* * *
Clark looked at
Charles and saw the fear in his eyes. With Wesley’s pistol now pressed against
the back of his head, there was nothing he could do. Clark
knew the old man’s life dangled by a thread gripped tightly by the hand of an
Imperialist. He knew that Wesley didn’t care about the old man, nor about the others. Wesley only wanted Clark
alive to use him as a means to find the rebel base in order to expose it to the
government.
“Okay,” Clark said. “I’ll lead
you to there as long as you spare them.”
Clark waited as Wesley considered the offer.
“Lay your weapon on the ground, Clark,”
Wesley said. “Slowly.”
Clark placed his rifle on the
ground.
Wesley gripped his gun tighter. “Now join the others.”
Clark grabbed the hand of the
woman he rescued from the concentration camp and walked towards the boys.
“Just know that I won’t feed them,” Wesley said. “I won’t give
any of them a single bite of my food.”
Clark didn’t want to push their luck by attempting to compromise
with Wesley. He knew it wouldn’t do them any good. All he could do was lead him
down south to the base and think of a plan along the way. To allow Wesley to
expose the base would be a major setback for the rebels, so he knew that his
promise to take him there would merely buy him time to think of a way to turn
the tables and reassume control.
“Start walking,” Wesley said to the group. He crouched down at
picked up Clark’s rifle.
The group walked ahead of the madman who now had the rifle
pointing at them. Clark looked back and saw
Wesley’s wicked smile as he stared at the woman.
“Turn around,” Wesley barked.
Clark did as instructed. He looked ahead into the forest and
heard their footsteps on the twig-littered ground accompanied by Wesley’s heavy
breathing behind them.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Wesley asked the woman, who by
now was barely able to walk from lack of sustenance.
The woman continued to walk and did not answer.
“Are you deaf?” Wesley asked. “Tell me your name now!”
She spoke with a firm voice. “Rebecca.”
Clark watched Rebecca out of the
corner of his eye. He knew she had to be strong for what she survived so far on
her horrendous journey. He saw her long brown hair that offset her pale skin,
covered with spots of dirt and blood. Though blood dripped from the back of her
legs as she walked, she did not slow her pace. She grimaced with every dozen or
so steps, but made no other indication that she was in pain.
“If you play your cards right, Rebecca,” Wesley said, “I’ll give
you something to eat.”
Clark shook his head. Filthy pig, he thought. Downright
rotten pig.
The group walked until they saw a clearing. The wind picked up
slightly and whipped through the trees. Clark stood at the tree line and looked
out at the large concrete-covered valley below to view something he hadn’t seen
in a long time: a department store. The sprawling parking lot was littered with
several abandoned cars, though no living soul could be seen.
Clark turned around to look at Wesley. “Maybe we should go check
it out.” Clark said. “We could use another break.”
Wesley aimed the rifle at Clark
and smiled. “I should kill you right now for saying such things. We do what I
say, and I say we need to keep walking.”
Clark put his hands up in the
air. “If you want to kill an unarmed man like the coward that you are, then do
it.”
“Maybe I’ll just kill one of them first…”
Clark stepped closer to Wesley
and heard the others back away and move behind him.
“You’ll have to get through me first, Wesley. As long as I’m alive, I won’t let
you lay a finger on them.”
Wesley stepped closer, keeping his aim. “Have you lost your mind,
Clark?”
Clark kept his hands raised.
“Not as much as you lost yours.”
* * *
Owen hastened his pace as he passed by the
concentration camp. He heard gunfire and screaming from the
Similar Books
