"What are you doing?"

Joey felt a sharp pain radiate through his ribs as Chatto kicked him; he glanced up at the older boy, his blue eyes studying him with a cold glint.

"I am working" Joey said, turning back to his chore of skinning a wild rabbit.

"You only ever do women's work" Chatto scoffed. "You are no better than a woman." He let out a cruel chuckle.

Joey stopped his work and looked at the boy squarely, this had become a common occurrence since the raid a few months before. "Your father thinks I am a better shot than you" he said, the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Chatto's eyes flashed and he again struck out with his foot, knocking Joey off balance. Before he could regain his footing once again, Chatto had picked up the half skinned rabbit and thrown it into the dirt. The older boy watched with amused, satisfied eyes as Joey was forced to go and fetch it, knowing that the skinny boy would now be beaten for allowing the food to be spoiled. Chatto gave a satisfied snigger and left to amuse himself as he saw fit.

Joey knew that this would be the likely outcome, yet his pride would never allow himself to take such harsh words. He made his way down to the river and washed the meat, hoping this action would be enough to hide the fact it had fallen to the dusty ground. As he stood in the cool water, allowing the gentle flow to sooth his tired, sore feet he heard the sound of a small whimper. He glanced up and saw the two young gringos that had been brought into the village a week before after another raid on a homestead. Joey had never seen captives brought back to the camp and sometimes in his spare moments free from work he would watch them as they sat in sorrowful silence. Perhaps it was their light hair which had made the Apaches want to keep them, they both had curled red hair and appeared to be kin. One was a boy perhaps a few years younger than Joey himself, the other was a young woman in her early teens.

The girl looked up, it had been the boy who had been whimpering as Joey noticed the girl's eyes were dry. She fixed her hazel gaze upon him and they studied each other for what felt to Joey a long moment. They were both tied to a post and so Joey felt no threat and decided to get a little closer, his curiosity piqued. He drew as close as he dared and stared at the girl intently as she looked back slightly embarrassed by his blatant attention.

"You ain't an Apache." Her voice broke the silence startling Joey for a moment.

Joey didn't reply for a good while, hardly anyone addressed him in a kindly way, it was always anger…unless he'd just made a good shot.

"Neither are you." He said with a sneer.

"Course I ain't." She barked back and then gave him a small smile, seeing that she had caused him to back away with her stern words. "Did they capture you from your home too?" She asked, her tone now sweet and comforting.

Joey shook his head. "I was sold." He said simply.

The girl looked shocked before she again found her voice. "Did they tie you up for a while when you got here?"

Joey again shook his head. "No, I just work." It felt strangely enjoyable to be talking to someone that wanted to talk to him.

"They killed our Ma and Pa." She nodded down to the boy. "Will they kill us?"

Joey gave a casual shrug. "I do not know." He paused. "Maybe."

The girl glanced down as if this news had been too much of a blow to take. Finally she looked back into his face. "My name's Sarah-Ann and this is my brother Francis." She paused. "What's your name?"

"Joey." He said calmly.

"Nice to meet you Joey." She said not forgetting some of her manners. "You're Mexican ain't you?" I ain't never seen a Mexican with blonde hair."

Joey just stared at her, feeling a little insulted for some reason he couldn't quite fathom.

"Maybe you could find out what they plan to do with us?" Sarah-Ann asked hopefully.

"No." Joey said coolly. "I will get beaten."

"Oh." She looked suddenly defeated. "Would you bring us some food at least? We ain't eaten in days."

Joey mulled over the request as she continued to stare at him with pleading eyes. "If I can get away… maybe." He said finally not committing himself to anything.

---

It just so happened that Joey found he had a good space of time when no one was watching him. After he had eaten his small meal, he stole the scraps meant for the dogs and crept outside. The dusk was warm and he quickly made his way to the pole where the girl was tied. As he came into her line of sight she broke into a grin, her eyes sparkling with pure happiness to see his face.

"You came back." She said in a hushed voice.

Joey didn't answer, instead he bent down and began to hand feed her and the boy food. They both ate greedily until he had no more to give them.

"Thank you." Her tone was honest. "Where do you come from?"

