Find the Woman

By Ann Stratton

Ben Fewfeathers has vowed to find General Asher’s favorite woman and bring her back home. If he does that, the general will reward him with everything he’s ever dreamed about. So Ben followed her into this hot, dry, empty wasteland, populated by lowlifes who won’t give him the respect he is due. How can he hunt the woman down, fight his way past all these obstacles, and bring her back so he can get his rightful rewards?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ann Stratton
• Release date: Aug 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005771089

Ann Stratton

Ann Stratton started writing at age thirteen with the usual results. After a long stint in fan fiction, honing her skills, she hopes she has gotten better since then. She lives in Southeastern Arizona, trying to juggle all her varied interests. 

Book preview

Find the Woman

The Smashwords Edition

Ann Stratton

A Blind Woman Production publication

Copyright © 2020 Ann Stratton

To give the reader more of a sample, the front matter appears at the end.

* * *

* 1 *

Ben Fewfeathers looked at the fence. The sergeant called it chain link when they found the twisted wires in rubble. The chain link fence was wired to metal posts. It stretched from far in the distance on the one side. It stretched far in the distance to the other side. It was too far to walk. Getting around it took too long. He had to go over or under it. The chain link was right on the ground. He couldn’t get under it.

He took hold of the chain link. He shook it. It rattled. It didn’t give. He took hold of a metal post. He shook it. It didn’t move. The post was solid. He couldn’t break it.

He looked through the fence. The dirt on the other side was dug up. He looked past the dug up dirt. The sun made his eyes hurt. He saw dark smudges against the paler land. Something moved. He looked harder. He pressed his face into the chain link.

The moving thing looked like a standing person. Was it her? He couldn’t tell. He had to go look.

He put his hands on the top of the fence. He started to pull himself up. The whole section just pulled over. It wouldn’t support him. He let go of the fence. He looked along it again. No way to get over. No way to get under. No way to get through. No way to get around.

He went to the nearest post. He took a firm grip on the fence on either side of it. He set his toe in one of the links. He lifted himself up. The pack on his back made him almost fall over backward. He wasn’t about to leave it. He shoved. He kicked. He swore. The hot wire cut and burned his toes and fingers. The wire sticking out grabbed his pants. He dropped down into the dirt on the other side. He breathed hard.

He pulled out his canteen. He took a drink. He only wet his mouth. He didn’t want to drain the bottle. He didn’t know when he would get more. The heat made him dizzy and sick. Only weaklings got dizzy and sick.

The dug up dirt grabbed his feet. It slowed him down. He kicked dirt out of his way. He saw damp dirt under the dry dirt. The dug up dirt ended on a packed dirt road. The next patch of dug up dirt had little green things poking out of the ground.

He looked along the dirt road. He shaded his eyes. The road didn’t go where he wanted to go. It went along between the two patches of dug up dirt. He looked at the dark smudges again. The moving thing was gone.

The dark smudges might be buildings. Buildings might have supplies. He could get some shade, maybe. Ben wet his mouth again. He didn’t drink the whole bottle. He put it back. He started kicking across the patch of dirt with the green things. He kicked the dirt hard. It flew away from his feet. It carried the green things. Underneath the dirt here was damp. Maybe there was water not far away.

The next patch of dirt had green things in it too. He liked the way they flew away from his feet when he kicked them. Someone yelled, What are you doing!

Ben’s heart almost stopped. He grabbed for his rifle. It almost choked him as he got it off his shoulder. He aimed it at the raggedy man charging toward him on the dirt road. The raggedy man was black as mud. He was a nigger! The nigger stopped. The flash of fear on his monkey face steadied Ben’s nerves.

The nigger raised his hands. What are you doing? he yelled. Why can’t you walk on the roads? Why do you have to mess up the fields like that!

Hey, I’m askin’ the questions here, Ben said. It was a good thing to be in control. He didn’t have any ammo for the rifle. The nigger didn’t know that. He looked afraid. Ben was glad. Niggers were cowards and animals. If you didn’t show them who was top dog right away, they would turn on you in an instant. Where’s the woman?

