Chapter Five:
The Dark Man
I clamped my eyes shut, trying to hold out the sudden bright, stinging light flooding over me. Even with them closed, I could not escape the harsh glare and saw the bright reds and yellows behind my clenched eyes. I tried blinking the light away, and gradually my vision returned to me, but for quite a while, the images were blurred and indistinguishable and dark spots floated in my field of vision. I had wanted light, and I silently sent out sarcastic 'thank you's to whoever was responsible for this unpleasant circumstance.
I could hear Joseph quietly cursing in is slow drawl, and knew he was just as happy as I at the instant change that assaulted our eyes. John had his own choice words as he muttered under his breath off to the side, many of which directed to the afterlife destination of our captors. But, I never heard a word from the man named 'Hunter.' If he had even noticed the change, or if he was simply dead over in that far corner, I could hear no indication. I found him horribly unsettling, and began to dislike him more and more every moment.
The dark spots slowly became lighter and I could make out the shapes of my fellow prisoners more clearly. Joseph, who in the dim light appeared ugly with age and wrinkles, seemed even more so in the honest sun light. His hair was plaster white, and his eyes were framed with old and worn skin that looked more like dried leather than anything else. But his face still seemed wise to me, and I tended to like the old man more than any of the others. His eyes were the only part of him that did not seem exhausted, but shone with a happy smile that was not anywhere on his face. They were an earthy brown and suited him. He often looked toward his sad son with concern.
"Well, now." The voice called from the door. "We done good, boys! This here looks like a right, strong kid. We'll get some good work outta him."
The whiny voice continued with a jeering, and utterly obnoxious tone. "Just gotta fix his head up a bit. Poor lad got quite a bump."
A mass of jeering laughter echoed after him, and clumsy hands lifted me from the ground. They seemed to be trying to shake me roughly, yet I didn't feel the discomfort from their rude handling. Actually, by now, even the pain in my head was faint and feeble, leaving me to wonder why it would need medical attention at all. These men, seeing that I was not afraid of them or that I cared in the least at their efforts to disorient me further, grew frustrated and shook me even harder, but to the same failure.
"Now don't hurt him too badly, boys." That voice was high and nasal. I felt my anger rising at the sound of it. "We's gotta get enough work outta him to make our effort worth while. Now just bandage up his head and let's get on."
It wasn't until after they had applied the useless, clumsy bandage to my head, that I made a discovery, which would leave me baffled. One at a time, they removed the shackles from our hands, first Joseph, then John and finally myself. At the point of a small handgun in one of the large men, another handed down a serving of food for each of us, but he only carried three plates. The man called 'Hunter' was not among us. I looked back to the back corner where I saw his huddled form the night before, but saw only a dusty stool and scattered cobwebs in the shadows there.
"Here now! What 'cha looking at kid?" The slow witted giant asked.
"The other man," I started. I couldn't see how he could have possibly slipped past them so easily. There was only the one door and so many men blocked the way through that. That, and the fact that it was now broad daylight made it hard to believe that he could have suddenly escaped. "What happened to him?"
"Other man?" He boomed. "Looks like we picked us up a crazy one! He sees things."
If I was seeing things, I was hearing things as well. I remembered Joseph's explanation just as well as I recalled the dark image of Hunter bent over as he sat in that corner through the night. But when I turned to Joseph, I saw him staring at me with the same confusion as the simple-minded man.
"Joseph," I said, "What happened to him? Where is Hunter?"
"What are you talking about, sonny?" He asked, looking at me with concern that exasperated me entirely. "Ain't no one else here."
"I don't understand." I said. "Just last night, He was right there," and I pointed to the empty corner. "Joseph, you told me all about him. You were the one who said his name was 'Hunter'."
"You feeling okay?" He asked. "Maybe your head got beat harder than they meant to."
I couldn't understand any of this, and I no longer felt like eating. Just as well, it tasted like crap. I had been so sure he had been there. I was sure Joseph had told me of him. I could still remember the words. Yes, he had told me to take care, and called Hunter a fearsome man, "a damn fearsome man." I pushed my laden plate away on the floor, earning a concerned stare from my companions. Our guards, on the other hand, just laughed and took the food away in pleasure, commenting that if I wanted to starve, that was my own accord, one commenting that it would be a shame if one as strong as I fainted from hunger in the middle of my work load. I didn't care about them in the least; all that I could think of was my own confusion.
'What is going on?' My mind was racing, trying to make sense of this situation. 'Am I really going crazy? If I have forgotten everything before now, could I be remembering things that never happened? What the hell is this?'
John's dark eyes were fixed on me, reminding me that my face gave away more of my thoughts than I intended it to. I looked up, in no way at all comfortable, and met his stare. He looked as if he were in his thirties, with dull brown hair and his father's same earthy eyes. He had a kind face and seemed worried for me.
"Are you okay, man?"
"Yes." I lied. "I guess I just imagined it."