"Ojinaga." Joey said slowly, almost loathing speaking the name of the place his mother lived in.

"I don't think I know it." Sarah-Ann frowned.

"It's in Mexico." Joey replied simply.

"Oh, I ain't never been there." She looked at him intently. "How old are you?"

"Twelve."

She nodded but her expression betrayed that it was hard work talking to him. "You been here long?"

"I was nine when I came here." Joey was starting to feel annoyance at her constant questions. Hardly anyone spoke to him here, to be suddenly bombarded with words was a little shocking.

"Joey?" The sound of his name actually being spoken instead of just 'boy' startled him further and he looked directly at her. She was pretty in a way, he supposed. Still chubby with youth around her cheeks, her eyes almond shaped with sandy long lashes. Her lips were thin, but a pretty rose blush in color.

"Yes?" He asked curtly.

"Maybe you could help me and my brother…"

"What do you mean?" Joey asked his untrusting nature coming back into control.

"Well, if you help us get away from here, I can go to a town and send lawmen back to get you out." She gave a small smile and fluttered those long lashes. "I ain't no ma or pa now but I have an aunt. She's got a good ranch up in Texas…" She paused trying to gauge his reaction to her words. "Maybe she'd take us all in, once you've been rescued an' all."

Joey's eyes narrowed, his mind working, trying to detect any untruth to her words. "You would… come back for me?" He asked with a mixture of curiosity and disbelief.

"Yes, of course!" Sarah-Ann said with conviction.

Joey's brow puckered. "No." He said sternly. "You are lying."

"I ain't!" Sarah-Ann pleaded seeing her only hope of escape slipping away.

"My mother said she would come for me… she betrayed me." Joey said bitterly. "Why should I trust you?"

"Because." She said desperately. "I won't betray you Joey, I ain't like that."

Joey studied her carefully before finally reaching his decision. "You will come back?"

She nodded eagerly.

"I will help…" He paused. "But if you are caught, you must not tell them I helped you, entiendes?" He said sternly.

Sarah-Ann again nodded. "I promise, you got my word."

Joey worked upon the ropes binding them to the pole until they were loose enough for Sarah-Ann and her brother to wriggle free. Joey stood up and crept back into the shadows, giving them a single glance over his shoulder as he made his way into the heart of the village, silently hoping he had not been missed.

---

The next morning Joey awoke to the sound of great commotion in the village. His sleep had been light due to the fact he had not been able to stay in slumber for long. He kept wondering how long it would take for the girl to get to the nearest town and when help would be sent for. He rubbed his eyes carelessly and heaved himself out of bed. It was not long past dawn and his brow furrowed at the continued noise from outside. He pushed the door flap aside and stepped out. It seemed the whole village was awake. Chatto was stood nearby although Joey could not see Kutli anywhere. He walked up beside the young brave.

"What is happening?" Joey asked his eyes still upon the crowd of excited people.

Chatto glanced at him a sneer forming at the corner of his mouth. "The two fire haired children, they tried to escape but they were tracked and brought back." He paused and gave a small grin. "The elders are displeased… they were going towards a white town, they would have lead the white men to us…"

Joey's head jerked towards Chatto, his eyes a little surprised. "Will they be killed?"

Chatto grinned and shrugged casually before punching Joey hard but playfully upon the arm. "Come, let's go and watch." He began to drag the reluctant young boy through the crowd.

In the centre of the village around the large fire sat the elders, Kutli stood beside them and in the centre was the chief, who was lightly wrapped in a thin buffalo skin. The elders all seemed to be talking at once until the chief raised his hand bringing silence. His dark eyes were upon the young boy and girl who stood a little away from him. Their eyes were downcast and Francis clutched at his older sister's skirts sniffling. The chief leant across and whispered something to one of the other men. This man, a thin but sinewy old warrior called Itza-chu stood and walked towards the children, they both took a small step backwards as he approached.

"How did you get out of your bindings?" He asked in a clear voice. Joey knew that this man was used for talking to the gringos; his speech of their language was well versed. "You did not do it youself."

Sarah-Ann shook her head as little Francis began to cry.

