Captive Read online

After Mamma died, Daddy started drinking every night until he’d finally pass out on the couch or go to his own room to sleep it off. That was bad enough until Braxton found Jesus and became a traveling evangelist. Now my brother hounded him until Daddy either staggered off to his bedroom early or punched him in the face, depending on what kind of a day it’d been. Braxton, of course, would always turn the other cheek. The whole thing made me sick.

  “I know you’re hurtin, but Jesus can take that pain away,” my brother said.

  I couldn’t figure out why he was so bound and determined to badger our father to death.

  “Shut up, Braxton.” Daddy’s voice tightened, and from the sound of it, this was going to be a punch in the face kind of night.

  I crept to my door and turned the lock even though I knew they wouldn’t come up here. Still it made me feel less likely to get caught as I slipped back to my window and raised it. I tiptoed across the roof to the sweet gum tree that grew at the corner of the house.

  “I love you, Daddy...” I heard Braxton say as my bare feet touched the damp earth. I took off running before the first punch was thrown.

  Running helped ease the pressure in my chest, and by the time I was at Jackson’s house, I was calm. I pulled myself up through the oak tree until I was at his window. It slid out of my hands when I leaned forward to lift it, and Jackson’s face smiled at me through the dark opening.

  “At it again?” His soft tenor erased all the pain.

  I nodded, letting him help me into his room. We went over and curled up together in his twin bed, his arm encircling my waist.

  “Your brother is some kind of persistent.” Jackson’s voice was at my ear, warming me and sending little tingles under my skin.

  “He just worries about Daddy.”

  “My daddy ever waled on me like that, I’d be out of here.”

  Jackson rolled onto his back, and I rolled toward him, laying my head on his chest and listening to his heartbeat. I’d been running to Jackson’s house to spend the night since seventh grade. That was when things really started getting bad at home.

  “When we build our own place, I want to have windows on the ceiling,” Jackson said, gesturing with one arm as the fingers of his other hand combed through my stringy hair. “It’ll be like we’re sleeping under the stars.”

  “Daddy said I got to get a job. Start pulling my own weight.”

  “Your daddy don’t remember half the shit he says.” He rubbed my back. “’sides. You’re only fifteen.”

  “Still, if we’re going to have some fancy house with windows on the ceiling, I probably ought to know how to do something.” I propped up on my elbow so I could see his face. “I thought maybe I’d be a doctor. I like giving shots.”

  “Doctors don’t give shots. Nurses do that.”

  “Nurses change bedpans.”

  He grinned and leaned forward, kissing my lips lightly. I dropped down onto my side and turned my back to him. Lately, my body had started responding differently when Jackson kissed me—a new warmth, low in my stomach, made my heart beat a little faster. Also, lately Jackson had become more interested in pursuing that reaction, sliding his hands places I knew Braxton and Pastor LeRoy would have a big problem with. I lay on my side and squeezed my thighs together, but that only made it worse.

  “Why you want to be a doctor anyway?” He moved around behind me, circling my waist with his arm again. His breath tickled my neck when he spoke. “I thought you were going to stay with me.”

  “I could stay with you and still be a doctor.”

  “Nah, you’d be rich, and then you’d get out of here.”

  The way he spoke, it sounded like he’d decided to make my dream his. But that didn’t make sense. Jackson loved the farm.

  “I’ll never leave you. I love it here, and I love our farm.”

  “It’s not ours yet.” He leaned back again. “But you’re just a little country girl. Emphasis on the little. Who’s gonna go to a midget doctor?”

  The familiar tease was in his voice, and I jerked my arm back into his stomach, causing him to grunt a laugh.

  “A redneck midget,” he said, and I did it again. He laughed more. “And a girl on top of it.”

  “I can do whatever I want to do.”

  “I know.” He whispered against my neck before he kissed it.

  I felt his hand slide to the edge of my shirt, but I slid mine over his and laced our fingers, pulling his arm around my waist.

  “I just want to sleep now.”

  He exhaled and squeezed me against him. I squeezed back.

