Chapter Six:
Escape
"Why not break them, boy?" Hunter said with his cold eyes burning into me. "Don't you have the power?"
I tried to pick myself from the ground so I could see him better, and I still had trouble believing he was sitting there. As surprised as I had been to see him vanish the morning before, nothing compared to the shock of suddenly finding him there again. We hadn't stopped once in the day, not even for a second meal, as our over-sized guards had promised, and the doors had never opened.
"Where," I stuttered, " where did you come from?"
"Break your chains, boy!" His voice became harder. "You have that strength, don't you?"
His words were loud and hard now, and urgency filled me as I heard them. Yes, he was there; I could see him clearly: his piercing eyes, cold face, and proud expression. It was familiar, but at the same time so foreign. There was still no image of him anywhere in my mind or anything other memory for that matter, yet something screamed at me that there was something about this man I should know, something I was missing.
"What are you talking about, Hunter?" Joseph's aged voice broke my thoughts. "Ain't no way the kid can break those things."
Joseph saw him too! But only this morning, he had denied any knowledge that the dark man had ever existed. I was sure I hadn't mistaken the confusion in his eyes only twelve hours ago. I stared at him, feeling as though the world was spinning. Even John was looking at Hunter in total recognition.
"What is going on here?" My voice was light, and my breathing was much faster than normal.
The dark figure stood slowly, and his chains dropped carelessly to the floor. My mouth dropped helplessly as he stalked towards me, his movements not affected at all by the way the compartment bounced and rocked from the uneven roads. He stepped in front of me as I craned my neck up to try and see his face. He dropped his brows so that his eyes were sharp and angular, always with that fearsome glint, and a smirking smile came over his face. Dressed in tight clothing as black as his wild hair, the only light I could see was in the white of his gloves and the gleam in his eyes. Staring up at him, I could find no words, and only adjusted my position to try and see him better.
"Why do you lie there?" His voice was quiet enough that only I could hear.
"How-- how are you free?" I said at the same volume. "Didn't they chain you?"
His smirk grew. "Their chains could not hold me, boy. Why not break yours?"
"I can't." I said.
"How do you know that, boy?" He asked with his eyes burning into me. "You have not tested your strength."
"There is not way." I reasoned. "How could I possibly break steal chains?"
"By doing it." He whispered fiercely.
It was his eyes, black pools of cold fire, that made me so uncomfortable. It felt as if he could see into me, just by the sheer intensity of his eyes. I was afraid of him, afraid of the way he looked down at me with a mysterious smirk, and afraid of the unexplainable force I felt from him. 'Hunter' did not move or speak any thing more, but just stood glaring down at me with his arms locked around his chest.
'Who is this guy?' I thought. 'He is here. He is standing in front of my eyes. Why? Where did he come from? Where did he go before?'
"Who are you?" I whispered, but he turned his back to me and walked silently to the opposite corner again. He sat again in the shadows, the darkness masking his face and his black clothes and hair blending into the shade.
"Go to sleep, boy." He commanded. "You can not break your chains until you are willing to do so."
I was about to say I could not break my chains at all, when a heavy drowsiness came over me. The others were already snoring softly from my side and my breathing became slow and rhythmic. I fought to keep my eyes open, but the sudden urge to lie down and sleep was so powerful, almost painful. The last thing I saw was Hunter's cold eyes and a tight frown etched on his face from the other side of the compartment.
The doors swung open several hours later, whirring in their railings, and stopped with a clang. I was awake as quickly as if I had been struck by lightning, jarred from an uneasy sleep and on my feet in less than a second. I crouched down in a stance of preparation without even realizing I was doing so; my trapped arms did not hinder me in the least. They entered staring at me with puzzled faces, but smiled cruelly soon enough and pointed small pistols at me.
It was still night; I could the stars from behind the approaching men. One by one, they grabbed the chains of Joseph, John, and myself and began to lead us toward the door, but as one approached the far corner, I saw a fearsome light in Hunter's eyes, and the man stopped a foot away from him. Without a word, the larger man backed away, and Hunter stood and walked in front of him, pausing a moment at the door to glance back at me. None of the other men stood in his way, nor spoke a word to him as he stepped from the compartment. Feeling the muzzle of a gun shoved into the center of my back, my guard pushed me forward, and I followed Hunter out of the truck.
