Blood Red Road

back, all startled. Then she sees what I’m lookin at. Stretches her mouth into a mean, thin lipped smile. Oh, she says, I see yer admirin my new necklace. I found it lyin around. Ain’t it amazin how careless people is with their valuables?
    I glare hate at her. Pull on my chains, my fists clenched.
    Careful now, beauty, she says. She lifts the razor in her hand an looks over at Emmi.
    I slump back.
    She reaches out. Grabs my hair. Then she goes on shavin my head till I ain’t gone none left. Till I’m completely bald.

    They set Emmi free an put her to work, scrubbin the floor, haulin water an washin the dishes an pots. All the dirty work they don’t wanna do theirselves.
    An jest to make sure I unnerstand the way things is, that she means what she says, Miz Pinch hits Em when she catches her speakin to me or when she don’t move quick enough. Hits her over the head, pinches her on the arm. Once, she sticks out her foot an trips her while she’s carryin a bucket of water an then she hits her when it spills.
    Em jest picks herself up an keeps workin. She don’t make a sound.
    Neether do I. But my hands curl into fists an my nails dig into my palms so hard that they bleed.
    We travel with the wind. Stoppin when it rests, movin when it blows. But it rests more’n it blows. I only git glimpses of daylight or moonlight when the Pinches come an go outta the cabin. I ain’t got a clue how many days have passed an nor does Em. Feels like we’ve bin here ferever.
    Emmi’s face gits more pinched an pale. An she weeps silently at night.
    They feed me all the best food. They want me to be strong.
    I spend my time sittin on my bunk. I’m shackled hand an foot an chained to the wall fer good measure. Miz Pinch sets me free three times a day to stretch my arms an legs, but only inside the hut. While I do, she holds a knife to Emmi’s throat.
    But not jest any knife. My knife. The one I keep shoved down inside my boot sheath. The one she took offa me. Miz Pinch smiles, tauntin me, provokin me. Go on, that smile says, jest try it. Try it an see what happens. She’d like that. To hurt Em with my knife.
    So I’m free but I cain’t do a thing.
    I don’t let my face show what I’m thinkin. Don’t let her see the hate that burns in my heart. The rage that gnaws at my gut. I keep my face blank.
    I watch her. I watch him.
    I wait fer the right moment.
    If the wind blows us fair, tomorrow we’ll be in Hopetown.

HOPETOWN

R OOSTER P INCH THROWS ANCHOR ON THE D ESERT S WAN jest outside Hopetown.
    Miz Pinch unties me an jerks her head.
    I follow her, shufflin onto deck in my ankle an wrist chains. I stand there, blinkin in the bright daylight. I feel dazed. I ain’t bin outside the dark cramped hut since they snatched us. Must be five, six days ago now. I squint at the sun. High noon.
    Hopetown spreads out in front of us, half a league away. It squats at the foot of a dusty hill an straggles up its slopes. I ain’t never seen more’n one shanty at a time before. Heard tell of how Wreckers lived, all crammed close together in cities an towns, but never thought I’d see such a place.
    An it never crossed my mind that if I did see such a place, it wouldn’t be nuthin more’n a heap of ramshack shanties leanin one aginst th’other. It looks like the whole lot ’ud come tumblin down if you gave one a good kick.
    What a fine sight! says Pinch. Nothing like the hurly burly of city life to gladden the heart!
    There’s commotion all around us. Folks rattle past the Swan in clouds of dust, in carts pulled by fierce-lookin wolfdogs, on horseback, by mule an camel, on foot. They flow in an outta a big gate in the junk palisade that runs all around Hopetown. I ain’t never seen so many people before in my life. I look this way an that, tryin to take it all in.
    Emmi’s standin next to me. The Pinches ain’t lookin. I lift my chained hands an she slips unnerneath. She wraps her arms around my waist an gives me a fierce hug. The Pinches keep her workin so hard, she’s even scrawnier’n usual.
    This is it, I says. Hopetown.
    What’s gonna happen now? she whispers.
    I dunno, I says. We’ll find out soon enough, I reckon. Whatever happens, keep yer eyes peeled fer Lugh.
    Jest then, a familiar caw caw caw rings out. I look up. A big black bird circles, high above. I’d know that wingspan anywhere.
    Nero! I says. He swoops down, buzzes jest over our heads, then soars on up agin. My heart soars with him. Tears spring to my