  Tears were in my eyes, but I blinked them away. I could still feel his rough, callused hands gripping my small ones as I sat stupidly, trying not to cry, my back against a pine tree. I didn’t know how long I’d been sitting in this one spot.

  We’d been released into the yard after breakfast, but moving felt like too much effort now. Maybe it was the heat or the stress, but my entire body was so heavy, I could only sit and stare at nothing but memories.

  I tried to shake myself out of it. If we were going to escape from here, I had to get up and stop wasting time. I had to stake out the perimeter, scan the area before they started us all working tomorrow. Now could be my only chance.

  I looked up and saw D’Lo across the yard. His massive frame leaned against one of the buildings in the shade, and he seemed to be sleeping. My eyes cut quickly left to right, but the armed guards didn’t seem to be watching us too closely. I guess they didn’t need to if they had guns. I got up and tried to walk casually to where Dee sat, but even walking was hard, like wading through thigh-deep water.

  I was lucky D’Lo was here. He’d be a huge help, both with escape and with finding his best friend. Dee’s family had been with Jackson’s for years, sharecropping and working on Mr. Terry’s farm. Everybody in Dabb Creek was dirt poor, but Jackson’s daddy had built up the largest farm in our area, a good hundred acres. Jackson was set to take over it all once Mr. Terry retired. I didn’t know what would happen now, if things like that still mattered once everything was gone.

  When I finally reached him, I pulled his arm, and he slowly turned his head. His eyes moved around my face, but he acted like he didn’t know me. My throat tightened and panic started to rise again. D’Lo didn’t seem numb so much as vacant, missing, and he looked at me like I was some mysterious elf trying to get his attention.

  “Did they hurt you?” I whispered, but he didn’t answer.

  His gaze slid back to the yard, and I wondered if they did something different to big guys like him, something more physical to keep them under control. It wouldn’t take much for D’Lo to overpower at least one of our captors, possibly two, and I remembered how Dr. Green handled aggressive bulls.

  No. I couldn’t believe that. The guards could easily stop him with a bullet—there was no need to castrate him. I shuddered at the thought.

  “D’Lo, it’s me!” My voice inched louder. “Prentiss.”

  He’d turned back to stare out at nothing, so I jerked his arm again. It didn’t do any good.

  “Prentiss?” I repeated.

  Nothing.

  “Midget? Pip? Spitfire? Pain in the—” I was running out of names. And still there was no flicker of recognition. I dropped my hand and exhaled. “What have they done to you?”

  Then I slid down to sitting with my knees bent and my forehead resting on my arms. Once more, tears threatened, but I wouldn’t let myself cry. I was strong. If I had to, I supposed I could do this alone, but it sure would help to have some muscle on my side.

  “Prentiss,” he said in a weird, dreamy voice.

  I jumped up beside him, my heart beating faster. “Yeah?”

  “Pretty little Prentiss... Jackson’s pretty little thing.”

  My face grew hot at those words.

  “Sweet little—”

  “D’Lo!” I cut him off. “What in the world? You’ve lost your mind!”

  He shook his head and smiled. Now he recog
nized me too much. Or more like he didn’t remember how we knew each other. Dee and I’d never been close that way.

  “It’s me. Jackson’s girlfriend.” I added that last bit to remind him of the facts.

  Still, he looked at me and smiled like I was someone dear and not the tiny person he lived to hassle. Good lord.

  I pulled down hard on his arm trying to get him back to reality, and he slid with me to the ground with his back against the shed. Sitting, my shoulder didn’t reach his armpit, so I pushed up, into a crouch.

  “We gotta get out of here,” I said, looking away so my words were hidden near his face. He didn’t respond. “You hear me?”

  He didn’t answer, and when I leaned forward, I saw his eyes were closed again.

  Dammit! I chewed my lip, but at least he knew me. That was a start. I took a deep breath and stood, forcing myself to think as I re-crossed the yard. I’d just reached the small grove of trees in the center, when the tiny hairs on the back of my neck rose. Someone was following me.