"Speak!" The man said forcefully. "If you tell us who gave you aid they shall be beaten in your place."

Sarah-Ann looked about her, her eyes flying wildly for any help, but none was forthcoming.

"Fetch me a hard stick." Itza-chu said to one of the young braves who quickly obeyed. Itza-chu gave the stick a swish through the air and Sarah-Anne's eyes widened. "Bring her here." He ordered and two women from the crowd forced her forward and onto her knees before they began to remove her blouse. Sarah-Anne cried out in distress as the clothing on her torso was stripped and she was left with only her hands to cover her modesty. With soft, gasps of breaths she began to cry as Joey watched on his eyes wide, his heart beating wildly within his chest, not only at what was happening but at the fact that she may give him away at any moment… but she had given her word!

Itza-chu raised the stick and Sarah-Ann gave a screech halting the assault before it had begun.

"No!" She cried, sniveling in her hysterical sobs. "It was the Mexican boy, Joey, it was him!" She cried descending into more snivels.

Joey instinctively glanced at Chatto who wore a smug smirk upon his lips. He grabbed Joey's arm and pushed him forward into the clearing.

"Bring him here." Itza-chu said calmly.

Sarah-Ann was helped to her feet as Joey glared at her. She was led to the side lines of the crowd where she was made to face the current occurrences.

Joey was forced to his knees and his back bared ready for the first strike. As the first blow fell sending a burning sensation through his flesh, Joey fixed his eyes upon the girl, the one that had betrayed him and the pain lessened, his hatred was all that mattered. The agony from the beating would fade but his anger, his hatred would never leave him and would hold him in its comfort for all time, constant and unrelenting as the sun's rays.

He now knew that he would never allow himself to be used in such a way by anyone no matter how helpless they looked. He could only rely on himself and to trust in others was a mistake he would not pay for again…

---

Kutli thought that the harsh and brutal beating Joey had received was near punishment enough for his crimes and only gave him more chores instead of less food or more blows. In a way Kutli understood what a pair of pretty eyes could do to a boy's soul no matter what the age. The months passed and Joey turned thirteen. He did not see the young girl Sarah-Ann or her brother again they were sold off to another village. Joey was glad of this fact, he hated the girl and just looking at her seemed to make his very blood boil within his veins.

Once the village had calmed from the excitement and distrust he had once again earned, Joey was often taken on raids. His skills were still well thought of, even if his position had not changed. It was the height of summer, and today the Apache warriors were tracking a group of Texan men that had kidnapped, raped and killed two Apache women who had strayed from their gathering. The warriors rode for many miles across the arid landscape, Joey was silently thankful of the gift of a hat which he had been rewarded with after his third raid with the Apache, it was fairly new, brown in colour, large brimmed with a leather band wrapped around the crown. It was far too big for his head, but he was still glad of it and knew one day he would grow into it.

Once they reached their destination, another homestead, this one larger than the others but no less isolated, Joey was given the go ahead to find a place he felt comfortable shooting from and to see if he was able to pick any of them off before they needed to venture closer. The Apaches knew they could take no chances with the Texans and they didn't trust them an inch, ambush was the best form of attack. Joey found a small curve upon a hill and lay down, his eyes narrowed as he scanned his surroundings, the soft rustle of long dried grass swaying in the summer breeze reached his ears, calming his mind and slowing his heart beat. Through the haze of heat he could make out two men talking near a pen of cattle, they were almost too easy. He leveled his gun and took aim, the rifle bucked as he pulled the trigger. The first man fell dead and within a split second the other man joined him. Joey let a smirk appear at the corner of his mouth as the thrill and power of holding life and death over these people rippled through him. Within this moment he held sovereignty, he was no slave, he was the master and they bowed when he ordered it. His smirk graduated into a small grin, killing was good sport indeed…

The familiar war cry was sent up by the surrounding Apache warriors as more Texan men came pouring out of the house, their guns held high. Joey propped himself up on his elbow and watched the chaos unfold, the Texans took out a few of the Apache before they were cut down.

Joey turned suddenly, hearing the sound of footsteps behind him, Chatto stood looming above him.