In the pale light of lanterns, I saw women and children among a few strong looking men, dirt on each face with pale streaks down the cheeks from paths of tears. Fiery hate welled in my heart as I saw tiny children huddling together in fear. My heart was beating viciously and an indescribable desire to tear the armed guards to pieces brought such a heat to my face and body, I didn't think I could stand it. But the number of people was much more than only thirty, and many of the extra people were clean and stood apart from the others. I saw a line of people, who I could recognize easily as prisoners by their appearance alone, moving towards a crude stage.
In the middle of the wooden platform, one young man was standing alone. I recognized as the employer of the others by his nasal voice, that had irritated me so much. As he instructed one of his goons to remove the shirt of the prisoner on the stage, I realized, to my absolute horror, I was seeing nothing other than a slave auction. I stared at the bidding people in disbelief. In his hand, the midget merchant gripped the hilt of my sword; not seeming to have the strength to hold it up, the point dropped down only inches from the wooden surface. The sheath hung lower on his small body than it should, and what was meant to be an imposing sight, only seemed ridiculous to me.
"So is the way of these times, boy." A low voice said beside me.
Hunter was not looking at me, but rather at the stage. The young man had been sold quickly enough, having had a strong build, and the guards replaced the shackles on his wrists and were leading him down to his buyer.
"How," I mumbled, "How can they do this?"
"Fool." He snapped. "The strong will take what they need of the weak." He glared hard at me. "They do it because they can, because the weak either will not or cannot fight back. "
"Why aren't you still in chains?" I asked bitterly.
"Because I am strong." He smirked. "They can't come close to holding me captive."
He turned away from me again, and I watched as the fire from the lanterns glowed over his face. His hair flared up, and the light pulsed over the pointed ends of it. A long widow's peak trailed down his wide forehead, pointing to his dark, empty eyes. His face seemed to be all hard, jagged angles, and his entire body, small yet muscular, was stronger and tighter than solid iron.
Another prisoner had just been sold, and with money collected, the guards slapped chains on a young, slender woman. I clenched my teeth hard, clamped my eyes shut to try to control the rage, yet nothing could subdue the burning desire inside me for vengeance.
"This injustice angers you." He said firmly. "Why not put an end to it?"
I could not answer him. I could not even think well enough to truly comprehend.
"Break your chains, boy!" He said even louder. "Free yourself. Do not let yourself be weak by not fighting back!"
Something inside me snapped. I felt jolts all through my body, pulsing through every vein, filling my bones, and fueling my every movement until the energy seemed to flow from my body. I felt it escaping through my fingertips, through my chest and arms, and even the pores of my face. The energy engulfed me, rising high over my head and swirling around my body. It burned; it was hot against my face and hands. I saw many shocked eyes fixed on me, and many jaws dropped from prisoners, guards, and buyers alike. I jerked my arms from behind my back effortlessly; I did not even feel the iron chains crumble from my wrists as if they were made of sand.
I was glowing; the white light burned all around me. I saw the fear in the eyes of all who saw me as I slowly paced towards the stage, all except Hunter, who stood off to the side watching me with neither a smile nor a frown. The slave trader on stage took several steps back as I came nearer, his eyes darting from side to side looking for escape.
"What are you all waiting for?" He screamed to his employees. "Shoot him now!"
The two guards on stage pulled their weapons out in a flash, each firing a bullet straight towards my face. I was beyond the point of thinking through my actions. Lead by pure reaction, my hands circled in front of my face. I dropped them slowly to my sides, never once taking my eyes from the villains in front of me, and allowed the two lead bullets to fall and thump in the dirt below.
They were quaking as I stepped up onto the wooden platform; the leader stepped back carelessly and fell to the ground. He dropped my weapon, and the sword clanged as it struck the ground. My hand was at his collar before he saw me reach out. I lifted him from the ground, holding his miserable form at arm's length, and immediately heard the clicking of guns preparing to shoot.
"Stop you assholes!" He screamed, clutching at my hands while he hung off the ground. They complied quickly, glad that they did not have to challenge me.
