Read Online Last Rites by Kim Paffenroth - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kim Paffenroth
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and it wouldn’t be so bad. A sideways glance at CJ and she thought no, she’d never get that lucky. There’d be plenty of bastards smart enough to make life wretched and degrading. There always were. Besides, weak people were a threat, too: they herded together, and thought even less of what they did and why. That made them the most dangerous of all, in some ways.
Lucy turned back toward the ship and helped Will pull Truman up onto the dock as well. He was all that had made her hesitate below. She didn’t know if he could make it, being around harsh, brutal people. But on the other hand, he was smart in his own way, and he was so docile it might actually be easier on him. They’d heap more shit on him, sure, but they wouldn’t be so skittish around him that they’d blow him away in a panic. Probably just make him push a broom around for fat, lazy people half as smart as he is. He’d be okay, and probably wouldn’t get as angry over it as she’d already gotten. How’d that saying go? The weak shall rule the earth? Something like that. It seemed true in his case.
Lucy tensed at the sound of clanking chains. Two of the younger men were approaching with wooden poles about four feet long. A short chain attached a collar to the end of each one.
The one named Terry raised his shotgun.
“You collared ‘em before, kid?” CJ asked.
Will took the collars in his hands, looking disgusted with their dirty leather and metal clasps. “No, we don’t use these.”
“You hill people are so crazy,” CJ replied. “I don’t know how you do it. But they haven’t bitten you yet, so I figure you can get ‘em collared easier than one of us trying it. They’ll be spooked enough when we get ‘em to their new place. So go ahead.”
Will approached Lucy with the collar and put it around her neck. He leaned close to her left shoulder to lock the clasp. The leather was cold and slippery—not just from the rain, Lucy felt, but from all the blood and grease it had scraped from hundreds like her. She bared her teeth at the young man holding her pole. His eyes widened and he opened his mouth slightly.
Will moved in front of her so she couldn’t see the coward on the other end of the pole. Will’s eyes met hers again as he tightened the strap.
“Tighten that strap more, kid,” CJ said. “I don’t want her wriggling out, and we both know she’s a limber gal—and quick. And you know damn well she don’t breathe, so don’t have any hard feelings about it. Get to it.”
The strap constricted around Lucy’s throat. It didn’t hurt too much, though it still took every bit of her self-control to keep from telling these scared little shits to go fuck themselves.
“I’m so sorry,” Will whispered. His eyes were wet. Lucy again thought she had chosen right.
Will moved over to put the other collar on Truman.
“Good,” CJ said; he didn’t seem as concerned with the security of his collar. “Cuffs next. Terry?”
Shotgun at his hip, the cute one approached, holding out some black iron manacles with his other hand. Will took them. Lucy remembered seeing handcuffs before—shiny metal rings with a chain between them. These ones were crude, and perhaps homemade—just curved metal bands that locked together with bolts.
Lucy held her hands out in front of herself, and Will sniffled a bit as he cuffed her. It took him awhile. Then he moved to cuff Truman.
When he finished, the men forced them around, the collars scraping and tearing at their necks. Truman nearly fell to his knees as they manhandled him. Lucy reached to help him up, but they yanked her away. She growled, but stopped herself. The men started to push them up the dock.
“All right, kid,” Lucy heard CJ say behind her. “Ambulance will be here any minute. I hope your girlfriend makes it.”
And that was that. The two of them were now under the control of these savage idiots, being pushed toward some lights up ahead. When they got to the illuminated area,
Lucy turned back toward the ship and helped Will pull Truman up onto the dock as well. He was all that had made her hesitate below. She didn’t know if he could make it, being around harsh, brutal people. But on the other hand, he was smart in his own way, and he was so docile it might actually be easier on him. They’d heap more shit on him, sure, but they wouldn’t be so skittish around him that they’d blow him away in a panic. Probably just make him push a broom around for fat, lazy people half as smart as he is. He’d be okay, and probably wouldn’t get as angry over it as she’d already gotten. How’d that saying go? The weak shall rule the earth? Something like that. It seemed true in his case.
Lucy tensed at the sound of clanking chains. Two of the younger men were approaching with wooden poles about four feet long. A short chain attached a collar to the end of each one.
The one named Terry raised his shotgun.
“You collared ‘em before, kid?” CJ asked.
Will took the collars in his hands, looking disgusted with their dirty leather and metal clasps. “No, we don’t use these.”
“You hill people are so crazy,” CJ replied. “I don’t know how you do it. But they haven’t bitten you yet, so I figure you can get ‘em collared easier than one of us trying it. They’ll be spooked enough when we get ‘em to their new place. So go ahead.”
Will approached Lucy with the collar and put it around her neck. He leaned close to her left shoulder to lock the clasp. The leather was cold and slippery—not just from the rain, Lucy felt, but from all the blood and grease it had scraped from hundreds like her. She bared her teeth at the young man holding her pole. His eyes widened and he opened his mouth slightly.
Will moved in front of her so she couldn’t see the coward on the other end of the pole. Will’s eyes met hers again as he tightened the strap.
“Tighten that strap more, kid,” CJ said. “I don’t want her wriggling out, and we both know she’s a limber gal—and quick. And you know damn well she don’t breathe, so don’t have any hard feelings about it. Get to it.”
The strap constricted around Lucy’s throat. It didn’t hurt too much, though it still took every bit of her self-control to keep from telling these scared little shits to go fuck themselves.
“I’m so sorry,” Will whispered. His eyes were wet. Lucy again thought she had chosen right.
Will moved over to put the other collar on Truman.
“Good,” CJ said; he didn’t seem as concerned with the security of his collar. “Cuffs next. Terry?”
Shotgun at his hip, the cute one approached, holding out some black iron manacles with his other hand. Will took them. Lucy remembered seeing handcuffs before—shiny metal rings with a chain between them. These ones were crude, and perhaps homemade—just curved metal bands that locked together with bolts.
Lucy held her hands out in front of herself, and Will sniffled a bit as he cuffed her. It took him awhile. Then he moved to cuff Truman.
When he finished, the men forced them around, the collars scraping and tearing at their necks. Truman nearly fell to his knees as they manhandled him. Lucy reached to help him up, but they yanked her away. She growled, but stopped herself. The men started to push them up the dock.
“All right, kid,” Lucy heard CJ say behind her. “Ambulance will be here any minute. I hope your girlfriend makes it.”
And that was that. The two of them were now under the control of these savage idiots, being pushed toward some lights up ahead. When they got to the illuminated area,
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