  The grass swished footsteps that weren’t mine, and my heart did its best to speed up against the drugs. I grabbed one of the thin trunks, and used it to pull my sluggish body so my back was to it.

  “What do you want?” I snapped, when the male figure appeared.

  “Whoa!” The guy pulled up short, and I saw he wore the same grey coveralls as the rest of us prisoners. He looked my brother’s age, early twenties, but he was a stranger.

  “You’re not from Dabb Creek.” My voice was a hiss.

  His eyes went quickly back and forth then he stepped in close, hiding himself in the grove with me. I pushed further back, trying to keep some space between us. Even if I couldn’t get my emotions to act right, my brain knew to be on guard.

  “Why are you following me?”

  He looked straight in my eyes. “You’re trying to escape.”

  His irises were normal, but my mamma didn’t raise no dummies. “I’m not doing anything.”

  “Not all of the guards carry guns.” He looked over his shoulder, keeping his voice low. “They could still have weapons strapped to their legs or hidden in their clothes, but if we work together—”

  “Who are you?”

  After a little pause, he took a breath and started over. “Name’s Cleve. I was hitching through the area when everything went black. Next I know, I’m waking up here, and everybody’s gone stupid. Except you.”

  “Where you from?”

  “Meridian.”

  Mississippi or not, I wasn’t anywhere near ready to trust this guy. “Kind of far from home, aren’t you?”

  He exhaled, and studied his boots. “I was headed for the coast. Heard there’s work in construction down in Alabama.”

  Chewing my lip, I considered him. He was tall, maybe six foot with copperish skin and hair. Hazel eyes lit with the same determination I knew I felt, behind the haze of chloroform.

  “What are you suggesting we do?”

  He almost smiled then. “Looks like this is an old summer camp or something. You’ve got the dining hall up there, and further down the hill, hidden in those trees are small cabins. I think that’s where they sleep.”

  “You got a plan or something?” I’d seen everything he described, but I didn’t see how it mattered. Their cabins were opposite from where we all slept, with the dining hall, a medium-sized garden, and a large barn in the center.

  “Not yet.” Cleve looked all around the perimeter the same way I did.

  The blonde, general-lady appeared then entered one of the cabins farthest away. I figured that was hers. Cleve took a step back in the growing heat. The air was damp, and without air-conditioning, it wouldn’t be long before it was like an oven out here.

  “Look at the top of those trees.” He pointed to a bird that seemed to be sitting in mid-air.

  I held the front of my jumpsuit and pulled it in and out quickly to circulate the air next to my body as I squinted up. The bird swayed in the scant breeze, and I saw the glint of chicken-wire fencing. It was tall and stretched high.

  “That’s the fence.” He exhaled and shook his head. “It’s smart. The holes are too small for us to climb it, and if we try to bust through, we’ll just get all wound up in it.”

  “It’s metal, so we can’t break it without a tool.” My eyes traveled to the ground. “Maybe we can dig under it? At night or something?”

  “Depends on how close we’re being watched. And how hard the earth is packed. We need a tool. It’s not easy to dig a hole.”

  I wondered what Jackson would say to this guy. His words were right, but I still hesitated. The Band-Aid pulled at my arm, and I remembered the shot. Cleve must’ve got a lower dose than me. He was way more alert than anybody else here. Maybe his body metabolized the anesthesia faster?

  Two guards stepped out of the barn, and both of them looked at us. “We’ll talk more later,” he barely spoke.

  I shoved my hands in my pockets and resumed my path across the yard. Braxton sat alone on the grass, so I headed in his direction. He could help me decide whether to trust this guy. Roxy, another girl I knew from school, braided Yolanda’s hair as I passed, but we didn’t speak. None of them ever paid any attention to me.

  When my brother saw me coming, he pushed himself off the ground and caught me in a long hug. “You’re here, praise the Lord!”

  His body trembled, and he kept holding onto me until I pushed out of his arms. His face was wrinkled in anguish, and he seemed genuinely terrified.

  “What’s happening, Brax?”

  Calloused hands slid through his dark hair, and it looked like he’d been crying. “Judgment, Prentiss. It’s the end of days.”

