tramp. But with me? They’ll assume I’m a terrorist or drug runner.”

  My sister’s lips twist with annoyance. “You just don’t want to buy baby stuff.”

  “She isn’t a baby. A toddler maybe?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Look online. Or check the tag on her clothes for the size.”

  My sister gives me a harsh frown. “Do those look like store-bought clothes to you, Kai? They make them out of burlap.”

  “Not burlap.”

  Neri shrugs. “No, perhaps not. But they’re certainly not store-bought.”

  “What you buy doesn’t have to be perfect. She just needs to wear something that isn’t homemade.”

  “Well, at least, we agree they’re not store-bought.”

  Emerging from the bathroom, Frida looks worn down after a long day. Her bruised cheek stands in stark contrast to her honey-tanned skin. The child looks heavy in Frida’s thin arms, as she cradles Anika in a chair.