Trigger warning
"We can't help, Saija," Marcus said softly, suddenly understanding what she truly desired.
Saija's teary eyes were pleading, her finger pointed, nearly begging him for them to do something. Her desperation was palpable, hanging heavy in the air.
"There's probably a herd of em... We're outnumbered... this here is life in these parts... now get back to work."
He looked down to fasten his belt, his heart heavy with the weight of the situation. There was no way in hell he was gonna punish her for having a good intention. But as soon as he walked back toward his shovel, the sound of pattering feet fleeing in the gravel reached his ears.
"Saija!" he bellowed, but she had already taken off, her shovel in hand, determined to make a difference.
"FUCK!" he snarled and ran to his cart, the sense of urgency gripping him as he retrieved his knife and keys. He then took off after her, praying no one stole the rusnine, the chaotic scene unfolding before his eyes.
She was much faster and more agile than he was, and he found himself struggling to close any distance.
She reached the abandoned building and was out of sight in a matter of seconds, and his heart pounded with dread.
"Saija, no, come back!" he screamed after her, but it fell on deaf ears.
He was livid now. His blood was no longer pumping blood but molten lava.
He reached the building and followed the sounds of the screaming woman, which, to his horror, ceased and turned into the sound of a shovel banging, the scuffling of feet, men laughing, and then Saija whining.
Before he could come up with a plan to save her, he had already turned a corner and was met with a sight that perforated his very soul.
Not one, not two, not even four, but six grisly men were huddled in the corner of a desolate room with shattered windows. The scent of sweat, dust, and piss filled the air. The grimy floor was layered with filthy blankets, empty bags, a few canteens, and Saija's shovel.
Splayed out on the floor was a woman, barely moving, blood smeared on her thighs where her pants were ripped off.
One of the men had Saija gripped by her shirt, his fingers digging into the fabric, holding her suspended in the air as their eyes all shifted to Marcus in the door frame. They all slowly dispersed slightly, making Marcus feel even more outnumbered and cornered.
Marcus, wielding his knife, slowly took a few shaky steps forward, then outreached his hand for Saija.
"I just want my boy," he explained in a strained voice, desperately trying to mask his fear, finding it near possible.
The man holding Saija had a sick smirk on his face, his teeth revealing an even sicker shade of decay. He suddenly plopped Saija straight on the ground, constricting Marcus's stomach with anger and worry.
She groaned as she hit the floor, a cloud of dust poofing in the air.
Marcus ground out his words, his seething eyes never leaving the delinquents, "Sean. Come. Now."
Saija looked back and forth between Marcus and the vile man still looming over her.
"Now!" Marcus growled.
She jumped to her feet and began scampering away, only to come face-planting painfully back into the ground, the impact jolting her entire body.
The man had swung his foot out and cruelly tripped her.
YOU ARE READING
The Bitter Truth
General Fiction"Do ya like it?" he asked, eager to know her thoughts. She nodded, her eyes honestly drinking in every detail of the beautiful world just beyond her fingertips. "Imma gets us there one day, Saija," he spoke softly. She tried to hide it, but a smile...
