Missing Elements (The Lament Book 3) (24 page)

"Get him in the cart! Before
anyone-" The man looked up at her, his eyes familiar to her, but not
instantly recognizable.

"Let him go!" Pran
tried to move atypically then, without pattern or rhythm. She nailed it
totally, of course, since the moment she tried to step left suddenly, then
twist and roll toward the collection of bodies, she fell flat on her face.
Hard.

It was enough that her nose bled
freely, even as she got to her feet, feeling stupid. No one cared if you were
bleeding in a fight though. That meant you had to ignore the pain and just
press on, no matter what. It didn't really work for her very well, given that
one of the smaller people simply pulled out a weapon and shot her with it. Pran
recognized the feeling as she went out, her mind suddenly going numb.

A sonic.

The first thing she realized, was
that even though it was dark, she wasn't in a regular cart. No, she was riding
along the bumpy road too fast for that. There was no horse that could have
pulled it along at that rate and survive it. The seat she was lying on was
padded, but there was no light that she could notice. The world roared however,
meaning that this was probably one of those tech machines. Her hands had been
tied, and well, if the lack of movement she was showing counted for anything.
The rope was rough, so made of hemp, or some other plant fiber. That meant she
could cut it, or even break the threads with a sharp nail or small knife, if
things were set up correctly.

They weren't however. Not if the
goal was for her to get her hands free and escape.

No one was around her, but she
could hear people to her right, on the other side of the wall, talking softly.
It was too loud to really make out what they were saying clearly, but she could
tell there were three of them, and they seemed pleased with themselves. That,
or the two men and one woman were insanely practicing a comedy routine. There
was a whole lot of chuckling, either way.

The real seeming kind.

When the vehicle stopped, Pran
got ready to fight, but didn't get much of a chance, since the wall behind her
turned out to be a door, and when it opened half of what had been supporting
her was gone suddenly. With a helping hand from one of the large men, she was
tugged into a bit of snow, on the muddy ground.

"Get her on her knees."
The voice was rough, but again,
familiar
. The two other people helped
her up, not bothering to hit her or anything fancy like that. It was probably a
mistake, if they were planning on doing anything that needed her to kneel.

She smiled, her face still numb
from the combination of a sonic blast and cold. They hadn't taken her blanket,
or her sap. Not that it would help her much with her hands tied like they were.
The man that walked up didn't go for his trousers front instantly, but that
could mean he just wanted to hit her for a while first, to make sure she knew
who was boss. Stomach blows probably, so her mouth wouldn't be too sore to suck
him, probably. That's what people did.

"Hello Pran. I don't know if
you remember me? I certainly recall you, however."

It was hard to focus still, which
was probably thanks to the weapon that they'd used on her. The man looked a
little different now, which also didn't help, having several bright red lines
on his face. Cuts, or scratches. They were healing, but she nodded, working out
who was behind them. He sounded different too. Smarter, for one thing.

"Hello, Dovish. I see they
let you go? No hard feelings then, I take it?" She managed to sound wry,
but not angry or scared. She was, of course. Frightened out of her mind. It
wasn't the rape, or even torture she expected to come from these people that
did it. Not totally. It was that Donal wasn't
there
. They'd been
stealing him first, when she came up at random. It didn't make sense, did it?
Why take an old street cleaner?

The man touched his face.

"Oh, some. Not so much
against
you
, though you have gotten in the way of our plans several
times now. I could let that go, personally, since what's a bit of torture
between friends, but Tammy here... Well, she's not as forgiving as I am."

That was clear, since the woman
pulled her face mask down, showing that she'd been beaten at the very least.
Probably by either the Guardians or the spy service. Which Donal's partner,
Riley, was the head of. Right. That explained a portion of things then. This
wasn't about the man being removed from
her
, but the other way around.
They'd brought her out to the middle of nowhere to simply die. On the good
side, it might mean that Donal had a chance. A slim one, but maybe he could be
found in time. Ransomed back? She didn't know, but Tammy didn't bother speaking
first, just waving a bit, as if happy to see Pran.

