Madam beckoned her and she took a breath to draw resolve and fortitude from the dwindling stash inside her. She squeezed Moon’s hand then released it and stood. Threaded through the upright figures towards the men. She was accompanied by six others alternately beckoned or named by Madam. Girls for whom life had become endless violation. They were obedient. They didn’t protest. They didn’t cry or scream or tear their own flesh from their bones.

  They wanted to.

  She wanted to.

  But they knew better.

  To be anything but compliant meant death, for there was always another woman to take your place.

  Lieutenant smiled. As if this was prom night and she the hard-won date. She let him think that even though she wanted to tear his eyes out and ram them down his throat with his hands and his balls and his dick. To make him pay for what he and the other men did to these women.

  Did to her.

  But like all the others, she held it in. Not because she cared about living: any desire to live had vanished the first night in this place, with the first soldier who had forced his way inside her innocent body again and again. Hand over her mouth when she screamed. Over her nose. She couldn’t breathe and tears fell from her eyes like rivers.

  While inside she died.

  Died on the rack of a man’s lust. A man’s violence.

  She didn’t care about living. It would be a blessing to die. She lived only for Moon, so she could live, so she might be free and carry the other girls to safety.

  Moon was anguish. She was pain and desolation. But she was also hope.

  Something about Moon made her hope. Made her feel strong. Gave her a purpose.

  Moon kept her heart beating because she believed that if Moon died the country would die. Because she was them. In her helplessness and sorrow for all she had lost, she was them.

  Moon’s light must shine again.

  And when it did, it would drive away the evil bastards that inhabited their land.

  Lieutenant ushered her before him into the room. Pretending he had manners. It made her hate him even more, if that were possible, because he took her for a fool.

  But didn’t all these men believe women were fools?

  Women were just bodies without thinking brains that they could force their way into for a quick high of pleasure.

  Power.

  That’s what they got off on. Not the sex but the power of subjugating another person. And letting her go before him was another way of subjugating her.

  She wondered what he’d do if she refused?

  She didn’t need to think very hard for the answer.

  So she smiled and said thank you and bolstered his ego by entering the room with his hand on her back sliding as she walked so it rested on her buttocks. Hot like a brand through the thin linen robe she wore.

  Breath stinking of alcohol.

  The warmth slid from her buttocks to her belly then between her legs. Unzipping himself. Pushing her face down on the bed. Taking his fill.

  Did he really believe that opening a door made him a good man? When he closed it and raped her?

  The sheet beneath her face stank of it. Of the monsters who left their scent in the room. Marking their territory.

  Why did she want Moon to live when this would be her fate?

  Some of the men liked the privacy of a room for rape. A room the size of a closet with a single stretcher and soft lighting.

  But some men just took what they wanted in the open. In a corner. Or in the middle of the room. They didn’t care. Liked to show their prowess. Madam just smiled and turned away and whether that smile became anger or disgust or sadness when her back was to them no one knew. Because when she faced them again the smile was still the same.

  Some people want to live so much they don’t care who they step on to achieve their goal.

  ‘Do you have more?’ she said when he was done. When her insides were on fire and she wanted to curl in a ball and scream and scream and scream until her throat burst and death floated in on the blood to pick her up and carry her away. ‘You promised to bring more.’

  His gaze was quizzical. ‘Why is that woman so important to you? Is she a relative?’

  I told you she’s not my relative, yet every time you fucking ask the same question. ‘She’s my friend. And the other men say the Invader ordered her brought here.’

  Something I’ve also told you. But why would you remember? If I walked by you in the street you wouldn’t recognise me unless I took off my clothes and opened my legs.

  ‘You’re lucky he did because I do have some more,’ he said and quizzical became coy. ‘But only for little girls who are good to their daddies.’

  Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.

  So she was good to him. An expert now at not gagging.

  One of the girls had done that. Soon after she was imprisoned here. The soldier hit her so hard her neck broke. So they all held in their nausea, knowing if they pretended well it would be over much faster.