The nigger looked stupid. What woman? Get out of the field!

You don’t tell me nothin’ but what I want to know, Ben told him. Shut up about your stupid field. Where’s the woman?

There is no woman! And you are destroying the crop!

Ben stepped closer. He poked the rifle at the nigger. The nigger backed away. He looked scared. Ben was glad. I’m gonna ask one more time and then I’m gonna start shootin’. Where’s the woman? I know she’s here. I followed her this far. Where is she?

The nigger stood up straight. There. Is. No. Woman. Get it through your head, and get out of my field.

Ben put pure meanness on his face. He put the rifle to his shoulder. He sighted down it. He placed his finger on the trigger. The nigger looked scared. Ben felt glad. The rifle wasn’t loaded. The nigger didn’t know that. He could beat the nigger’s head in for getting in his way—

Don’t. Something touched his head. Put the gun down. Ben turned his eyeballs in that direction. The gun was too far behind him to see who was holding it. Take your finger off the trigger, and lay the gun on the ground, slowly. Then get on your knees and put your hands behind your head. Slowly.

I’ll kill him, he said. He squeezed ever so gently.

No, you won’t. If he dies, you die, and not quickly either. Put it down.

Ben could take him out with the rifle easy. He lowered the rifle slowly. He put his hands on the hot barrel. He set his feet and swung hard. Dirt filled his mouth and nose before he got the butt off the ground. A huge weight on his back kept him face down and helpless.

He kicked. He yelled. He tried to shove himself out from under. He couldn’t move, clawing at the dirt. The weight on his back shifted to keep him down.

Stupid shit, the gunman said. You okay, Joe?

Yeah, the nigger said. He didn’t sound afraid any more. Ben wanted to get up and smash his black face in. Look what he did to my fields! I’ll have to replant, and that takes seed we won’t have! Dammit, look, he climbed over the fence and cut right through all three fields. That’s three fields I have to replant now. The nigger growled. Stupid shit. Where did he come from?

A hand grabbed Ben’s hair. The hand jerked his head. The hand jerked at his shirt. It pulled the sleeves up to show the tattoos on his arms. Hunh. Look what we have here, boys and girls, a city boy. A gang banger. A little off your turf, aren’t you, boy?

Criélos forever! Ben screamed. He fought hard. The weight on his back shifted to keep up with him. I’ll kill you all!

The gunman laughed. It wasn’t a nice laugh. What a prize we have here. Alice is going to have her hands full, taming this one. Okay, Manny, hold on to him. Dee, give me a hand here, get this pack off. Watch for weapons. These little shits always have some kind of shiv somewhere.

Ben wiggled. He kicked. He told them what he would do to them. This Manny asshole never let go. They took the backpack. Hands felt every part of his body, I mean EVERY part. The fucking animals groped his dick and ass hard. They took everything in his pockets. Finally, Manny stood him up. Manny kept hold of his wrists and neck. Ben couldn’t move if Manny didn’t want him to.

Well, that’s useless. The man wearing a wide straw hat, a worn fatigue shirt, and baggy pants over duty boots, shot the bolt on Ben’s rifle. He looked in the receiver. Empty. He couldn’t have shot you if he’d wanted to, Joe.

I figured as much. The nigger shoved the dirt around. He tried to put it back the way it was before Ben came through. Since he didn’t shoot me right away. Oh yeah, get out of my field.

The man in the straw hat and Manny moved up onto the road. Manny’s hands moved Ben around like he was nothing. He saw a couple more people out of the corner of his eye. One of them had his pack. The other one had everything that had come out of Ben’s pockets. The man in the straw hat turned to Ben, raising his head to look him in the eye. He had slanty, narrow black eyes in a flat face, a thin black beard and scanty mustache, under the straw hat. Ben stared. That was a gook!

Definitely a city boy, the gook said. What are you doing out here? Never mind, I have to tell Alice you’re here. She’ll want to look at you herself. Come on, you. I’ll send somebody out to help you, Joe.

