When We Shed Civilization

Chapter 13

His eyes were still on her.

What was he waiting for?

Her hands balled into fists, she got up. "What are you staring at?" She wanted this to be over now and done with. "Do... your thing and let me go! Vent your manly needs."

Why couldn't these apes leave Burt and her alone? Why wouldn't they just die out here, end their senseless lives in squalor and poverty?

He snatched the cup from her hands and pointed at her. "Listen, girl! Don't order me around. Go on being a pain, I'll kick you out and send you back to Hammer. And let me tell you one thing." He took a step closer and placed the finger against her breastbone. "You wouldn't want that." He gave her a shove, which made her sit down on the chair once more.

"And now," he continued, "just shut your mouth. I only took you up here to get you away from Hammer. Out of pity... In an hour, I'll take you back. And until then, you'll sit here, nice and quiet. And you don't touch anything." He gestured at the wardrobe.

With that, he turned and left, slamming the door behind him.

She made a fist.

Out of pity, he had said.

She didn't need this caveman's pity.

And she would never obey him.

Fuming, she rose and moved to the door he had walked out through. She would let him know that she wasn't to be treated like that—not by the likes of him.

About to push the handle and storm the room beyond, the pressure of the knife hidden in her skirt stopped her.

She pulled it from her skirt. Just a table knife, its short blade lacked a proper point. But its edge was sharp enough to scratch her skin.

Not much of a weapon, but it was better than nothing. And it was a tool.

She turned and stepped to the other door, the one they had entered through. The one he had locked.

The blade slid easily into the small gap between the panel and its frame. She moved it up and down, searching for the latch. But there was no resistance.

The lock must be beyond reach.

Frustrated, she used the knife as a lever, titling it. It came free, splintering wood off the edge of the frame.

The knife's blade stood at an angle to the hilt now. But the door was still locked.

Cursing silently, she paced the room.

Still trapped.

She stopped at the bed and picked up the teddy bear. Its fur was rough and brittle, and its one-eyed stare reproachful. She tossed the toy back and peeked under the bed. Motes of dust danced in the air she had stirred up, and a black bug scuttled away.

She studied her surroundings once more. Bare and boring, they held nothing of interest.

The wardrobe.

He had told her not to touch it.

All the more reason to do it.

She searched its shelves once more, using her unbound arms to explore deeper, sifting through the clothes, odd toys, and broken machines. At the very back of the top shelf—standing on her toes—her fingers found a small box, the size of her fist.

Its surface was soft, stuffed, and covered by a shining red textile. She unloosened the tiny latch and snapped the lid open.

Two golden rings nested inside, held in a slit of black velvet.

Leo had been married. Hammer had mentioned it.

His wife had died, and they blamed Seaside for it.

Silently, she shut the box and put it back.

As she closed the wardrobe's doors, a wave of fatigue washed through her. She sat down at the table.

Its dark, wooden surface was scratched and pitted but scrubbed clean. She moved a finger along it, feeling its texture—roughed by the use of generations.

The gangers were brutes and primitives but still human.

And that's what made them dangerous.

Clenching her hand into a first, she took a deep breath.

She had to get out of here. Get to Burt, set him free, and run. Or they'd be used as hostages, to be traded for weapons. Weapons that would be turned against Seaside.

She couldn't let that happen.

For a while, she sat there, racking her brain for a way to escape, but she drew a blank.

The only insight she gained was that she was still thirsty, and Leo had a pitcher of water.

Sighing, she got up again and went to the door next to the wardrobe.

What was behind it? What would be so important to leave a prisoner without a proper guard? To ignore her?

She listened.

Someone talked on the other side. The voice sounded like Leo's, but it was too soft to decipher. And then came a reply, almost a whisper.

Curious, she placed her hand on the handle and pushed.