  ‘Only two?’ she said. ‘She needs more than two. That will only last a few hours.’

  He shrugged as he tucked in his uniform shirt and zipped his pants. ‘Supplies are running low so it’s all she’s allowed at the moment.’

  ‘But…’

  She smothered anything else because his gaze had sharpened like twin knives with serrated edges.

  He was better than the others but still evil and violent and would break her neck for a but and walk away and not give her another thought.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, forcing a smile. ‘You are very good to me. I…I don’t deserve it.’

  ‘No, you don’t. You’re just a whore.’

  34

  SOLDIER WOKE ME. I hadn’t realised I was asleep. Thought I was still lost in the despair of what I had heard. I was lost in it because even though I slept the despair hadn’t left me. It had intensified. Swirling around my brain and joining my dreams and creating images and memories that felt like my own.

  But they weren’t.

  They were Eldest’s. Words spoken to her by the woman who had helped her. A woman I could never thank because she was probably dead.

  ‘We must go,’ whispered Soldier.

  Now it was his words that startled me wide awake and I gazed around with unfocused eyes to see Grandmother collecting our meagre belongings, face tight with worry.

  ‘Why…what has happened?’

  ‘The Pack. A patrol. They’re in the farmhouse questioning the farmer and his wife. They will search the outbuildings once they’re done. Hurry. We must take Eldest.’ His gaze rested on her for a moment before he extinguished the lamp.

  ‘But…if we touch her she will…she will…the Pack will hear her.’

  ‘There’s nothing we can do about that.’

  ‘We can muffle her face,’ said Grandmother, unwinding the woollen scarf from her neck.

  ‘No,’ I said, on my feet, ready to stop her, stumbling in the now pitch dark. ‘You’ll smother her. Even if you don’t, it will distress her.’

  ‘It’s the only choice we have,’ said Grandmother.

  The only choice. Except two. Leaving Eldest behind. Or dying. She didn’t need to say it, I didn’t need to see it on her face. For I knew it already.

  I gave a single nod but took the scarf from her. If anyone was going to do it, it must be me. ‘Do we have transport? How do we get away?’

  Soldier shook his head. ‘I’ll have to carry her.’

  That stopped me. ‘But…she’s too heavy. They’ll catch us.’

  ‘There’s a wood near, about a mile north. We can make for that. It will at least give us somewhere to hide…buy us time.’

  I stared at him and wrung the scarf between suddenly damp hands. I told myself it was impossible, yet knew there was no other choice. Knew nothing was impossible anymore.

  I breathed deeply. Snapped around and knelt beside my daughter with words of reassurance already on my lips. Then paused. ‘Where is Crow?’

  ‘She’s watching through the window of the farmhouse,’ said Soldier. ‘She’ll get herself killed,’ muttered Grandmother.

  ‘Crow knows what she’s doing,’ said Soldier.

  ‘She is barely more than a child,’ said Grandmother.

  ‘She knows,’ said Soldier and went to the doors and scanned the darkness. ‘It’s not snowing. The ground is rock hard with ice, which is good because it will conceal our tracks. Bring the blankets,’ he added over his shoulder. ‘We’ll need them.’

  ‘Let’s hope we do,’ muttered Grandmother.

  ‘Soldier?’ I said. ‘Can you see Crow? She has a way with Eldest. She may help keep her calm.’

  He nodded and stepped out the door. So silent I heard nothing.

  My hands hesitated over my daughter’s face. I didn’t want to do it but that wasn’t the reason. I could hear voices from the farmhouse. Men murmuring quietly. The raised voice of a woman. They seemed so near. And if I touched Eldest she would cry out and they would be even nearer.

  What would they do to us?

  Does the question even need to be asked? What would they do to Eldest?

  She was no use to them as a plaything now so they would kill her the same as us. But I wouldn’t allow that. I would kill her myself rather than let those disgusting bastards do it. I’d given her life. Husband had given her life. Our love. It went against every screaming cell in my body to take so precious a gift away again but I would do it to spare her.

