"What is there to do?" another moaned.
Annabell saw three young girls among those remaining. Two clear-faced, untouched girls and one, who, like Annabell had taken a blow to the face. She stood a little off to the side, no mother guarding her. Her eyes vacant. They were not the prettiest of girls, but the raiders wanted young and fresh. These children represented that.
*
The next night, five were chosen. Annabell realized that one of them was the young orphan girl her brother had hired, locked up with her the whole time. Trapped without food or water, Annabell had no strength in her limb and could barely hold onto reality. Seeing the girl's face reminded her where she was, what had happened, the deaths, and she acted out in a burst of anger, clawing at the hands that grabbed at her, trying to escape. It had no effect at all.
Annabell wasn't sure she resisted. Maybe it was all an illusion in her head.
She and the other four women were taken to the side of the bakehouse. "You can drink something. Eat quick. And get inside and do what women do. I'm watching you," a raider directed, pushing them in front of the big water barrels.
There were foreign men everywhere. Bigger, thicker than the village men, armed and sneering, they moved in and out of the small back door of the Gathering Lodge to the bakehouse and nearby buildings. Annabell saw two men drag an unconscious woman by the arms out the door of the lodge and across the road, into a cottage that belonged to the baker’s family. When she took a step in that direction, another man waved at her with the long stick of his weapon, keeping her from following.
Using the bake house as their kitchen, the raiders stacked stolen food haphazardly everywhere—inside, outside, along the walls, and on a long table. Incongruous with the insane chaos was the perfectly mundane and real smell of cooking meat and baking bread. Annabell's mouth watered, reminding her she was still alive.
A deep laugh made her turn. A shirtless man sat on a chair at the front corner of the building, a curvy blonde woman on his lap. Annabell's head snapped around to look at her.
Was it?
It was Lurann, Kejere's wife.
The raider scum shouted, "Find more flour. Make some more of that good, white bread. Get some more jars of those sweet things, the men like those."
Annabell couldn't look in that direction. His hands were on Lurann, squeezing, pinching.
A village woman stumbled out of the back door of the lodge, her breasts free of her top, her face flushed red in a wild halo of her curly hair. Kate, the seamstress. To the nearest man, she said, "Your boss wants more food and those bottles you found today."
"Well, go and get some!" he yelled. His hand sank down into Lurann's top, squeezing as his lips slobbered at her neck.
Lurann squealed.
He laughed as he stood, pushing her away at the same time, "You better go on in and help."
Hand at her neck where the man had his mouth, Lurann stood still for just a moment, breathing deep.
Annabell saw the blood where he had bitten her. And watched, confused, as Lurann turned back to the drunken man, her eye's big and shiny, and gave him an almost-smile that froze him where he stood. His eyes ran over her from head to foot, as if he'd not seen her before.
The exchange looked like a flirtation.
When Lurann turned back, she noticed Annabell standing there. "Annabell. Kejere was so worried."
"Everyone is dead." Annabell didn't know what else to say.
"Who gave you permission to stop and chat, woman? If you are getting food for Boss, then go get food. And you? If you aren't going to eat, then you need to get in the kitchen and do what Dag tells you. You aren't here to just stand around. Get moving." The man next to the lodge door interrupted.
He had a dangerous-looking weapon slung across his chest. Annabell had never seen a gun firsthand, but she was sure that thing, with its hand stock and barrel end, must be the first. Of average height and size, with skin that looked yellowed in the flicker of the evening lamps, the stranger had a human shape and face, but the corruption of his murderous attitude transformed him into a monster. Surrounded by monsters and their victims, she could not get her head clear enough to figure out what to do about it.
"What are you going to do, Annabell Roe?"Mama demanded.
Before Annabell finished getting food and water, Lurann returned from the Gathering Lodge to get more food. She went right to Annabell. "What happened to your face? Have they raped you? Never mind."
She stood close, reached for Annabell, grabbed the back of her head with her right hand and put her fingers over Annabell's nose with her right. "Be quiet while I do this. I don't have much time. You don't want their attention."
Annabell opened her mouth to ask but Lurann put her in a vice of pain, pushing on the bruised, sore flesh of her nose. It hurt. Stars bursting in her vision. Opening her mouth to protest, Lurann kicked her in the knee, still pushing, her whisper harsh. "Be quiet!"
Blackness clouding the edges of her vision, Annabell tried to push the blonde away. But Lurann had finished. She stepped back, flashing a grim smile, her eyes on the fresh blood dripping down to Annabell's chin. "That will serve you well. And I think I've set it too. Boss is serious about getting all the women first and only taking pretty. And once he has had his run, he tosses you to his wolves. I've seen four women die. Kejere told me to take care of you. That is the best I can do."
Then she was turning, going for another tray to take into the Gathering Lodge.
