Marital Law Page 20

  I'd only heard stories of the Badlands and of the people living there. Although living wouldn't exactly be the proper way of describing their existence. They were said to feast on other humans and on anything that entered their territory. Their leader, Caine, had earned the job by killing and eating the previous head of the group.

  Caine’s reputation was worse than Marcella Munford’s, but fortunately he didn't venture outside the Badlands. It was said that MOM had brokered a deal with him and his people, a deal that included human offerings, human sacrifices.

  The two monitors that had attacked us were about to wake up in a land where nightmares and demons walk hand in hand.

  ****

  “How exactly can we be of service to you, Ellen?” said the older gentleman in the group. He looked dangerously close to the age where he would soon be sent away.

  “We have to get word to Jeremiah and the others. Twenty monitors left late yesterday afternoon, headed for our hideout in the forest. Rumor is that Colin gave them the location,” Ellen said quickly.

  I looked on in shocked silence. Colin really had turned on his own people. I feared what he might do to me when we met again.

  “It’s too late. They’ve already taken the children from the forest and are on their way back to the Capitol as we speak,” said the woman.

  “Oh, no. No, no, no. I never should’ve left them. I thought I’d be able to stop her before this happened. It’s too late.”

  “It may not be, if my plan works,” said Ellen.

  “What plan?” I asked, my mind with the little girl with the scars, my friend.

  Turning to the older gentleman, Ellen asked to my surprise, “Can you hide Sidnie until MOM gives her next State of the Capitol address, tomorrow morning?”

  “What? No, we can't wait until tomorrow to strike Marcella Munford down. We have to do it now!” I said forcefully.

  “There's no way you are getting close enough to kill Marcella Munford,” Ellen said.

  “Then why did you bring me here? I thought these people were going to help us sneak up on her! If we wait, she will kill the children!”

  “I think a better move would be to issue her a formal challenge for battle during her address to the state tomorrow,” Ellen replied.

  “What? You really have lost your mind. I can't challenge the creator of the order, the highest authority in Providence.”

  “Actually, you can,” said the gentleman whose home we currently stood debating in.

  “What? How?” I asked, clearly not following him.

  Lying in the corner of the small home was a very old looking book. The man went over, retrieved it, and quickly flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for. “Here it is,” he said, pointing to an area and handing it over to me.

  I started reading where his finger was positioned: “Any citizen of Providence can challenge another citizen for their spouse. This includes members of the royal court, even the current ruler.” As I scanned the rest of the page, I noticed the signature of Beatrice Munford at the bottom of this law governing the citizens of Providence. Flipping through the rest of the book, I saw that it was a compilation of all Munford Laws. Since Beatrice was Marcella's grandmother, the one responsible for drafting the original laws governing the state, I knew it had to be true.

  Looking up from the book, I smiled at a revelation: Marcella was no different from the rest of us. She was subject to the same rules and regulations set in place decades ago by her grandmother.

  Chapter 27

  “Sounds to me like she will have to accept your challenge, or be disgraced in front of all Providence,” said the man.

  Just as I started to think I had my way in, I realized I didn't even have a clue as to whom Marcella Munford was wed. From what the dwellers had told me, she was married to numerous men. “Anyone know to whom Marcella Munford is wed?”

  “Marcus Gentry. He has been at her side for twenty years now, although I hear she can't stand to even look at him anymore. It's all for show. She has many others to tend to her needs,” Ellen said.

  “They will try to argue that I'm a traitor and as such, I gave up my rights as a citizen.”

  “When they do, we will claim Marcella is only using that as an out, because she doesn't believe she can beat you in battle. Her arrogance will be her downfall,” Ellen said.

  “The only question that remains is, can you beat her? I mean, with you being considered a traitor and all, it goes without saying that you'll be put to death if you don't,” said the old man.

  For the first time I wasn't sure. Physically, I felt I could take her, but the asthma had already failed me once.

  “Your hesitancy scares me,” Ellen said. “Maybe I should challenge her.”

  “You haven't trained or fought in over five years, cousin. I definitely don't think it's a good idea for you to step into the arena,” I said, in an effort to derail such thoughts.

  “Some things you never forget, Sidnie. Nonetheless, if you think you can best Marcella, then we will sneak you into the crowd and when she begins her message, you can issue the challenge,” the old man said.

  “I will defeat her! There is no other option,” I said. I just prayed I'd be able to keep my word.

  For the remainder of the afternoon, the old man and his family walked me through their plan to place me in the center of the crowd gathering for Marcella's message. Once we had all the details worked out, they offered me a portion of what little food they had, since Marcella had cut off their ability to trade.

  The family had managed to grow a few meager vegetables and cooked up a small stew with squirrel as the meat source. It was surprisingly very good, but I felt guilty for taking what little sustenance they had available. There were five people in their family, and they needed all the supply they could get.

  As I hung out with this family and got to see firsthand how Marcella Munford was starving them out, my anger grew, my resolve to beat her in battle did as well. I was still angry at how she’d done the same thing to Elisa as well.