  Daughter nailed to the wall with a screwdriver.

  My sons shot in the head.

  Husband defending them so fiercely. Felled by the first blast.

  Eldest had suffered too much already. She had been defiled. I would not let them defile her again with so much as a glance.

  Gently, so very, very gently, I lowered my open hand to her face, preparing to cover her mouth, to stifle the cry that would emerge before it could.

  Then I jerked my hand away as a gunshot broke the silence. Jerked as if it was my hand the bullet had pierced.

  A second gunshot followed, a third, and scuffling footsteps entered the stable. Crow skidded to her knees beside me. Behind her followed Soldier.

  ‘Hurry, we have to go,’ said Crow. ‘They’ve killed the farmer and his wife. They’ll be here in minutes. Soldier, take her. Take her now.’

  She snatched the scarf from my hand and pushed it over Eldest’s mouth, into her mouth, placing her hand on top. Pressing down firmly. Speaking softly.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  Eldest’s eyes flew open and the terror in them was a shockwave that rippled over us. I wondered if that was what they had done to her when they raped her. Put a hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming.

  I reached out to comfort her then stopped. Better terrified than dead.

  I rose and stepped back and looked away as Soldier picked her up. Writhing. Screaming behind the hand Crow kept hard against her mouth, her half-spoken words of reassurance barely audible and utterly futile.

  How do you comfort a woman who thinks the nightmare is starting all over again?

  Like conjoined twins Soldier and Crow lurched to the stable doors Grandmother held open. The old woman’s gaze was on the farmhouse. Then she nodded.

  ‘Go,’ she mouthed, her inky shadow body deformed by the bulbous bag.

  They squeezed out the door. Soldier’s steps were uneven as Eldest struggled in his arms. Crow scurried to keep up, trying to keep her hand firmly over her mouth.

  Grandmother beckoned me impatiently and I jerked from my stupor and grabbed the blankets, bundling them under my jumper as I ran. She closed the stable door quietly behind us and slid the latch into place.

  And together we ran.

  We caught up to the others swiftly. I could see the wood, so distant. We surely wouldn’t make it. Despite Crow’s hand I could hear Eldest’s cries and they seemed like sirens in the silence, calling the Pack to us. A glance behind showed the lights of the farmhouse. No movement yet. My eyes dallied too long and I stumbled over a rough patch of ground and fell to my knees then thudded onto my palms and smothered my own cry at the pain.

  Grandmother’s hand clawed at my arm and hauled me to my feet and her look was angry. I ran again, ignoring the pain, knowing she had a right to that look. Carelessness got people killed.

  There was a stone wall. Low enough to climb over, high enough to provide some concealment. Soldier straddled it with difficulty as Eldest kicked and fought; Crow managed to keep her hand in place until he’d clambered to the other side. But when she went to join him, it slipped.

  And Eldest shrieked.

  Soldier dropped immediately behind the wall and Eldest hit the ground with a thud. Then Crow was there, hand clamping down on Eldest’s face to smother a second cry. I tumbled over the wall, Grandmother falling half on top of me, and we shrunk to the base as if burrowing into the flint hard ground. No time to see if my daughter was alright.

  Life over certain death.

  They would have heard. They would have heard. Dear God, they would have heard. They had.

  The farmhouse door banged open. Voices sounded, so close. I pictured them stalking out into the yard with their guns waving, eyes scanning the fields for any sign of movement that could receive their eager bullets.

  Listening. For a breath. A heartbeat. A murmur. Waiting for another scream to give them direction. Shoot first and don’t worry about later because the Pack didn’t care about questions and answers.

  We stayed utterly still. Except Eldest, who thrashed and kicked and dug her feet into the frozen earth for leverage to escape. Soldier held her as securely as possible. Crow kept her hand over her mouth. Following the waves of her body as if riding a bull. Arching. Falling. Arching. Falling.

