Raph backed up and his shell struck Leo's. Raph looked over his shoulder and saw that there were as many men behind him as there was in front of him.
The cock of a shot gun told Raph that Donny had managed to reload. Blood dripped from the former saloon owner turned outlaw's shoulder but it wasn't enough to take him out of the fight.
Raph wasn't sure how many rounds, Leo and Mikey had left in their revolvers. He just hoped it was enough to give them a fighting chance. Raph hated guns. Something about having three bullet holes in his plastron turned him off to them.
While his three companions were armed with guns, Raph had nothing more than a Bullwhip. Now granted he was quite talented with the Bullwhip. He could snap a cigarette out of a man's mouth or the flesh from his back, depending on his mood. But a Bullwhip was no match for… Raph never learned to count that high… so many guns.
Leave it to that low life coward, Saki, to hide behind Hun and his small army of bandits. Those two men had been a thorn in Raph's side for far too long. The law wasn't nice to natives when it came to disputes with rich settlers but Raph planned on taking care of them once and for all.
Chancing another glance behind him to look at the turtles he had come to love despite himself, he felt a knot form in his stomach at the thought of losing them. He had lost too many people he had loved in his life and he'd be damned if he was going to lose them too. At least not before he had the chance to tell him how he really felt.
He was tired and all he wanted to do was settle down. All he had known in life was loss and he was getting sick of it. His first memory was of loss.
Among the turtle tribes the females were outnumbered by about four to one, so they tended to take more than one mate. It was common to keep all of the eggs in a nursery and the children who hatched were raised by the tribe as a whole. There was no fear of inbreeding because they instinctively stayed away from those who were closely related to them through smell.
But there was one who needed an heir.
The Chief selected his mate and she stayed with him, alone, for the time of her cycle then one egg was selected while the others were placed in the nursery. The one egg was intended to be the next chief, whether it was male or female.
It had been their way for many generations, and then the settlers came. Life became hard for the tribes; the settlers were taking the land by force and the tribes' numbers were dwindling. Some tribes were forced to join together or take in the refugees of decimated tribes.
The land they were forced to settle was difficult to farm and had little game. Many of the eggs in the nursery did not hatch as a result of poor nutrition of the mother.
To make matters worse, the turtle tribes were being pushed closer to the snapper tribes. The snappers were a brutal people, even more so than those who were taking the turtles' land. They murdered and enslaved the turtles or any who crossed their path.
The tribe was moving west, forced off their land by the settlers and their government. They pushed themselves to make it through the rough terrain in hopes of reaching a better place to settle. But even in their urgency they had to rest.
The snappers came in the night. They didn't even try to sneak in, instead announcing their presents by whooping and hollering as they charged into the camp.
The turtle males tried to protect their females and children but they were no match for the larger snappers. All males who were deemed too strong or too old were killed while the young and females were taken to be slaves.
The chief lied dead in a pool of blood with his young son clutching to his painted carapace. A large snapper looked down at the would be chief then lifted they crying youth away from the corpse. He said something as he carried the young turtle away but there was a language barrier and the child did not understand.
He was kept apart from the others, like a special prize or a trophy. He was placed in a cart that was filled with items and noticed that only the best items made it into the cart with him.
Once they got to the snapper village, the child was handed to a large, painted snapper who could only be the chief. He was then given to the chief's son, who was considerably older than he was. He grinned down at the young turtle and spoke, but again the young turtle did not understand. The young snapper hit the turtle and repeated what he had said as the chief looked on and laughed.
"I do not understand," the turtle cried, holding his cheek.
The young snapper pressed his hand to his plastron and said something that sounded a little like the word Slash, only it was heavily accented. He the gestured to the young turtle and waited.
The young turtle thought for a moment then said, "Raphael."
It was strange hearing his name repeated back to him by the snapper and hurtful to hear the laughter that followed. It was his father's name and it was his father's before that; every chief in the tribe was named Raphael. It was a name of honor.
Slash's laughter calmed and he made a remark before he grabbed Raphael and dragged him into a tent then placed him in a wooden box. To make it worse, Slash closed a lid and locked Raph inside. Panic filled the small turtle as he desperately tried to open the box.
Slash slammed his fist down on the lid and yelled something, causing Raphael to freeze. He didn't have to understand what was said to hear the threat behind it.
As he settled down in the box, Raph could hear the cries of the other children and the screams of the women. They were his people and there was nothing he could do to help them.
Raphael had been a slave for the majority of his life and he barely remembered his pampered life as the chief's son. He served the son of the snapper chief, Slash, who lived up to his name, like most snappers did. He was as ruthless as they came, killing passing settlers as they journeyed across the land in hopes of a better life.
He liked the fur of some and kept them as trophies, taking a particular fondness to rabbits. He had a blanket on his bed that was made from the hides of a family of rabbits who were unfortunate enough to pass too close.
