My Darkening Ember

Chapter Nine

They called him Djevel, abiding by his every command. His men feared him more than they respected him. Everyone knew, even at his age, he could probably kill every single one of them within a few minutes. Even Bronson, who was of a bigger build, would cower like a dog every time he spoke.

They only gave me water a few times a day. The duty fell to a skinny man named Lee.

He was gentle when he poured the water into my mouth, even drying the drops on my chin with his sleeve. He wasn't like the others.

Lee was a coward. Loyal and silent. There was no rage in him, just a silent man, maybe even a broken man. But he gave me water and even a few pieces of bread when Djevel wasn't looking. It's not that I think they wanted to starve me because they fed me at night when we gathered around the fire. But the small bones with thin meat from a bird they had shot down weren't nearly enough to silence my gut. So Lee slipped me the bread. I knew if Djevel saw he would probably punish him for being weak. Lee didn't speak but just stared with his deep brown eyes and within them, I saw a man who didn't know himself. A man who had gone numb from time. Only the gods knew what he must've seen to silence him like that.

I had worked them out by now. Even spent two days memorizing their rank within their wild pack of dogs.

Djevel, the Mile man, a trained killer and their leader. 

Bronson, who could snap my neck with his bare hands, had several times yanked me by my arms to drag me places or kicked me to the ground. He acted as the second in command, although he didn't command much. 

The greasy-haired guy who went by the name Sal. There wasn't much about him other than his brags that he was good with a gun. All he was good for though was finishing a bottle. 

Thomson was the dangerous fool whose loyalty could be easily forgotten with a bit of whisky. He was the one who looked at me every so often, with a perverted lust that made me shiver. 

Lee, the silent comrade who seemed like he had no one else but these men, and then the last one.

The fifth man was different. His hair was dirty blonde reaching down to his neck. An undercut was exposed when his hair occasionally flipped to the side. His eyes were brown and narrow. He looked young, very young, almost my age if I would guess. He wore a scarf over his face, only revealing those brown eyes. They called him Will when joking with him, although he never laughed. He would keep close, and I felt unease or maybe even an unwillingness in him that I sensed Djevel suspected too. But Will didn't speak much, and his eyes only ever gazed at me once.

Five henchmen, one Mile man, and me, their prisoner. This time any plan of escaping just seemed to fail in my head. I had barely succeeded in overpowering Xander and that took hours of convincing him that I wasn't a threat. This time was different.

Djevel already knew I was slippery. If I could escape someone who was supposedly the best, I would most likely try again. Maybe that was why he never let go of the rope, and why he always had at least one of his men ride by my side. I felt safer when it was Lee, or even Will because I knew they wouldn't bother me. Sal would make comments so vile it made me nauseous.

Misogynistic ass.

Thomson just stared and occasionally licked his lips. I think it had become a habit for him. Djevel never called on Bronson and I almost wanted to thank him for it.

The sun was scorching and the day was nearly spent. My steps were heavy and I was so dehydrated and sunburned, my lips were peeling. The direction we were walking in had me confused. We were headed the same way Xander had gone. Not south, which was comforting. Even with their cruelty, I would rather have their company than Colts.