  Eldest started clawing at Crow’s hand and I scrambled over to her and took both her hands and held them. Held them too tight and felt the cracking bones so fragile within my grip but didn’t let go. Still she struggled. As if a thousand demons had taken possession of her. I’d thought her weak from hunger and trauma. But she was strong. So strong. It was how she’d fought on the day this began.

  I should feel proud of her spirit, and I did. Relief. Because it meant she was still in there. That she hadn’t been completely broken.

  But I also felt angry that she might get us all killed. At her lack of reason.

  Angry at myself for feeling that way because reason didn’t survive what she’d been through.

  Soldier pushed Crow’s hand aside to take its place. But where hers had covered only Eldest’s mouth, his covered mouth and nose. Completely. Pressing. Pinching.

  Smothering.

  I released her hands to drag at his, but before I could Grandmother grabbed me and held me back. I pulled away, shaking my head. No, no, no. Reaching to drag at Soldier’s hand again.

  Then I met his eyes.

  Trust me, Mother. You have to trust me. Would I hurt the person I love most in this world?

  So I stilled. Watched as Eldest tried to pull his hand away without success. Watched her struggles slow. Watched them stop.

  Soldier removed his hand and let her breathe again. I did too.

  She was unconscious. Only unconscious.

  ‘It won’t last long,’ he said, voice just an impression of sound. ‘Bind her hands and gag her properly.’

  Grandmother and I obeyed without question, taking the drawstring from the bag for her hands, wadding the scarf and pushing it into her mouth then winding the rest around her head and tying the ends.

  Life over death. That was all that mattered. So I won’t talk again about guilt.

  ‘They’ve gone into the stable,’ said Crow, peering over the wall. ‘One is in the yard.’

  We remained where we were. Eldest remained unconscious. But she made almost inaudible sounds. Her breath catching in her throat and hissing past the gag and hands twitching in their bindings. I kept my eyes fastened to her. Willing her to stay silent.

  But she was waking. Slowly, she was waking.

  I took my eyes from her to watch Crow, who was watching the Pack searching the stables and yard. Her eyes were intent. Totally focused. Then her head shook infinitesimally and slid behind the wall.

  ‘Two,’ she mouthed.

  Soldier raised his brows and made a movement with his finger, asking if they were coming towards us.

  Crow nodded.

  And Soldier took his gun from his belt.

  I thought I might vomit. Grandmother was crouched against the stone wall, eyes wide, breathing like a trapped bird. One, two, three, four, five. I could hear the footsteps now, feel their vibrations on the ground. Booted feet. Heavy feet. Feet that weren’t scared of being heard. A crunch as a stalwart thistle thick with ice was ground underfoot. As we would be.

  I stared at Eldest. Heard the hiss of her breath. Saw the movement of her hands. It would only take a hiss or a moan or a movement and they would find us.

  I remembered then.

  Remembered the day I met Soldier and what I had done. What I could do again. I knew I wasn’t a brave person, because the thought of dying scared me so my heart nearly stopped without needing a bullet to force it to do so. But I would do it again. To save Eldest. To save her lover. As he had saved me.

  But Crow must have seen something in my face with that uncanny prescience she often showed, and she curled her arm through mine. Then took Soldier’s hand. And he took Grandmother’s.

  We were all scared. None of us wanted to die.

  But together we could be brave. Together we could be strong. Drawing on each other’s courage.

  The soldiers stopped at the wall and Soldier lifted the gun, knowing to fire it would kill us as surely as the guns so near to us. Because once he fired they’d all be upon us and we wouldn’t be able to get to the wood before the others got to us.

  What’s the range of a machine gun?

  A long way, I bet. Why else use them?

  The two men were silent for a moment. Then talking.

  ‘Probably just a rabbit. Have you ever heard a rabbit caught by a fox? I have. Sounds like that. We used to wring their necks real slow just to hear them scream.’

  More silence. Then the second man spoke. ‘I couldn’t do that. I’m not so cruel.’

 

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