Chapter 16 - Good, Bad, Ugly

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      On the walk back, the wind picked up as tumbleweeds rolled through the trailer park. When they entered their new dwelling, the darkness filled every corner as the metal door closed behind them. A match struck and the glass from a lantern on the small kitchen counter illuminated Ingrid’s face. Clara immediately went for the couch and curled into a ball, closing her eyes, but Corbin couldn’t find the will for his feet to move.

“Ingrid...” he said. “What are you doing with The Hounds?”

“I could ask you the same. I hoped you were somewhere far away and safe.” She set the pot of soup on the stove and reached for a serving ladle. “They killed Stanley the night I helped you escape from the house, but they spared my brother-in-law, Judah. He’s somewhere in this camp with a few other prisoners.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok. He only had a few years left at the rate of his drinking.”

“Still. He was your husband.”

She gave a light shrug and began stirring the pot. “I was young when I met him and needed a home that didn’t require selling my body. He was a widow who needed someone to take care of him, and I grew to love him in my own way. Stanley took care of me the best he knew how but he could be cruel. You saw that.”

“And Isabelle?” Corbin asked as he crossed the small living room to the kitchen. “Is she safe here?”

“She’s a child. She’s surviving just like me and the leader of The Hounds is good to us,” she replied, causing Corbin’s stomach to slide into his boots. How could anyone find remarkable qualities in a man who sold people like animals? “Isabelle and I can roam the camp with none of his men touching us and he’s letting us stay in the spare bedroom of his trailer.”

“Ingrid...” Corbin swallowed. “He hasn’t forced himself on you, has he?”

“Didn’t I just say that we’re free here! No one touches us.”

“It might feel as if you’re free, but you’re not. If you were truly free, then you could leave this place.”

“I’m not being held against my will.”

Corbin’s brows lifted in surprise. “So you volunteered to be here?”

“Not exactly. It was stay behind in a home where Isabelle and I would be vulnerable to marauders or join the caravan as Merric’s servant. Plus...” She brought her eyes up to meet Corbin’s. “Stanley wasn’t Isabelle’s biological father. Judah is. Now, do you understand why I’m here?”

“Yes.” Corbin nodded. “So did Stanley know? is that why he was cruel to you?”

“No. Stanley was always cruel, but if he suspected something, he never said it. He loved Isabelle. He was his best around her.”

Corbin leaned against the counter. “You don’t have to explain.”

“I know I don’t.”

“Ingrid,” Corbin hesitated but cleared his throat and continued, “See that woman on the couch? Well, she’s like a sister to me and I need to get us out of here. Do you think you can help us?”

Ingrid shook her head back and forth in a stiff motion and continued stirring the pot. The aroma of chicken soup floated out with the steam rising, coaxing a gurgle from Corbin’s stomach. Yet, he pushed the hunger aside and forced Ingrid to face him as he took her chin in his palm.

“Please? Help us.”

“I’ve helped you before.” She shook her head again and shrugged away from him. “I can’t risk it again.”

“You’re not safe here, Ingrid. How long until Merric decides you’ll sell for a good price? Or worse. How long until his minion, Kyle, asks to ‘test drive’ Isabelle?”

Her eyes flashed to him. “How dare you say that? Isabelle is just a child!”

“Do you think these people care? Have you taken a good look outside and witnessed their behavior? These people are animals!”

“Is supper ready?” Millie asked in her scratchy voice, interrupting the conversation.

“About five more minutes, ok? I just need to portion it out.”

“Is everything alright, Ingrid?” Millie directed to Corbin and folded her arms.

“I’m fine, Millie,” she replied.

“You sure?”

“Could you give us a minute!” Corbin snapped.

Millie held up her hands with knitting needles between her fingers. “Just think you ought to step back a few paces. Wouldn’t want Merric catching a whiff of your man-smell on his new pet.”

“Listen, lady!”

“It’s Millie, but I suppose you youngsters aren’t taught manners these days.”

“Listen, Millie, she and I were in the middle of something important and--“

The metal trailer door swung open with a bang as a powerful gust of wind barreled its way inside. Kyle stood in the doorway, his jacket blowing about as he tried to keep his long, greasy hair out of his face. Behind him, the lawn chairs and table umbrellas surrounding the bonfire were on the verge of taking flight. Meanwhile, The Hounds and their guests raced for their respective trailers while dodging debris.

“Kyle, what’s going on out there?” Millie pointed a gnarled finger.

“The radio said a sand storm is approaching. Nothing to worry about, we just need to get Ingrid back to Merric’s trailer.”

“You’re not taking the soup back, are you?” Her eyes darted to the stove.

“No. But ration it out properly because if this storm doesn’t subside, that’s all you’ll have until it’s safe for Ingrid to come back.”

