James

Michael looks me up and down. “You fit to walk?”

“I’ll manage.”

He gives a short jerk of his head and turns to Charlotte, arms outstretched. “You walk. I’ll carry Cara for you.”

She retreats, clutching Cara to herself, shrieking. “No!”

Michael steps back, holding up his palms. “Whoa… Calm down. It’s me. What do you think I’m going to do?”

She bursts into tears. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”

He takes a step closer, moving carefully. “Charlotte, we have to leave. I’m not sure you can carry Cara and walk too.”

“No.” She swings her head in denial, tries to step out, then totters, Cara still tight to her chest.

Michael exchanges a look with me, shaking his head, then he moves in… “Hold on to Cara.” …. sweeping her up. His voice changes to a kind of fake yokel accent. “Come, Mr Frodo!” he says. “I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you.”

She gives him a watery smile. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that. You’ll be fine when we’ve got you home and rested up for a few days.”

Klempner shoves a knife into his belt. Another into the top of his boot. A handgun into a pocket. Then, picking up his SMG, “We need to get moving. I'll go to the front. Michael, you with Jenny in between. James, cover our backs.”

*****

Michael

My arms full of Charlotte, we clear the first flight of stairs to the corridor of ‘cells’. “Klempner, we should release the other women.”

double-takes at me, then looking along the passage and its barred

Once we're out, you can sing to the world about what's in here, but

Finchby and Baxter could have murdered

represents his working stock. His property. He’ll not be eager to get rid of them. What’s your priority, Michael? We have

running around the place, creating chaos, trying to escape, is likely to make our

pauses, shoots me a calculating look. “Sold to the man with the highest bid. Get on with it then. You got those

downstairs somewhere. But I do have my axe. James, can you take Charlotte

to him, clinging to his Cara with one hand, waving a gun in the

unslinging the axe from my shoulders, I aim… swing… and strike at the first padlock. The angle’s a little wrong.

this

and after a brief struggle with the

babbling something at me. Dark-haired and eyed, fair-skinned,

her, “Quick,

Charlotte and Cara.

quer partir? Venha conosco.” He

a breath, then scrabbling up, dashes out, joining

short with her. “Nós estamos indo embora. Você quer ajudar?” He jabs a finger to me… “Ajudem-no.” Then he stands

the padlock, she darts inside, gesturing me on to the next.

on the shoulder. “Keep at it. I’ll see if I can find those keys. Back in

to share a language, but all come bursting from their grim prisons, flooding down the cells. A couple of boys emerge

the keys, thrusting them into the hands of the first woman we released. “Abre as

at his sleeve. “Onde

Em toda parte. Eles não

“What are you saying?”

Finchby can’t catch all of them and Baxter

the final door

Gunshots…

scatter. Splitting and flowing one way and the other; maybe thirty of them, running as if the

yells, “Suba

arrived at the cell

Klempner needs you with a gun in your hand. Charlotte, give James yours. Arm around my neck. I need you to

gives me a dry

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