"End this now." I whispered with such fury his eyes shrank in terror.
"Yes--yes of course!" He trembled. "What ever you say, kid. Fine. It's over."
"Free them all!" I yelled for everyone to hear. "Every person that you sold, free them all."
I heard a happy cheer from the prisoners and the hushed swearing from the buyers, who of course would want the money they had paid. The worthless man I held by his collar was painfully aware of this, and looked at me with terrified, pleading eyes.
"This will make a beggar of me." He whined.
"You have made your living from the broken hearts of others." I said, flinging him hard onto the stage floor. "If you are a beggar, it is not because of me."
I bent to the floor, taking possession of my weapon once more. The intensity of the energy surrounding me reflected in its bright blade.
"This belongs to me, you filth." I said coldly, and he hastily un-strapped the scabbard from his back, holding it out sheepishly to me.
"Never let me see that you have taken possession of something that is not yours." I said as I reclaimed what was mine.
The prisoners were already quickly running from the place, as well as some buyers who had not waited to collect the money they had spent. Even the hired guards were abandoning their employer, taking the trucks, and leaving the area as fast as the machines could take them. I left him there, paralyzed by his own fear and with angry buyers in want of their cash. I walked away from that dreary stage and into the darkness, into the shadows of the trees where I heard a familiar voice whispering to me.
"Sonny," he called with uncertainty. "What--what happened to you?"
"I really don't know." I said truthfully.
"Who are you?" John came from the shadows and asked. "What is your name?"
"I don't have a name." I said. "The only clue I have about anything is this sword."
"A sword?" John said. "Well then, thank you for that." I nodded gently and turned away from him, walking away from that whole nightmare. "Thank you for what you did for us, Swordsman." Joseph called after me.
I did not answer him; I did not even look back. But as I walked away from the area, a hard voice spoke directly behind me.
"You did well tonight, boy." I turned on my heel to meet Hunter's cold eyes. "Although you would have done better to have killed the coward."
"I didn't want to kill anyone." I said plainly.
"You will have to get over that, boy." The frightening man said in a voice that was almost a growl.
Escape
"Why not break them, boy?" Hunter said with his cold eyes burning into me. "Don't you have the power?"
I tried to pick myself from the ground so I could see him better, and I still had trouble believing he was sitting there. As surprised as I had been to see him vanish the morning before, nothing compared to the shock of suddenly finding him there again. We hadn't stopped once in the day, not even for a second meal, as our over-sized guards had promised, and the doors had never opened.
"Where," I stuttered, " where did you come from?"
"Break your chains, boy!" His voice became harder. "You have that strength, don't you?"
His words were loud and hard now, and urgency filled me as I heard them. Yes, he was there; I could see him clearly: his piercing eyes, cold face, and proud expression. It was familiar, but at the same time so foreign. There was still no image of him anywhere in my mind or anything other memory for that matter, yet something screamed at me that there was something about this man I should know, something I was missing.
"What are you talking about, Hunter?" Joseph's aged voice broke my thoughts. "Ain't no way the kid can break those things."
Joseph saw him too! But only this morning, he had denied any knowledge that the dark man had ever existed. I was sure I hadn't mistaken the confusion in his eyes only twelve hours ago. I stared at him, feeling as though the world was spinning. Even John was looking at Hunter in total recognition.
"What is going on here?" My voice was light, and my breathing was much faster than normal.
The dark figure stood slowly, and his chains dropped carelessly to the floor. My mouth dropped helplessly as he stalked towards me, his movements not affected at all by the way the compartment bounced and rocked from the uneven roads. He stepped in front of me as I craned my neck up to try and see his face. He dropped his brows so that his eyes were sharp and angular, always with that fearsome glint, and a smirking smile came over his face. Dressed in tight clothing as black as his wild hair, the only light I could see was in the white of his gloves and the gleam in his eyes. Staring up at him, I could find no words, and only adjusted my position to try and see him better.
"Why do you lie there?" His voice was quiet enough that only I could hear.
"How-- how are you free?" I said at the same volume. "Didn't they chain you?"
His smirk grew. "Their chains could not hold me, boy. Why not break yours?"
"I can't." I said.