“Let’s hope it’s over by morning.” Millie glanced at Corbin, her lips sinking into her jowls with a frown as the door closed behind Ingrid. “A few weeks ago we were stranded in Southern Cali during a sand storm for three days. At least this time we have food.”

“They let you starve for three days?”

“Honey, they don’t care. The only thing that matter is if we can still witch for water.” She motioned for Corbin to follow her as she walked to the stove. “Now help me ration out soup for the night. We’ve got eighteen other mouths to feed. A half-cup each should be enough, for now.”

After serving the portions into styrofoam cups and placing them on a tray, Corbin followed Millie as she shuffled down the dark hallway. The floor creaked with each step and it felt colder as goosebumps emerged across his arms. Millie brought her sun-freckled hand up to the first door and knocked before pushing it open. Fingers of moonlight shone through the slits in the window blinds, providing enough illumination to see the state of the other witchers.

Two sets of bunk beds lined the walls, and between them were rows of sleeping bags. Most were sleeping, while others sat in silence with concave cheeks and dark circles under their eyes.

“Everyone, we have two new guests,” Millie announced and began passing out the cups. “They got picked up close to here.”

“Oh yeah?” one of them said as he glanced up from picking at a scab on his hand. He was young, perhaps only twenty, and with piercing blue eyes impossible to ignore. “Who was it that betrayed you?”

“Don’t know,” Corbin replied, and with the bit of moonlight spilling over the young man, his skin appeared silver like a vampire’s.

“Well, then you’re lucky because I wish I didn’t know. The one who betrayed me was my girlfriend.”

“You’re not starting with that sob story again, are you, Billy!?” another man complained.

“Oh, shut up!” Billy snapped. “At least I had a girl. Even if she looked me in the eyes each night—lying about how much she loved me, only to sell me out to The Hounds.”

“Oh cry me a river.”

“Boys, boys...” Millie tisked. “We’ve talked about all of us getting along. Now take your supper and calm down.”

After passing out the cups, they moved onto the next room where Corbin was met with more unfortunate witchers. Stale urine and body odor stung his eyes the moment he entered, while wrapping him like a warm embrace. They passed around the soup and rushed out to gulp down some fresh air while shutting the door behind them.

“They seem to think if they don’t shower then they won’t sell tomorrow at the auction. I don’t have the heart to tell them Merric has a team of people who will scrub them from head to toe come morning.”

“So you’ve witnessed an auction before?”

“This will be my third,” she sighed. “Now come on. Let’s finish passing these out.”

The last room was down the hallway and closest to the only bathroom in the trailer. Millie knocked softly and then entered. Unlike the last two rooms, this one had two full sized beds with one sleeping bag in the center of them. Millie nudged the sleeping witchers awake and as they sat up, their moth-eaten blankets slipped away from their bodies. It took a moment for Corbin to register what he was seeing, but when he did, he stepped back while gasping at the sight of them.

The third room was all women with swollen bellies of various sizes.

“I sleep in this room,” Millie said over her shoulder as she began passing out the soup. “Just in case one of them goes into labor, so I can be here to help them push.”

“You mean they’re not taken to the hospital?” Corbin’s glanced at one who looked ready to pop at any moment.

“Are you kidding me!” one of them scoffed, reaching for a cup of soup. “The Hounds put these monsters inside us. They don’t care how they come into the world as long as they’re half witcher.” she shook her head. “As if that’s how it works.”

“You shouldn’t call them monsters, Annie,” said another as she rubbed her medium-sized bump. “This baby might be part Hound but she is mine.”

Annie rolled her eyes. “Ramona, stop calling it a girl or you’ll become attached.”

“Hush, Annie!” Millie scolded.

Ignoring her, she continued, “You know they’re just going to rip that baby out of your arms and sell it. Might as well get used to the idea!”

Ramona’s mouth crumpled into a frown as her eyes darted to Millie. “She’s lying, isn’t she? They wouldn’t take my baby, would they?”

“Honey, just have a little soup and ignore anything that comes out of her mouth. Ok?” Millie said as she passed a cup to her.

“But Millie...”

“Shh, just ignore her, child. She’s just tired from being stuck inside this tin can all day.” Millie kissed the top of Ramona’s head and glared at Annie. “Be nice to each other. It’s the only way we survive. The enemy is out there. Not in here.”

After dismissing themselves, Corbin walked back to the living room and his eyes landed on Clara. If only the dust storm could postpone the auction? Give them time to plan an escape? Because selling witchers was one thing, but impregnating them to sell their babies was another.

Crouching next to Clara, he whispered, “I’m going to get you out of here. Even if I die trying. I promise you.”

***
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