Then she jogged to the self
moving wagon and came back a moment later. With a rifle. Without doing more
than smiling, she pointed it at Pran's middle and pulled the trigger, making a
loud clapping sound. The bullet went through her blanket, and shirt, lodging
painfully in the wall of her stomach, she was willing to bet.

"Ahgh." The word was
bitten off, but before the woman could speak, Pran tried to recover, and gasped
a few words out. "I knew... It couldn't hurt... that much. Crybaby."

Tammy glared at her, but looked
at the red spot blossoming on the front of her gray blanket. It was soaking up
a lot of the blood, but a large wet patch was forming. If she couldn't get the
bleeding to stop, she'd probably die from the wound. It wouldn't take much
though. Just a free hand or two and the blanket she had on would be enough. It
had just been a low powered air rifle, after all.

Tammy kicked at her, which would
have landed over the wound if Pran hadn't managed to twist a bit, out of the
way. It stole her breath for a bit anyway. Enough that she wondered if she were
going to die. Or would have, if not for the fact that she remembered being hurt
worse in the past.

"So, if it isn't the little
Apprentice Guardian. Or was it Apprentice Bard? I never was too clear on that
one. They told me about how you defeated us. How one girl stopped
all
our plans. When they were letting us go. That was a mistake, don't you think?
You can't torture someone, and then let them go later, can you?"

Pran couldn't respond yet, but
had to agree in spirit, letting them go certainly seemed like a poor plan,
given the current situation. She managed to nod a bit. It wasn't like they were
going to make the same mistake with her. Letting her live like that.

Dovish smiled and shook his head.

"Too bad, Tammy, I
was
going to see if she'd put out. I doubt she will now that you
shot
her. I
never got a chance on the ship." He let his eyes go dim and spoke slowly
then, repeating the performance that he'd held for years for the crew of The
Lament and her captain. "
I'm soooo hungry
. Look as the jam I
smeared on my face lady. I'm like a big dumb puppy." He laughed then, a
loud but not happy thing. "It made it hard to get much by way of female
company."

Pran wondered if the man was just
going to rape her after all, but he didn't bother going for his pants. She took
the time to catch her breath, not bothering to try and get up yet. That was
going to hurt and she'd be no better off that way. It was the last man, one
that she didn't recognize, at first, that rolled her over and shook his head.

"Either kill her or get a
bandage from the first aid kit in the car. We don't have time for petty
revenge."

That voice was familiar too. Not
that she could place it yet.

Dovish snorted then gasped,
seeming to be in pain. It took a while for him to answer, but he shook his
head.

"I don't care what you do to
her. You pick Tammy. I agree we should get out of here. The Guardians won't be
stopped by a little snow. Not forever."

The woman moved in front of her,
and smiled, her face a hard and brutal mask. Then she turned the air rifle she
had around, holding it like a club.

"Fine. This won't take long.
Ten, twenty minutes, tops." The rifle came down, smashing her in the ribs
on the right hand side. The bullet wound was on the other, but the pain
distracted her for a bit. The second blow did too.

In desperation, she tried to roll
out of the way, but her hands and the pain slowed her down too much.

Tammy screamed at her about it. Like
that
was going to stop her from trying to live?

"Hold still, you
bitch!" She stepped in then, the wood stock aimed at Pran's head.

There was no choice but to move
then, if she wanted to survive. She really did, of course. Even if it meant
courting death, she had to try and live.

It was a thing that anyone would
have done, wasn't it?

She kicked, and rolled, using
Tammy's lead leg to push herself backward, away from the makeshift club. The
woman screamed, but it was a thing of frustration, not pain. Unfortunately.
Still, the next blow that tried to come in missed, and Pran reset, the blinding
pain in her middle not enough to force her to die yet. Eventually, but she had
time. Minutes even. Maybe hours.

It took work, but the next kick
took Tammy down, and she half stood, Dovish walking over to her, laughing. He
grabbed her face with both hands, which didn't hurt, but did let him lead her
around, in pain or not.