"How do you know that, boy?" He asked with his eyes burning into me. "You have not tested your strength."
"There is not way." I reasoned. "How could I possibly break steal chains?"
"By doing it." He whispered fiercely.
It was his eyes, black pools of cold fire, that made me so uncomfortable. It felt as if he could see into me, just by the sheer intensity of his eyes. I was afraid of him, afraid of the way he looked down at me with a mysterious smirk, and afraid of the unexplainable force I felt from him. 'Hunter' did not move or speak any thing more, but just stood glaring down at me with his arms locked around his chest.
'Who is this guy?' I thought. 'He is here. He is standing in front of my eyes. Why? Where did he come from? Where did he go before?'
"Who are you?" I whispered, but he turned his back to me and walked silently to the opposite corner again. He sat again in the shadows, the darkness masking his face and his black clothes and hair blending into the shade.
"Go to sleep, boy." He commanded. "You can not break your chains until you are willing to do so."
I was about to say I could not break my chains at all, when a heavy drowsiness came over me. The others were already snoring softly from my side and my breathing became slow and rhythmic. I fought to keep my eyes open, but the sudden urge to lie down and sleep was so powerful, almost painful. The last thing I saw was Hunter's cold eyes and a tight frown etched on his face from the other side of the compartment.
The doors swung open several hours later, whirring in their railings, and stopped with a clang. I was awake as quickly as if I had been struck by lightning, jarred from an uneasy sleep and on my feet in less than a second. I crouched down in a stance of preparation without even realizing I was doing so; my trapped arms did not hinder me in the least. They entered staring at me with puzzled faces, but smiled cruelly soon enough and pointed small pistols at me.
It was still night; I could the stars from behind the approaching men. One by one, they grabbed the chains of Joseph, John, and myself and began to lead us toward the door, but as one approached the far corner, I saw a fearsome light in Hunter's eyes, and the man stopped a foot away from him. Without a word, the larger man backed away, and Hunter stood and walked in front of him, pausing a moment at the door to glance back at me. None of the other men stood in his way, nor spoke a word to him as he stepped from the compartment. Feeling the muzzle of a gun shoved into the center of my back, my guard pushed me forward, and I followed Hunter out of the truck.
In the pale light of lanterns, I saw women and children among a few strong looking men, dirt on each face with pale streaks down the cheeks from paths of tears. Fiery hate welled in my heart as I saw tiny children huddling together in fear. My heart was beating viciously and an indescribable desire to tear the armed guards to pieces brought such a heat to my face and body, I didn't think I could stand it. But the number of people was much more than only thirty, and many of the extra people were clean and stood apart from the others. I saw a line of people, who I could recognize easily as prisoners by their appearance alone, moving towards a crude stage.
In the middle of the wooden platform, one young man was standing alone. I recognized as the employer of the others by his nasal voice, that had irritated me so much. As he instructed one of his goons to remove the shirt of the prisoner on the stage, I realized, to my absolute horror, I was seeing nothing other than a slave auction. I stared at the bidding people in disbelief. In his hand, the midget merchant gripped the hilt of my sword; not seeming to have the strength to hold it up, the point dropped down only inches from the wooden surface. The sheath hung lower on his small body than it should, and what was meant to be an imposing sight, only seemed ridiculous to me.
"So is the way of these times, boy." A low voice said beside me.
Hunter was not looking at me, but rather at the stage. The young man had been sold quickly enough, having had a strong build, and the guards replaced the shackles on his wrists and were leading him down to his buyer.
"How," I mumbled, "How can they do this?"
"Fool." He snapped. "The strong will take what they need of the weak." He glared hard at me. "They do it because they can, because the weak either will not or cannot fight back. "
"Why aren't you still in chains?" I asked bitterly.
"Because I am strong." He smirked. "They can't come close to holding me captive."
He turned away from me again, and I watched as the fire from the lanterns glowed over his face. His hair flared up, and the light pulsed over the pointed ends of it. A long widow's peak trailed down his wide forehead, pointing to his dark, empty eyes. His face seemed to be all hard, jagged angles, and his entire body, small yet muscular, was stronger and tighter than solid iron.
