Chapter 4--Tragedy In a Back Alley
Lena wandered, staring wide-eyed at everything she saw. There were armed guards around every corner, but she hardly spared them a second thought. She was small for her age, and quick. Her bare feet were silent on the frozen ground, and she was sensible enough not to make any other sounds. The village was quaint, old-fashioned. The peaceful setting was somewhat ruined by the bored menace in the guards faces.
Lena's curious wandering was brought to a sudden halt as a silky cold voice came from behind her.
"Well, well, well. Looks like a poor little peasant girl has lost her way. Shame."
Before Lena could turn to see the source of the voice, a cold line of pain placed itself across her skinny throat. She swallowed, feeling the knife push a little harder against her dark skin.
"What do you want?" Her voice emerged as a hoarse whisper.
The man behind her chuckled sardonically. "I'm the one holding the knife, child. I think I should ask the questions." He removed the knife and spun her around with one hand, so fast that she stumbled and fell.
She could see his face now, and he reminded her of nothing so much as a fox on the hunt. She scrambled to her feet, intending to run. The man must have sensed her intention, for he grabbed her arm, nearly jerking her off her feet again. She struggled helplessly, but the man was so much stronger than her that she doubted he even noticed her struggles. He didn't speak, and Lena soon noticed why.
A black cat was standing at the mouth of the narrow alley, watching them both. The man was staring at it, horror stricken. She was confused by his fear, but she saw an opportunity, and took it. She twisted her thin arm in the man's slackened grip, darting down the alley towards the cat. She assumed, correctly, that the man would be too spooked by the black cat to follow.
Lena heard him shouting at the other black jackets behind her, but she ignored whatever he was saying and concentrated on running. She was fast, but tired and cold, and several of the men managed to draw near. She darted and dodged, huge hands grasping at her at every turn.
The black cat saved her again, appearing just ahead of her, watching with steady eyes, its thin tail waving like a beckoning finger. On a whim, Lena followed, dashing desperately after it. She wasn't sure where she was going, but she didn't care, as long as it was away from the fox-man and his knife.
She stopped dead in dismay. The cat, her guide, had vanished, and the thumping footsteps of her pursuers were getting closer by the second.
She looked around desperately, and it dawned on her that she was in the square that the fire-eater had been performing in. There were still faint scorch marks on the cobbles, though there was no sign of the boy; no clues as to what might have happened to him.
The men might have been able to catch her before, but she was in her own territory now. She knew every brick in every building, every speck of dirt on the ground. She skidded to a halt and dashed off in almost the opposite direction, straight towards the waiting arms of her pursuers. Their hands closed on empty air, for Lena had changed direction at the last second, and was now rocketing off through the narrow maze of alleys in which she lived. There was no way they could catch her now. Her sudden escape had confused them for a second, and it was all she needed. The men searched fruitlessly. She was nowhere to be found.
After a time, Lena made her way back to the run-down building in which her family rented two tiny rooms. The lights were on, and she could hear loud voices, though she couldn't tell whether they were raised in anger or alarm. She crept nearer, and she began to make out separate voices. Her mother and father's voices, as well as a thin wail that was Jay, rose into a fearful crescendo. There was another, very unpleasant sound, a sort of meaty crack, repeated three times. Then silence.
Her breath hitched in her throat, and Lena stood, frozen with fear and indecision. Worry about her family warred with her self-preservation instinct. Finally, as heavy footsteps approached the door from the inside she scuttled away, telling herself that she couldn't help anybody if she was dead. Two burly men and a ratty little woman exited, all three looking well pleased with their night's work.
As soon as they were out of sight, Lena scrambled for the door. Her nerveless fingers fumbled uselessly on the latch before she remembered how it worked. The door burst open before her desperation, and she ran inside. A cold, numbing sensation spread slowly over her entire body at the sight that greeted her. Both her parents lay on the ground, limbs bent at unnatural angles. Their faces were hardly recognizable, battered as they were. There was no sign of her brother.
With a strange, icy calm, Lena searched the other rooms, gathering her meager possessions. She didn't really look for Jay. She had no wish to see his dead body as well. There was no evidence that he was dead, except the three thumps she had heard, but the thought never crossed her mind that he could be alive.
She left, a ratty pillowcase slung across her thin shoulder. Behind her, in the shadows, something stirred.
So, how was that? Kit has decided that instead of another chapter of Lena, we are just going to go ahead and make chapter 5 Agni...