The day went on for years as I lay on my stomach, my hands once again trapped in chains behind my back. I was able to look around and observe more of my surroundings in the brighter light, and it seemed to be some form of trailer. What I had thought to be a window the night before was actually just a crude square cut into the side of the metal wall, clad with bars just outside it. This was most likely to keep the portable cell cool enough to keep its prisoners alive and keep a fresh supply of oxygen. Truly, our captor was a gracious man.
"How many are there?" I said to anyone who heard it.
"What do you mean?" Joseph's voice answered.
"We aren't the only ones he has taken prisoner right?" I said. "How many others are there?"
"Quite a few, I suppose, considering the number of trucks." He said.
"Thirty." John interrupted. "I've counted. Including us three, there are thirty in all."
There was silence for the next hour and we traveled on at a steady pace. The compartment bounced and jarred us slightly, and I saw the light behind the fabric covering our makeshift window grow more and more red. "Including us three…," John had said, making me wonder once more if the dark man had ever really been there. I had so few memories, but the brief time I had spent walking, the wide sky around me, the sun burning on the horizon just before the night fell, and the endless stars overhead all now flooded back over me. I could see every moment since I left that dilapidated city, and in these memories was the conversation with Joseph and the image of Hunter.
"Where will they take us?" I asked.
"Ain't no telling." Joseph said. " We could be on the road for days, or they may put us to work before the sun comes up again. There just ain't no telling."
Night was falling quickly, and the light grew more and more dim with every passing minute. I closed my eyes, deciding to maybe get a few hours sleep if by chance Joseph's prediction was true. My breathing began to slow and my mind became calm. I felt my heartbeat slow and sleep nearly overtook me when, with words so quiet I was not entirely sure I had heard, a strange voice spoke into the faint light.
"Why do you not break your chains?" It asked.
I was not sure I had heard anything, yet my eyes flashed open with an urgency I couldn't possibly understand. There, in that dusty corner, bent over on the stool, was the man called 'Hunter,' just as I had seen him the night before, although somehow it seemed less dark around him, and I could make out his form clearly. He was not a large man, yet I could see he held a great deal of strength. He crossed his arms across his chest and neither moved nor spoke for so long that I began to wonder if perhaps I had imagined hearing him at all. Finally, and suddenly, he turned his face and stared straight into my eyes. His face was hard, like steel, and his eyes were fierce and like black crystal. Everything about him told me to fear him, yet somehow, I wasn't. I looked at him and could say nothing. I took in his bright and wild eyes, his harsh face and tight frown, and his black hair, which looked more like fire than anything else, all in a moment.
"Why do you not break your chains, boy?" He asked again.
The Dark Man
I clamped my eyes shut, trying to hold out the sudden bright, stinging light flooding over me. Even with them closed, I could not escape the harsh glare and saw the bright reds and yellows behind my clenched eyes. I tried blinking the light away, and gradually my vision returned to me, but for quite a while, the images were blurred and indistinguishable and dark spots floated in my field of vision. I had wanted light, and I silently sent out sarcastic 'thank you's to whoever was responsible for this unpleasant circumstance.
I could hear Joseph quietly cursing in is slow drawl, and knew he was just as happy as I at the instant change that assaulted our eyes. John had his own choice words as he muttered under his breath off to the side, many of which directed to the afterlife destination of our captors. But, I never heard a word from the man named 'Hunter.' If he had even noticed the change, or if he was simply dead over in that far corner, I could hear no indication. I found him horribly unsettling, and began to dislike him more and more every moment.
The dark spots slowly became lighter and I could make out the shapes of my fellow prisoners more clearly. Joseph, who in the dim light appeared ugly with age and wrinkles, seemed even more so in the honest sun light. His hair was plaster white, and his eyes were framed with old and worn skin that looked more like dried leather than anything else. But his face still seemed wise to me, and I tended to like the old man more than any of the others. His eyes were the only part of him that did not seem exhausted, but shone with a happy smile that was not anywhere on his face. They were an earthy brown and suited him. He often looked toward his sad son with concern.
"Well, now." The voice called from the door. "We done good, boys! This here looks like a right, strong kid. We'll get some good work outta him."
The whiny voice continued with a jeering, and utterly obnoxious tone. "Just gotta fix his head up a bit. Poor lad got quite a bump."
A mass of jeering laughter echoed after him, and clumsy hands lifted me from the ground. They seemed to be trying to shake me roughly, yet I didn't feel the discomfort from their rude handling. Actually, by now, even the pain in my head was faint and feeble, leaving me to wonder why it would need medical attention at all. These men, seeing that I was not afraid of them or that I cared in the least at their efforts to disorient me further, grew frustrated and shook me even harder, but to the same failure.
"Now don't hurt him too badly, boys." That voice was high and nasal. I felt my anger rising at the sound of it. "We's gotta get enough work outta him to make our effort worth while. Now just bandage up his head and let's get on."