"Come," he said with spite edging his tone, "we shall go and join them."

Joey studied him coolly; he could read the boy's look with ease. Chatto could not hide his loathing for Joey or the fact that his plan was to find a Texan, to finish him and restore his father's favors for himself. They made their way down to the homestead; most of the Texan men were dead but a few still fought on although it was a vain attempt on their part.

"Let us go into the house and see if there is anything worth taking." Chatto's tone was defeated; he had left it too long to lead Joey down here; there were no men with real fight left.

The wooden house was cool and dark with many homely quilts and quaint touches adorning the chairs and iron bedstead. Chatto's eyes scanned the room and he casually picked up a few of the items before flinging them back down in disgust. "Nothing but white man's junk!" he declared.

It was in that moment that they both heard the faint cry, a baby's cry. Chatto's head jerked in the direction it had come from and a sly smile fell upon his lips.

"Come" he said, gesturing for Joey to follow him.

They made their way to the back of the house; Chatto pulled back a curtain that separated the bedroom from the living area revealing, huddled against the far wall, a young woman clutching a baby. She was not past her mid twenties, was blonde and pretty with pale green eyes and a slender figure. At the sight of the two men within her home she shakily raised her free arm and aimed a pistol at them, her finger curled nervously around the trigger as her brow beaded with sweat.

"Stay back!" she cried, her eyes already pooling with tears.

Joey watched her with a mixture of curiosity and sadness, she looked so helpless and she had lost everything, her husband, her family, she was desperate.

Chatto gave a smug laugh and without pausing he pulled out his handgun.

"I'm warnin' you! Stay back!" the woman cried, her eyes rolling to white as the fear engulfed her.

Chatto aimed his gun and the woman hesitated as if gauging if he wanted her to surrender and lower her weapon, but all her thoughts were soon blocked out forever as he pulled the trigger landing a bullet neatly between her eyes. Joey suppressed the gasp that rose within his throat and watched with numb horror as she fell with a limp thud to the ground. The baby's cries intensified and Chatto rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Shut it up!" he commanded, pointing to the dead woman.

Joey gingerly went over to the body and pulled her heavy form from off the child. It wriggled and cried louder as Joey stared at it, not knowing what he should do to quiet it.

He glanced at Chatto, "What should I do?" he asked.

"Kill it" Chatto said casually, picking up a pretty decorative hair comb and studying it before pushing it into his waistband.

Joey glared at him and then looked back at the babe. "No" he said determinedly.

Chatto's eyes flashed and he turned, meeting Joey's gaze, his mouth twisting in hatred and anger that he was being disobeyed. He marched over to Joey and wrenched him onto his feet before picking up the baby carelessly by its upper arm and flinging it onto the nearby bed.

"You will do as I tell you, kill it!" He drew out his gun and aimed it at Joey's head. "It is a white baby, it will become a white man! It has no place here!"

Joey stared down the barrel of the gun, unlike the poor dead girl he knew when Chatto aimed his weapon he meant to use it.

Joey glanced back at the child, his insides beginning to squirm with the heavy burden of decision. He closed his eyes briefly and told himself to stop thinking about it, he did not know the child, he held no affection for it… it was either him or it.

He reached out, his hands shaking slightly, so that only he noticed the tremor and picked up one of the pillows from the bed. Without glancing at the crying babe he pushed the pillow down, covering its face completely. The child squirmed unpleasantly and Joey closed his eyes, wishing with all his might that it would soon be still. He pushed down harder and after a few dreadful, sickening moments had passed the child no longer moved. Joey gave one last push to make sure and then lifted the pillow, his mind already fearing to see what lay beneath.

The baby was still and its skin was tinged with a strange pale blue hue… it no longer drew breath, it was done. Joey felt his anger begin to boil at the sight, it roared like a fire ascending from his belly and engulfing his mind, he was acutely aware it was not over the little life he had just extinguished. Though he been loath to do the deed, he had in some small way enjoyed the power of life and death he had once again held. But this anger was directed at being forced to do something he himself had not desired to do. He heard smug, satisfied laughter and turned to see Chatto's amused face, his eyes danced with pleasure at the dominance he held over the young boy before him.