Another prisoner had just been sold, and with money collected, the guards slapped chains on a young, slender woman. I clenched my teeth hard, clamped my eyes shut to try to control the rage, yet nothing could subdue the burning desire inside me for vengeance.
"This injustice angers you." He said firmly. "Why not put an end to it?"
I could not answer him. I could not even think well enough to truly comprehend.
"Break your chains, boy!" He said even louder. "Free yourself. Do not let yourself be weak by not fighting back!"
Something inside me snapped. I felt jolts all through my body, pulsing through every vein, filling my bones, and fueling my every movement until the energy seemed to flow from my body. I felt it escaping through my fingertips, through my chest and arms, and even the pores of my face. The energy engulfed me, rising high over my head and swirling around my body. It burned; it was hot against my face and hands. I saw many shocked eyes fixed on me, and many jaws dropped from prisoners, guards, and buyers alike. I jerked my arms from behind my back effortlessly; I did not even feel the iron chains crumble from my wrists as if they were made of sand.
I was glowing; the white light burned all around me. I saw the fear in the eyes of all who saw me as I slowly paced towards the stage, all except Hunter, who stood off to the side watching me with neither a smile nor a frown. The slave trader on stage took several steps back as I came nearer, his eyes darting from side to side looking for escape.
"What are you all waiting for?" He screamed to his employees. "Shoot him now!"
The two guards on stage pulled their weapons out in a flash, each firing a bullet straight towards my face. I was beyond the point of thinking through my actions. Lead by pure reaction, my hands circled in front of my face. I dropped them slowly to my sides, never once taking my eyes from the villains in front of me, and allowed the two lead bullets to fall and thump in the dirt below.
They were quaking as I stepped up onto the wooden platform; the leader stepped back carelessly and fell to the ground. He dropped my weapon, and the sword clanged as it struck the ground. My hand was at his collar before he saw me reach out. I lifted him from the ground, holding his miserable form at arm's length, and immediately heard the clicking of guns preparing to shoot.
"Stop you assholes!" He screamed, clutching at my hands while he hung off the ground. They complied quickly, glad that they did not have to challenge me.
"End this now." I whispered with such fury his eyes shrank in terror.
"Yes--yes of course!" He trembled. "What ever you say, kid. Fine. It's over."
"Free them all!" I yelled for everyone to hear. "Every person that you sold, free them all."
I heard a happy cheer from the prisoners and the hushed swearing from the buyers, who of course would want the money they had paid. The worthless man I held by his collar was painfully aware of this, and looked at me with terrified, pleading eyes.
"This will make a beggar of me." He whined.
"You have made your living from the broken hearts of others." I said, flinging him hard onto the stage floor. "If you are a beggar, it is not because of me."
I bent to the floor, taking possession of my weapon once more. The intensity of the energy surrounding me reflected in its bright blade.
"This belongs to me, you filth." I said coldly, and he hastily un-strapped the scabbard from his back, holding it out sheepishly to me.
"Never let me see that you have taken possession of something that is not yours." I said as I reclaimed what was mine.
The prisoners were already quickly running from the place, as well as some buyers who had not waited to collect the money they had spent. Even the hired guards were abandoning their employer, taking the trucks, and leaving the area as fast as the machines could take them. I left him there, paralyzed by his own fear and with angry buyers in want of their cash. I walked away from that dreary stage and into the darkness, into the shadows of the trees where I heard a familiar voice whispering to me.
"Sonny," he called with uncertainty. "What--what happened to you?"
"I really don't know." I said truthfully.
"Who are you?" John came from the shadows and asked. "What is your name?"
"I don't have a name." I said. "The only clue I have about anything is this sword."
"A sword?" John said. "Well then, thank you for that." I nodded gently and turned away from him, walking away from that whole nightmare. "Thank you for what you did for us, Swordsman." Joseph called after me.
I did not answer him; I did not even look back. But as I walked away from the area, a hard voice spoke directly behind me.
"You did well tonight, boy." I turned on my heel to meet Hunter's cold eyes. "Although you would have done better to have killed the coward."
"I didn't want to kill anyone." I said plainly.
"You will have to get over that, boy." The frightening man said in a voice that was almost a growl.