It wasn't until after they had applied the useless, clumsy bandage to my head, that I made a discovery, which would leave me baffled. One at a time, they removed the shackles from our hands, first Joseph, then John and finally myself. At the point of a small handgun in one of the large men, another handed down a serving of food for each of us, but he only carried three plates. The man called 'Hunter' was not among us. I looked back to the back corner where I saw his huddled form the night before, but saw only a dusty stool and scattered cobwebs in the shadows there.
"Here now! What 'cha looking at kid?" The slow witted giant asked.
"The other man," I started. I couldn't see how he could have possibly slipped past them so easily. There was only the one door and so many men blocked the way through that. That, and the fact that it was now broad daylight made it hard to believe that he could have suddenly escaped. "What happened to him?"
"Other man?" He boomed. "Looks like we picked us up a crazy one! He sees things."
If I was seeing things, I was hearing things as well. I remembered Joseph's explanation just as well as I recalled the dark image of Hunter bent over as he sat in that corner through the night. But when I turned to Joseph, I saw him staring at me with the same confusion as the simple-minded man.
"Joseph," I said, "What happened to him? Where is Hunter?"
"What are you talking about, sonny?" He asked, looking at me with concern that exasperated me entirely. "Ain't no one else here."
"I don't understand." I said. "Just last night, He was right there," and I pointed to the empty corner. "Joseph, you told me all about him. You were the one who said his name was 'Hunter'."
"You feeling okay?" He asked. "Maybe your head got beat harder than they meant to."
I couldn't understand any of this, and I no longer felt like eating. Just as well, it tasted like crap. I had been so sure he had been there. I was sure Joseph had told me of him. I could still remember the words. Yes, he had told me to take care, and called Hunter a fearsome man, "a damn fearsome man." I pushed my laden plate away on the floor, earning a concerned stare from my companions. Our guards, on the other hand, just laughed and took the food away in pleasure, commenting that if I wanted to starve, that was my own accord, one commenting that it would be a shame if one as strong as I fainted from hunger in the middle of my work load. I didn't care about them in the least; all that I could think of was my own confusion.
'What is going on?' My mind was racing, trying to make sense of this situation. 'Am I really going crazy? If I have forgotten everything before now, could I be remembering things that never happened? What the hell is this?'
John's dark eyes were fixed on me, reminding me that my face gave away more of my thoughts than I intended it to. I looked up, in no way at all comfortable, and met his stare. He looked as if he were in his thirties, with dull brown hair and his father's same earthy eyes. He had a kind face and seemed worried for me.
"Are you okay, man?"
"Yes." I lied. "I guess I just imagined it."
The day went on for years as I lay on my stomach, my hands once again trapped in chains behind my back. I was able to look around and observe more of my surroundings in the brighter light, and it seemed to be some form of trailer. What I had thought to be a window the night before was actually just a crude square cut into the side of the metal wall, clad with bars just outside it. This was most likely to keep the portable cell cool enough to keep its prisoners alive and keep a fresh supply of oxygen. Truly, our captor was a gracious man.
"How many are there?" I said to anyone who heard it.
"What do you mean?" Joseph's voice answered.
"We aren't the only ones he has taken prisoner right?" I said. "How many others are there?"
"Quite a few, I suppose, considering the number of trucks." He said.
"Thirty." John interrupted. "I've counted. Including us three, there are thirty in all."
There was silence for the next hour and we traveled on at a steady pace. The compartment bounced and jarred us slightly, and I saw the light behind the fabric covering our makeshift window grow more and more red. "Including us three…," John had said, making me wonder once more if the dark man had ever really been there. I had so few memories, but the brief time I had spent walking, the wide sky around me, the sun burning on the horizon just before the night fell, and the endless stars overhead all now flooded back over me. I could see every moment since I left that dilapidated city, and in these memories was the conversation with Joseph and the image of Hunter.
"Where will they take us?" I asked.
"Ain't no telling." Joseph said. " We could be on the road for days, or they may put us to work before the sun comes up again. There just ain't no telling."
Night was falling quickly, and the light grew more and more dim with every passing minute. I closed my eyes, deciding to maybe get a few hours sleep if by chance Joseph's prediction was true. My breathing began to slow and my mind became calm. I felt my heartbeat slow and sleep nearly overtook me when, with words so quiet I was not entirely sure I had heard, a strange voice spoke into the faint light.
"Why do you not break your chains?" It asked.
I was not sure I had heard anything, yet my eyes flashed open with an urgency I couldn't possibly understand. There, in that dusty corner, bent over on the stool, was the man called 'Hunter,' just as I had seen him the night before, although somehow it seemed less dark around him, and I could make out his form clearly. He was not a large man, yet I could see he held a great deal of strength. He crossed his arms across his chest and neither moved nor spoke for so long that I began to wonder if perhaps I had imagined hearing him at all. Finally, and suddenly, he turned his face and stared straight into my eyes. His face was hard, like steel, and his eyes were fierce and like black crystal. Everything about him told me to fear him, yet somehow, I wasn't. I looked at him and could say nothing. I took in his bright and wild eyes, his harsh face and tight frown, and his black hair, which looked more like fire than anything else, all in a moment.
"Why do you not break your chains, boy?" He asked again.