FireSweet

Blood Thicker than Water, NOT

When I came to, I was lying among a bunch of rocks.  The sky was a blinding shade of blue and the grass was unusually soft and springy.  That was definitely strange.  It wasn’t like the woods I had left back at the Effugere camp.  This was a relatively open space and far too warm to be situated in New York.  I sat up slowly, holding my head gingerly.  The back of it felt like it was pulsing beneath my hand from the pain of cracking it against the stone floor of the cavern.  I thought about the strange room again, wondering if this was all some kind of a sick joke.  I stopped mid-thought, staring at my arm.  My clothing had changed.  I was now in some low cut flowing white shirt.  It was a little rough, but still seemed like it could be cotton.  My jeans were gone.  In their place were some black shorts, just standard black.  They extended to just above my knees.  I was barefoot.  I resisted the urge to shout in laughter.  I looked like a homeless bum from the revolutionary era.  My hair was a crazy wreck too, not that I cared.  I smiled to myself, thinking of all the ways to kill Max for putting me in this situation.  I rose to my feet with a smile on my face, but it promptly disappeared when I felt something fall from my lap.  I looked down and just before me was my mother’s kitchen knife, the one I had stolen from her butcher block and packed in my suitcase.  The suitcase I had stashed away in my cabin… Yet here it was, real as my heartbeat.  I picked it up tentatively, holding up to the sunlight.  It gleamed brightly, honed to a lethal looking point.  It was the sharpest I had seen it in my life, a totally different condition then when I had pulled it from the knife block.  I stared at in disbelief completely at loss as to what was going on and where I was. 

            As I stood there I realized that there were other people in this place, dressed similar to me.   Most were guys but there were one or two other girls.  Every one of them had some form of sword or knife thrust into a sash at their waist.  Some had on bandanas or matching sashes, but every one of them were totally at ease here, wherever ‘here’ was.  Most of them were unfamiliar to me, deeply sun tanned and alert.  They bore looks on most of their countenances that told me not to approach them.  But there was one familiar face in the crowd. I spotted my brother Max with a blue bandana around his forehead.  He was with several other blue bandanas, but I really didn’t care.  He was obviously the one that had gotten me into this mess, and he would be the one to divulge the information I needed. 

            I casually jogged after the guys, not wanting to look out of place or scared.  Max saw me coming for them and motioned for his buddies to go on without him.  He approached me quickly, looking around to see who was watching us.  He pulled me behind a rock and firmly clamped his hand over my mouth.

            “I want you to listen now and listen real good,” he said.  “I am not your brother here, there are no tag-a-longs allowed in this world.  If you want something, figure it out for yourself, but don’t come crying to me for help because I will not be there for you.  Do you understand?”

 I looked at him with what I had hoped was fire in my eyes, but I think I just succeeded in looking even more confused.

He ignored me and went on.  “And whatever you do, do not ever call me by what you believe is my name.  My name is Red, do not ever call me by anything else or you will regret being born, and that’s a fact.  You cannot be called by your real name here, or its game over.  Only ever call me Red.” 

            His buddies chose this moment to walk around the rock back to where I was being held.  Max/Red released me before they saw and shot me one last warning look.  Clearly I was to say nothing.   The first of his buddies snickered when he saw me, “Hey Red!  Who’s your wench?” he asked. 

“I dunno, she’s new, crewless and unprotected.  I was just showing her around,” Red said, nonchalant and casual with the lie.

The guy looked at my brother, a laughing gleam in his eyes that made me want to turn and run away.  “Well could I get in on your showing-around party?  Or are you trying to keep such a fine specimen all to yourself?”  He played with my hair and brushed my face as he spoke about me.  Each of his last words were spaced apart and very punctuated, danger dripping from his voice.