Chapter Seventeen
On the morning of our fourth day in Frank’s camp, Frank himself finally comes to visit us. When he pulls the tent flaps aside, Naomi cringes, and Melissa and Tobe both start to cry. He doesn’t look at any of them though; he walks straight over to me, and crouches down in front of me.
“How are we feeling?”
He has to already know the answer to that. I can finally see out of my left eye again, but I’m sure it’s still black. I have two swollen and broken fingers on my left hand, and my ribcage, back, and legs are riddled with footprint-shaped bruises. It hurts every time I move, but I refuse to show him that pain; he’ll just get off on it.
I’m not going to answer, and he knows that. It’s the same question he’s asked me several times over the last three days, and I’ve never answered. I don’t think he really expects me too, but he always asks anyways. Every time he checks in on us, which is several times a day.
He doesn’t usually stay long. He just comes in and tests me before leaving again. I’m not sure what the test is, but apparently I fail it every time, and he has to come back and do it again. Naomi’s failed as well. But Melissa and the other blonde pass, and they’re taken out of the tent a few times a day by different Warriors.
Tobe has been tossed aside like trash. Frank and the other Warriors mostly ignore her, and she spends most of her time whimpering in the corner of the tent. She’s completely unresponsive, and nothing I can say gets to her. She just wraps her arms around herself like she’s trying to hold herself together, and I wish I could reach over and comfort her, but I can’t.
My arms are still tied behind my back. One of the Warriors unties me daily to kick me around in an attempt to break me, but I’m always tied right back up. I’ve tried to keep my spirit up, but it’s starting to break. I know it, and so does Frank. I’m not sure if I can stand one more beating or hour without water.
My mouth is bone dry, I have a constant headache, and my heart is racing. My breathing is fast and labored, and Frank told me a few hours ago that I’m developing a fever. I haven’t passed any urine in a while, and that’s not a good sign. My body needs water, and it’s not getting it. If this continues, I’ll be dead in a short while, probably a few more hours.
A quick look at Naomi tells me she isn’t going to last much longer. She’s become as unresponsive as Tobe, but for different reasons. When she does speak she’s delirious and her speech is slurred. If she doesn’t get water soon, I’m afraid she’ll die before she can be broken.
Frank won’t let that happen. He wants her too badly to just let her die of thirst.
Frank snaps his fingers to get my attention, and I lift heavy eyes up to meet his. I’ve been so tired these last few hours, and I know that can be another sign of dehydration. Frank peers down at me and smiles. “You’re wasting away. It’s amazing how long the human body can go without food. Up to three weeks. The amount of time a body can go without water is much, much shorter.”
“If you don’t give me water, I’m going to die,” I rasp. “Naomi too.”
“One woman once went thirteen days without water, though the average is about three. You’re tough. I think you can handle another day or two before it gets really serious.”
I don’t answer him. Conserving my energy is more important right now than making conversation with a monster like Frank. He’s just playing games anyways. If he allowed it, he could have three or more Warriors just come in here, hold me down, and let them do whatever they wanted with me. But he won’t do that. He’s purposely waiting for me to give up, because he gets some sick pleasure from this.
“Hmm,” he says, lifting my chin. “I think you’re finally ready. Let’s test that, shall we?”
He takes a knife from his pocket and cuts the rope that binds my hands to the pole. I slump forward, too tired to even move, though I desperately want to. I want to kick and scream and punch him, but I just don’t have the energy to move, and he knows that.
He chuckles, and lifts me to my feet. Then he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder. Panic starts to set in and I finally realize what he’s doing. He’s taking me to one of the other tents, and I won’t be the same when I come back. I know that, because I’m too exhausted and weak to fight off any attack.
Frank carries me into a nearby tent that has only a large air mattress and a pile of blankets. The second I see that mattress, my mind kicks into escape mode, and I start to kick and thrash as hard as I possibly can. But my movements feel jerky, weak, and slow, and Frank can easily fight me off. When he reaches the mattress he pauses, and throws me down onto it.
I try to scramble off the mattress, but Frank steps on one of my thighs, holding me in place. He drops down to the mattress and straddles my legs, and pins my arms above my head. His hands are large enough to hold both of my wrists above me, leaving one hand free to undo my jeans.
I thrash and kick and scream, but nobody comes to rescue me. Frank just smiles, and slides my jeans down around my ankles, before setting his knees on the insides of my thighs. He forces them apart, and I try to fight him, but it’s no use. He’s much larger than me, much stronger than me, and he knows what he wants.
I can’t believe this is happening!
Frank leans over and whispers, “I’m gonna enjoy this.”
When he pulls away, I do the only thing I can think. I slam my head forward, colliding with his forehead. Pain radiates down my eyes and nose, and my vision goes hazy for a second, but Frank’s grip loosens just enough. I slip my hands free and hit Frank as hard as I can, which isn’t very hard. His nose starts to bleed and he sits back, giving me just enough room to free my leg.
I bring my foot up and kick him in the face, breaking his nose. Blood spurts everywhere, dripping down the front of his shirt until it’s soaked, and I roll off the air mattress. I hit the ground hard, trapping my arm at an unnatural angle, and I whimper in pain.
Frank recovers just as I get to my feet, and he lunges for me. His hands close around my ankles, and he drags me to the ground again. His hands creep up my legs, and the nails dig into the flesh of my thighs, leaving bloody marks behind. He crawls up to my neck, “You’re not getting away that easy, bitch.”
He grabs a fistful of my hair and drags me to my knees. I try to pull away, but his hold on me is so tight I can’t break it without ripping out half of my hair. Instead of trying to force his hands to let go, I punch for the only thing I can reach: his groin.
He grunts in pain, and his hand lets go of my hair. I crawl away on my hands and knees, unable to find the strength to stand. Just as I reach the closed tent flaps, the gunfire starts. My first thought is that someone is executing Tobe or Melissa because they stopped fighting, but then I hear return gunfire, and screams of pain. Male screams of pain.
Zombies…
Frank pauses when the gunfire starts, and he looks uncertain. He’s not sure whether he wants to stay and finish with me, or go see what’s going on. If this decision is hard for him, he’s even crazier than I thought if he’s willing to risk the lives of most of his men just to teach me a lesson.
He snarls, and grabs me by the ankles before hauling me back towards the mattress. I kick and scream, trying to free myself, but it’s no use. Frank’s mind is made up; this is what he’s going to do, even if it kills us both. He throws me back down to the mattress and unbuttons his pants.
The gunfire gets louder and closer, and I know that whatever’s out there right now is heading this way. If it’s zombies, I’ll be eaten alive in the next few minutes, hopefully before Frank can finish whatever he plans to do to me. If it’s raiders of some kind, I’ll probably end up in a similar predicament later, just with more sane people.
Frank drops down to the mattress and pins my arms to my sides.
I whimper, “Please, don’t do this,” I beg.
He smiles. “Begging won’t save you now.”
“No, but I will,” Ryder says, stepping into the tent.