The black-eyed man and his minion, the one called, Minton walked into the small clearing and there was another with them, Julio. He would be the death dealer today. In her heart she knew it to be true because he had the look of evil riding his dark face.
Her feet went numb and her vision swam as fear thrummed through her veins. It was potent and even as the cold settled over her, her bladder leaked, the wetness a frigid serpent down her leg. Her hands knotted into fists.
“Ibadti et haderekh sheli,” Bone whispered. I am lost.
“Come to me, Mama, from the very blue sky,” Ninka said in a fading, hoarse whisper.
Ninka was shavur. Broken. The weakest one of them had splintered under the force of the black-eyed man’s training and Bone’s belly burned. It was a cold fire but it blazed brightly.
The fog left a sheen on the grass that held her gaze captive. The dew was so thick it fell to the parched earth at Bone’s feet, mocking her. Even the dew was free to go where it would. Her ears rang in the sudden cacophony of silence.
“She’s tiny, Minton, but she’s survived.” The black-eyed devil said to his minion. Then to Bullet he said, “Tell me, dove, did you stay silent?”
Do not speak, Bullet. Do not, achot.
Bullet nodded her head and the black-eyed man smiled. He had been there with Minton the night her parents had been slaughtered like sheep in front of her. He had given the order. Minton had carried it out with a smile on his face much like the one the black-eyed man had now.
They would both pay. She would break them into tiny pieces and eat their flesh so they did not rise again and they never knew another life. She had not been taught the softer emotions like love, but she knew possession, revenge, and pain well. They’d been her mother’s milk and daily bread. The black-eyed man and Minton would eventually benefit from her rations.
“Minton, have Julio take care of little Ninka, would you?” the black-eyed man asked.
“She’s such a waste,” Minton spat and his eyes tracked to Bone. “Julio, you heard him.”
Bone stared at him, her belly still burning, her throat closing in rage. His gaze skated away from hers and she knew in that second that she would be the one of them to kill Minton—maybe she would even take him first so the black-eyed man would know she was coming. One day…
Julio moved, breaking her line of sight to Minton. And so it began, Ninka’s death walk. If she could remember her people’s death prayer she would speak it now but the verses were as leaves tossed in the wind of her memory, brittle and scattered.
They were only words anyway. They meant nothing. But she could give the weakest of them all something as she left this world. Bone could be a witness to her passing and later give a testament to the girl’s walk. Ninka had broken last night though she’d been splintered all along. The cracks miniscule then widening under the force of the black-eyed man’s will.
He had known what he was doing as he destroyed her. It was in every glance, every word he wrote in his little red book. He watched them all, always. Bone felt his attention in her sleep. But today he would shape the rest of them and little Ninka would be his tool.
Ninka would be their Hell and the fires of her death would forge them. She wondered if the man realized what he was setting into motion. She shook her head as much as her tied hair would allow. He did not. If he did, he wouldn’t do this thing here today.
Ninka cried out and Bone’s gaze narrowed on Julio. She couldn’t watch the broken one—it would make her mad. As twisted and crazy as Julio perhaps. His black eyes were bright with pleasure. Bone’s stomach heaved, the ropes digging deep as her body tightened in primal fear and the need to act, to move and help Ninka.
Her stare remained on Julio but Ninka’s wheat-colored hair flailed, catching on his rough clothes as her cries turned to grunts of pain.
“You’re such a stupid child! Why can’t you learn to be quiet?” he yelled at her, his words stuttered and deep.
He was shaking Ninka, breaking her body to match her mind. The hate rose, coloring Bone’s world, outlining Julio in the shade of her parents’ blood. He threw Ninka to the ground, stepped back, his breathing harsh but a smile on his face.
He kicked her. The tiny child’s indrawn breath reverberated through her mind, sinking into her heart and ripping a hole. She couldn’t force air into her lungs but it was Ninka who coughed, blood flying from her mouth.
“Help me, Bullet,” Ninka cried out and reached for the one she clung to in the night.
More than any other Ninka had relied on Bullet, climbing into bed with her while Bullet held her close. They all provided rations but Bullet had provided more. Bullet’s pain at this loss would be great, maybe greater than all of theirs combined.
Bone didn’t look at Bullet, there was no reason. Bone had already decided Minton and the black-eyed man were going to die—it was only a matter of when. Besides, Bullet would do what she would and if the gun was in her hands no one could stop her.