Though there was enough plush fur to be spared, Raphael spent his nights tucked inside a locked box and slept on the hard wood. He didn't think he would be able to sleep on the carcass of an innocent, no matter how plush. He tried to avoid walking on the ones Slash used for rugs and Slash found it amusing.
Every night the box was locked and in the morning Slash would let him out to work. There were days where Slash wouldn't let Raph out until midday; usually after a night of heavy drinking and forceful sex with a slave. Raph would emerge to see the traumatized slave lying on the bed and would be ordered to take them out of the room.
What frightened Raph most of all, was that Slash favored the male slaves, though Slash never seemed to hold any interest in Raph. All the slaves he took to his bed were older than Raph, lulling him into a false sense of security. Until one day when he was only fifteen.
He had noticed the way Slash had been looking at him over the course of the week and he knew what was coming but there was no way for him to prepare himself and no way to stop it.
Slash came home from another raid, covered in sweat and blood and Raph had to hide the smile when he noticed that some of it was seeping from gaping wounds. At least, whoever Slash had taken down had put up a good fight. The large snapper opened the flask in his hand and took a swig then smacked his lips. "Your kind knows how to make the best drink."
"So you raided another turtle tribe?" Raph asked, trying to sound disinterested.
"Got this off a settler actually," Slash corrected after taking another drink. "It seems that your kind has gone to try to fit in with them, selling their wares to them and the like."
"Good for them," Raph headed to his box. "If I may be permitted to retire for the night then, I am done with my daily tasks."
"Get on the bed," Slash growled and when Raph stiffened, Slash laughed. "Don't act all surprised, you knew that this day was coming. Now get."
"You just… never showed any interest in me before," Raph's voice shook.
"I have no interest in children. You're no longer a child."
Swallowing hard, Raph crawled up onto the soft fur blanket and noted the damage that had been done to it over the years by Slash's rough shell and spikes.
He lied back on this carapace and tried to keep his breathing steady as Slash joined him on the bed. The bottle in the large snapper's hand was enough to serve four men and he drank it all himself before tossing it aside.
Grabbing a bottle of oil, Slash coated his finger then placed his hand between Raph's legs. "Untuck your tail," he rumbled as he grabbed Raph's wrists and lifted them above his head.
Raph hadn't even realized that he had it tucked. It took a great deal of effort for him to lower the trembling appendage. Slash wasn't gentle with his prep work, sending burning pain radiating up through Raph's tail.
But that pain was nothing compared to when Slash moved over him and thrust inside. Raph cried out, like most of Slash's 'partners' did, as tears burned his eyes. Slash's vice like grip on his wristed caused Raph's fingers to go numb from lack of circulation.
With every moment that passed he prayed that it would end but he knew that he would have to endure it for most of the night. The hours dragged on and though the pain subsided, he felt no pleasure, he just went numb.
When Slash was finally done with him, he was pushed to the floor. "Get back in your box," Slash mumbled as he settled in to his bed. Raph moved to pull himself off the floor, causing the pain in his tail to reassert itself. It took some effort but he managed to stand. As he made his way back to the box the sounds of Slash snoring snapped him out of his trance.
He turned and just stared at his master for a few moments before making his way to the door. His heart was pounding as he slipped out of the tent. He feared getting caught and knew the punishment for what he was attempting but he had to try.
The chief's set of tents was set in the middle of the snapper village. As he made his way through the surrounding tents, he saw other slaves tethered to stakes outside. One grabbed him by the ankle as he walked passed, causing him to fall to the ground.
Without a word, Raph got up and tried to free the silently pleading turtle but the straps held tight. Their eyes darted around as Raph worked to free the slave. He managed to work loose the straps binding the turtle's hands and managed to set him free.
They ran off, continuing in the direction Raph was originally heading. On their way they managed to free several more slaves before they reached the edge of the village that bordered the forest.
They managed to hide from the night sentry as he passed and Raph knew that they had to wait for the right moment before they could go. One of the younger slaves was too eager to be free and darted out of hiding, drawing the guard's attention. His piercing screams as he was caught echoed through the village, rousing several snappers.
They had no choice, they had to run. All at once the slaves made a mad dash for freedom, hoping to get lost in the forest. The village erupted as snappers awoke to find their slaves gone. It was every man for himself at that point and Raph's only focus was on escaping. If he stopped to help the others he would get caught.
He made it passed the tree line but didn't stop running. He pushed past his exhaustion, the soreness, and his own guilt and ran for all his worth. He heard others behind him but didn't know if they were friend or foe, he just continued to run.
He came upon a path in the forest just as a man was coming down it on horseback. He stopped when he saw Raph. There was concern in his eyes and he said something that Raph didn't understand. The man looked up past Raph then said something that sounded like a question.
Raph looked back to see if anyone was following him and when he turned back around he saw that the man had his hand out stretched to him. He didn't know what the man was saying but he figured that he wanted to help.
Placing his fate in this one man, Raph took his hand and was lifted up onto the horse. The man waited for the few moments it took Raph to settle behind him before taking off down the road at a fast gallop.
TBC