  Remembering the woman from the Manumissionists tribe and all the grave markers from when I’d first went there with Colin, I asked if I could borrow the one and only bedroom in the home, so I could do some much needed thinking.

  Alone in the small space, I replayed everything I’d learned and seen from MOM over the course of my years, and I harnessed that anger, turning it into something I could use to take her down. I had to beat her, had to stop her from continuing to hurt others for her own sick gain. It took me awhile, but eventually I managed to convince myself that I’d be able to beat back the asthma, and this time come out victor in the arena. I replayed all the names I could remember from the headstones, and I vowed to make Marcella Munford pay for each and every one.

  All of a sudden, a loud warning siren roared through the primitive looking speaker stationed near the home I was currently planning the demise of Marcella Munford inside.

  “What's going on?” I did my best to yell above the blaring noise.

  The older gentleman reached out and grabbed my arm, “We have to move you quickly! That's the alarm warning everyone in the Capitol that we have an escapee—namely you.”

  Without hesitation, I allowed the man to guide me. Just a couple of weeks prior, I would've beaten any man, other than Caleb, for laying their hands on me. Their intent wouldn't have made a difference.

  The man led me out the backside of his house, and we all made a beeline for the woods. Just as I thought, here we go again, back into the forest, the man veered left and directed us towards an old rundown shed.

  The back half of the building was missing, open for all to peer inside. I started to think he'd tricked us, led us into a trap, because there was nothing there: no means of escape, no cache of weapons, nothing. Then, swiftly, the man wedged himself into the left side of the building, into some sort of hidden, narrow passageway.

  It dawned on me that everywhere I went lately, there were hidden passagew
ays. Life with MOM required we hide everything. Some freedom.

  Descending the stairs, I was instantly met with foul order, worse than anything I'd ever experienced. My stomach began to roil, and I did my best to cover my nose with the back of my hand. I imagined the stench penetrating through every fiber of my clothes, burrowing into me like a small tick. “What is...this place?” I managed to ask between shallow breaths.

  Ellen came up alongside me and said, “The Capitol sewer system.” Seeing my dumbfounded look, she added, “It's where the waste goes from the indoor swirly thing you flushed earlier.”

  Just as she said it, the man in front of us stepped down into some murky looking water, and I knew right away this was going to be a very bad day. “Are you serious? This is the only way?”

  The man stopped, turned back and said, “Trust me, there are hundreds of other places I'd rather be right now, but this is the only route the monitors won't think to look.”

  I was afraid to take in a full breath, while the gentleman leading us into the dungeon of bodily waste didn't appear to be struggling in the least. I wondered how many times he'd gone on this little adventure into the abyss of stench.

  As I tentatively placed my foot into the muck and mire, I cringed inwardly. I could feel the cold from the substances as I made my way deeper and deeper, until it covered the top of my knees. Even with my lack of personal hygiene from being locked away in the jail, I still smelled better than this nightmare.

  I tried not to look down, not to dwell on the dark floaters as they brushed against me. It was a terrible feeling, akin to having a snake slither its way across your back while bathing in the river. Yuck!

  The only sounds were from traipsing through the water, and my beating heart. For the next mile or so we didn't speak. I tried to imagine we were somewhere else, somewhere peaceful, and clean. I went back to my garden, the fresh, rich smell of the earth. If only...

  When the man turned left and headed towards the stairwell, I forgot my train of thought, and a smile came across my face. Relief soon flooded my heart. Never have I been so thankful to see stairs before in my life. I took them two at a time, and when we finally exited through the metal door at the top, my worry about being caught was the furthest thing from my mind.

  Ellen took the lead after the man closed the door. She took off at a very fast clip, in the direction of Capitol Headquarters. I started to pull her back, but then she veered right and led us into an alleyway behind the servant’s quarters.

  Slowing to a brisk walk, she went to the first door she came to and rapped lightly. The woman on the other end took one look at us and tried to slam the door in Ellen's face. It was then that I saw firsthand that my cousin hadn't lost her skills. With lightning speed, she reached around the door and clubbed the woman against the side of her head. Down the servant went, her eyes rolling back in her head.

  Guiding us towards the back of the kitchen, Ellen pushed aside a rather extensive selection of jackets and a large wooden bookshelf, and then proceeded to use her heel to kick through a portion of the drywall behind it. After mere minutes, she said, “You two get in there and don't make a sound until I come back for you.”

  The space was no more than twenty-four inches wide, so I immediately thought, I am going to have to smell not only myself, but this gentleman for who knows how long. This wasn't going to be fun. In the back of my mind, I worried my asthma might kick in as well. Tight spaces were a known trigger.

  The man went inside first and I immediately followed. I did my best to suck everything in, but the meal I'd just ate prior to our little excursion into the crap tank made this task a lot harder than I thought it would.

  The man and I were back to back, our buttocks touching. I'm certain he was just as uncomfortable as me about the living arrangement.

  We could hear Ellen cleaning up our tracks, and I caught the smell of some sort of perfume, which I assumed was her effort to mask our stench.

  Fifteen, of the longest minutes of my life, into our little packing experiment, my asthma started to act up. In addition, I began to hear voices moving near us. They were barking orders, and I knew right away it was the monitors.