  “Nah,” I shook my head. “You’d be gone if it was the Rapture. More like World War Three. We’ve been invaded or something. Taken over by the Russians.”

  “The Russians don’t want to invade us.”

  “Sure they do. They probably teamed up with China or North Korea like Daddy said.”

  Glancing around behind me, I didn’t see where Cleve had gone. The soldiers by the barn had also disappeared, but I guessed since everyone had found a place to fall asleep, they didn’t think they needed to watch us too close.

  Or maybe they were watching us, and we couldn’t see them. Maybe they were studying us, deciding which of us to use as an example of how they dealt with rebels “swiftly and finally” like the leader-woman said.

  My throat knotted when I remembered Cleve’s greeting. He knew I was trying to escape. Did they know, too?

  “We’ve got to get out of here,” I whispered. “A fella named Cleve, a drifter from Meridian’s got some ideas. I’m going to talk to him, and you’re going with me.”

  My brother took my hand and led me over to sit with him. I slid the zipper on the front of my heavy coveralls all the way down to let in more air. It was okay because I had on a white tank under it.

  “When a nation turns its back on God, it’s just a matter of time before the end comes,” Braxton said.

  I pressed my lips together. “We don’t have time for fire and brimstone. This is about escape.”

  “How? We have no weapons, and if it’s the end, it doesn’t matter. We just have to wait for the last battle.”

  That made my blood grow hot, and weariness aside, I was ready to fight. “This isn’t God, Braxton, and we can’t let them win.” My brother’s surrender fueled my resistance. “Jackson’s out there. I know he is, and I’m going to find him. Dabb Creek is so hidden, the Army probably won’t get here for a while, so we have to do our part. Fight for our freedom and everything. Like good Americans.”

  “With what?”

  Rubbing my forehead, I pushed my stringy hair behind my ears hard. Anger burned under my skin. First D’Lo was useless and now Braxton was flaking out on me.

  My evangelist-brother’s fiery preaching allowed him to handle snakes and cast out devils, but when it came to fighting real people, he went all “God’s will” on me. Only a to
tal stranger stood ready to help me.

  “What about Daddy?” I reached for his hand, knowing our father was his soft spot. “Wouldn’t God want us to try and save him?”

  He shook his head, brown eyes meeting mine. “I’ve done all I can to help him. First there’s sin, then comes the judgment. All we can do now is pray.”

  He leaned his head back against the tree and closed his eyes. I watched his lips start to move in a whispered stutter, and I knew he was speaking in tongues.

  My lips tightened, and I nearly cussed. Instead, I looked at the grass in front of me. Braxton and I’d never seen eye to eye when it came to much of anything, life or religion, and I didn’t even try to talk to my drunk daddy. He’d been good for nothing since Mamma died. The only one I’d ever been able to count on was Jackson, and he was MIA.

  I pulled my knees to my chest thinking about Cleve. What good would it do him to betray me? We were all stuck here together no matter what happened. I had to give him a chance. Fear tightened my throat, and I mentally said my own prayer, a prayer to show me the way. I clenched all my muscles as hard as I could, hoping that might push my words to the front of God’s line. I needed an answer, and I needed it fast.

  More than that, I needed Jackson. I needed to know he was alive, waiting for me or better yet, searching for me. I needed to know we’d survive this and have our farm. My life was supposed to get better once I graduated high school. I’d counted every day waiting for it to happen. It was all I had, and I wouldn’t give up on it.

  Tears stung my eyes, but I fought them back. I had to believe. I’d trust Cleve, and we’d work together. We’d get everybody back to where the only thing we had to worry about was beating the Mississippi heat. We’d watch and think and make a plan. And I guessed praying about it couldn’t hurt.

  Chapter 3

  Jackson’s hands covered mine. “Hold it like this, Pip.”

  It was a blazing-hot August day. The air rested on us like a wet rag, and Jackson’s arms braced mine straight as he positioned my grip around the shiny silver pistol. He sneaked it out of his daddy’s truck, and we were by ourselves in the woods past the backfields.