"That's better boy, you should always do as I say." He paused, detecting the anger Joey was feeling to a small degree. "After all, you are my slave and when my father dies I will beat you to death." He grinned and turned back to sorting through the scarce jewelry he had come across in a small wooden box.

Joey glared at him for a long moment before his gaze was drawn back to the dead child and then to its mother. He walked slowly over to her, his eyes taking in the bullet hole that now seeped thick looking blood. He looked down, the corner of his eye caught the glint of metal in the sunlight that shone in through an open window, the young woman still held the gun in her limp grip. Joey glanced back at Chatto and seeing he was still engrossed in his pillage he leant down as if examining the body. He reached out, his fingers brushing the wooden butt of the gun.

"What are you doing?" Chatto asked his brow furrowing.

Joey did not give him time to register anything else; he gripped the gun and wrenched it from the woman's grip bringing it level with Chatto's chest. Chatto's face fell in shocked surprise and Joey smirked before he pulled the trigger, the squeezing action felt like bliss rippling through his arm and vibrating into his mind as the bullet left the chamber and flew, burrowing deeply into the torso of the young Apache.

Chatto gave a small strangled sound, his hands clutching fruitlessly at the spot the bullet had entered and then he crumpled down onto the ground. Joey watched the gun for moment as small whispers of smoke curled from the barrel, he then bent down and laid the gun back into the woman's grip, wrapping her limp fingers around it. Joey walked slowly over to Chatto's body with certain casual steps, he squatted upon his haunches over the boy and looked down into his face, he was not yet dead, but blood clogged his mouth making it hard for him to breathe, he gasped gargled breaths, his eyes flying wildly.

Joey watched, the smile growing to a grin, and then a low chuckle escaped his lips as the life ebbed from the young boy's body. Chatto looked up into the face of his killer, his gaze registering that the power had now fully switched, before his eyes glazed over and his vain attempts at breathing stopped with one last whispered breath. Joey chuckled, again feeling a great satisfaction in knowing his smiling face had been the last thing the bastard had seen. He pulled the gun from Chatto's holster and threw it to the floor so it landed a few feet away, this would make them think the weapon had been dropped in a hurry.

He rose and shouldered his rifle, mentally wiping the grin and smugness from his face. He glanced at his reflection in a nearby mirror and saw a young boy of thirteen staring back at him with cold, stark blue eyes and he knew with a tug of pleasure that those eyes would no longer hold any remorse. He smirked one last time, adjusted his hat and replaced his expression with one of shock. He ran from the shack as if fleeing a great foe and let words burst from him in mock panic.

"She killed him, the woman in the house killed him!" His legs carried him towards the tall warrior who was dispatching the last of the Texans as the other warriors looked on.

Kutli looked up, his face becoming haggard within that moment of hearing those dreadful words, knowing without having to ask that his own son was dead. He abandoned the body of the Texan, neglecting to even wipe off his bloody knife.

"What has happened?" His normally steadfast voice held a tremor to its edge.

Joey caught his breath and looked up with fearful eyes. "Chatto wanted me to help him carry things from the house; a woman and a child were in there." He paused allowing himself a few seconds more to regain air and fight back the urge to laugh in insane glee at the look upon the man's face. "He wanted to kill the child so he did but the woman had a hidden gun, she shot him and then was going to shoot me, she was loco, but I grabbed Chatto's gun and shot her." He stopped and bowed his head in mock sadness. "I could do nothing to save his life."

"Ciye!" Kutli whispered in dread. Without looking at Joey he set off across the dusty ground towards the house, the other men followed in pursuit and support of their friend. With all their backs turned from him Joey chanced a smile and then followed them. He peered inside the house, looking around the men who blocked most of his view until he saw Kutli kneeling over his son's body, he sang quietly in whispered mourning. Joey felt his heart begin to soar at the sight. He turned from them, pretending to respect the moment; he sat down upon the edge of the porch and looked out across the plains. Now more than ever he knew he would soon be free and once he was, no man would hold power over him again and anyone that tried to beat him down would pay…