  Panic tried to engulf me, and in my mind, I saw exactly how this would play out: I'd come busting out of the wall at exactly the same time they came into the room and they'd lock me away until Colin was forced to take my life.

  A sense of peace suddenly overcame me, and a few phrases I'd heard while speaking with the older woman at the Manumissionists’ camp began to replay inside my head. She had said, “He can heal someone's physical and spiritual wounds, if we believe in him and call upon his name.”

  I pondered this Creator the woman had spoken of, this Jesus. Was it possible? Could he heal me of my asthma? Realizing my body was no longer in shutdown mode, in preparation of another attack, I decided to give it a try. I silently mumbled for healing, feeling a little silly, but hopeful enough to give it a shot.

  A peace suddenly came over me, and my body began to relax. Weariness settled in shortly thereafter. My eyelids felt heavy and holding them up made me feel like I was bending hardened steel. Sleep overtook me, and I did nothing to stop it.

  The sound of something skidding across the floor caused me to stir, and then I heard the man say, “It's time to wake up now, sleepyhead. Ellen is coming.”

  “Sorry, I must've dozed off. I can't believe I was able to fall sleep. How long was I out?”

  “Not long. Maybe fifteen minutes. But you were definitely out. I had to nudge you numerous times to break up your snoring,” said the gentleman sharing my tight confines.

  “Oh, no! Sorry,” I offered, feeling a little embarrassed.

  “You had me worried at first. You were tense and I feared you would give away our location. You afraid of tight spaces or what?” whispered the man.

  “Asthmatic. Have been since I was a little kid,” I said, but I couldn't help but celebrate my small victory inside. At least I hadn't given our location away, and in turn, sealed my fate and everyone whom I'd encountered here at the Capitol.

  “Shh! I can hear you two all the way out into the kitchen,” Ellen said, as she pushed the cabinet aside and assisted us in getting out of the wall coffin.

  “Are they all gone?” I asked tentatively.

  “For now. But we must get you cleaned up and ready for Marcella's address. The fun begins in a little over two hours. There's no way we'd be able to sneak you into the midst of the crowd smelling like you do.” Ellen said as she pulled me free of the hole in the wall.

  Following close on her heels, I did my best not to further dirty up Ellen's area of responsibility. Fortunately—or not—my time inside the wall had dried the waste to me and not much fell from my body as I walked.

  Ellen guided us in front of a room to the left of the kitchen, and after checking for others, pulled us inside and closed the door. After telling the man to keep watch over the door, she then took me into another room at the back of this one and said, “I have to warn you beforehand that this is some of the coldest water you've ever felt.”

  Looking down, I could see a small drain in the floor beneath me, and when Ellen picked up the rubber hose and turned the knob, I began to understand what she was talking about. A cold blast of water came at me, pelting my legs and working upward. I could see the funk from my body exit through the drain, and it was disgusting.

  I'm not sure where the Capitol got their water from, but I'd bathed in the river during the latter part of November, and I couldn’t recall it ever being this cold. When she shut off the valve, I was relieved, thinking it finally over.

  Ellen made her way closer, handed me a bar of soap and said, “Go ahead and strip, lather up your body, and I'll do a final rinse.”

  “What? Is the hose down you just gave me enough?”

  “Hardly. That was just so I wouldn’t have to touch your filthy clothes when I go to toss them into the trash.”

  “Ah, I see. More fun for me.” It wasn't the
thought of being naked in front of my cousin that got me, it was having to endure the water again. I was already shivering all over from the first go around.

  Slowly, I peeled the wet clothes from my body and tossed them in the corner. After rubbing the soap all over, even in my hair, I braced for another go at it. When the water hit, this time it wasn't as bad.

  Satisfied with her torture of me, Ellen once again closed the valve and threw a towel my way. “Dry off, and I'll go grab you some clothes.”

  Noticing the mirror above the sink, I actually took a minute or two to look at myself, for the first time in quite a while. My long blonde hair looked like a rat’s nest, and I had dark circles under my eyes that made me look like a raccoon. I could see my ribcage clearly from not eating the best during my incarceration inside the Capitol prison. I looked pale, sickly.

  I dried at about the same time Ellen reappeared and handed me a newer pair of jeans and a nice looking top. I'd seen a few people in faded out, holey jeans, but never new ones. “Where did you get these?” I asked holding them up.

  “MOM has stocks of just about everything thought lost during the war. She just doesn't like to share.”

  Having worn nothing but various hand me downs for all my life, I wasn't sure I'd like the feel of these never-before-worn clothes. Still, I slid my legs into the jeans and pulled the top over my head and couldn't help but smile at the way they fit.

  After another glance in the mirror, I was surprised at how it completely changed the way I looked. It actually made me feel better about myself, about my overall appearance. I was not myself, and I began to wonder if this new me might be better than the old.

  Chapter 28

  “There’s something you need to see, before we head outside to face Marcella,” Ellen said, the seriousness of her tone not lost on me.

  “What is it?” I asked, as I watched Ellen go into a small closet, remove a piece of wood covering the floor and bring a small book over for me to view.