"What do you think you're
going to do? Beat us all in a fair fight and then run back to your Guardian
friends? Don't you know, God is on
our
side. He always was. That's why
he
saved
us, so we could come back and return the world to his word.
Christ is your savior. You just have to accept him into your heart!" The
man tossed her down, using her head as leverage, which hurt a lot.

So much so she didn't even
realize that the high pitched thrumming whine she heard was real and not just
because of the pain. When she cleared a bit, she saw the both Dovish and Tammy
were lying on the ground, the man over them holding the sonic weapon that had
been used on her before. When he turned, he pulled his face mask down.

Then she got who it was.
Zeke
.
Ezekiel. She didn't know why it seemed shocking, but it was. The man frowned at
her for a second.

"I
hate
hypocrites.
They'll be out for a while. Let's get that bandaged up and then find someone
that can remove the bullet for you. Do you think you can stand?" He
shrugged, and put the weapon away. "Never mind. I've got this."

He worked quickly then, and got
her hands free with a knife that looked totally wrong for the time they were
in. The handle was a shiny green, which didn't seem to be wood and sure as heck
wasn't a leather wrapping. The thing was sharp though, and she gasped when the
ropes were cut off.

"Um, thanks?" It would
have been nice if he could have acted a little sooner, but there was probably a
reason that he hadn't. The one that came to mind was that he'd wanted to see
what she could manage on her own.

The man nodded, but also ran to
the vehicle, and came back with a red bag that had a white lowercase "T"
on it. That, or a design of some kind. It came to her that she'd seen one of
them before. Being worn by the man in front of her, around his neck.

He saw her looking, but didn't
bother explaining anything to her, just working, first stripping her bare to
the waist, then wrapping the wound quickly, winding white material all the way
around her middle. Then, without bothering to check the wound at all, he gave
her shirt back, then the blanket, and helped her to stand.

"That deal Mike Morse came
up with, it isn't too bad. About half of us are willing to give it a try, but
some are holding grudges. The ones tortured for instance, and their friends. I
can't say that I blame them, but..." He waved at Tammy. "What did you
do to piss her off that much?"

Blinking, Pran realized that
she'd never explained that very clearly to him, back when they'd been on the
ship together. There just hadn't been time for things like that.

"I shot her. Like this...
Pretty much. Except that she was about to kill people, if I didn't, and not
tied up at the time. I think I..." She stopped and took several deep, if
painful, breaths. "I think I have the moral high ground, really.
Now
at least. Dovish is right though. I never would have slept with him. His act
was too good." It wasn't his looks, just the fact that he'd seemed so very
slow.

She shook her head a bit,
wondering what to do next. It was really up to Zeke, she knew.

"Can you get me back to the
city? Or at least to help?" That would work for her, and the man nodded
after a second.

"Yeah. I need to load these
two up. They're dipshits, but on my side. After a fashion."

"Firmament?"

He shook his head, but smiled a
bit.

"Are you
sure
you
aren't one of us? You have way too much information for a local girl. We're
part of a group called Remembrance. Christians, mainly, but we don't hate
everyone else. We just want to have a chance at the life we should have in the
first place. I can't really do it at the expense of everyone else, the real
people, now. Not having met you." He paused, then picked up Dovish, who
wasn't small, and carried him to the vehicle like he was a child. "I don't
mean
you
, personally, but everyone out here. You're all just people. Not
demons that stole our birthright."

That the man had ever thought
that made her think a little bit less of him. Demons? That was insane.

She didn't mention that, since he
was doing all the hard work and still had a good weapon. Making him angry would
be a bad idea.

Instead she stood and limped
toward the front of the vehicle.

"We need to go and get
Donal. If those people hurt him..." If they did, say torture him in
retaliation, that would probably undo everything pretty well. Given that
violence and stupidity seemed to be the Firmament goal, as far as she could
tell, that meant they had every reason to do it as fast as possible.