That would be nice. The nigger sounded sarcastic. He shoved dirt and green things around.

Manny shoved Ben along the paths beside the fields. The black smudges turned into buildings. The buildings all looked like forts. They had thick walls, flat roofs, small high windows. Sentries stood on top. The biggest one had a pen with animals. Smaller buildings scattered around. An open tower thing had a fan on top. It spun slowly in the light breeze.

Ben thought they might go to the biggest building. He would put his operations in there if he had any, showing everyone how important he was. The gook and Manny dragged him toward a smaller two-story building. The bottom floor was windowless like all the other buildings. It had some kind of porch or walkway around the second floor. It had narrow windows in its upper walls.

The big iron bound wooden door opened up as the gook walked up on the doorstep. An old nigger woman, black as the ace of spades, a little shorter than he, stringy and well weathered, peppered hair cut close to her head, dressed in mixed up clothes like the gook, walked out. She closed the door behind her. She studied him with her sharp black eyes. Her bony black wrinkled face was blank. He drew himself up as best he could in Manny’s unbreakable grip. He stared her down.

I’m going to help Joe, another female voice said behind him. The old woman didn’t even blink.

Thanks, Dee, the gook said for her. Take Joe his seeds, will you?

Sure, the woman said. Ben heard footsteps on wooden planks as the other woman left. The old nigger woman still didn’t blink.

You let me go, right now, Ben said. You got no right to keep me like this.

I have every right, the old woman said. Her voice was flat and raspy. You’re on my turf now. What do you want?

Ben blinked. Where’s the woman? I followed her here. Where is she? Give her back to me and I’ll let you live.

The gook snorted. Listen to the puppy bark. You’re in no position to make demands, city boy.

Ben was getting real tired of being treated like he was nothing. He was Criélos, dammit! He twisted and jerked. He screamed his war cry. He tried to pull away. Manny forced him down to his knees. His arms jerked up behind his back. He had to press his face into the rough floor boards to keep them from being ripped out of the sockets. Manny’s hand on his neck kept him that way, humiliated beyond reason.

Criélos? the old woman said. Didn’t Agnes mention something about that?

Maybe, I don’t remember, the gook said. But the big gangs probably splintered and fell apart as the resources ran out. All that’s left are the little gangs. They’re probably eating each other by now.

Ben kicked. He had no right to say that! Criélos controlled six whole square miles of buildings! Criélos had maybe a hundred and fifty people! That was more than anybody! General Asher, the boss, was going to annex the Harmony Vista territories with their rich houses and smart people. Ben heard that. Being a foot soldier meant he just did what he was told. The higher ranks didn’t tell him anything except where to go and what to do.

The gook was right. Food was scarce. Criélos territory didn’t even have bugs to eat. Even Ben knew that. Some people said Harmony Vista had food. They had buildings that weren’t falling apart. They had people who knew things. Now and then somebody would disappear. Everybody around them claimed they’d gone over to Harmony Vista. They swore vengeance on them for desertion. Then they’d disappear too. Maybe General Asher was planning an attack on Harmony Vista, get his people back, get Harmony Vista’s stuff so he could take more territory for the Criélos.

What do you want to do with him? the gook said. It was like he and the old woman were just talking. These kinds don’t ever tame or amount to anything. We’d be better off just leaving him for buzzard bait.

What? Ben wiggled. He tried to kick. Manny’s iron hands held him still.

Maybe. The old woman sounded thoughtful. Why don’t you put him in the barn for the time being? Let him cool off. We can sell him to Yasser Ranch across the ridge if he’s not worth the effort. They always need extra hands over there.

What? Ben tried to wiggle and kick some more. He wasn’t a slave! He was a Criélos foot soldier, dammit, a free man! He went where he wanted! He did what he wanted when he wanted!

Yes, ma’am, the gook said. He grabbed Ben by the hair again. He pulled him to his feet. Come on, you.

Manny marched Ben out of the shade into the sun. The bright light made his eyes blink and water with pain. Manny marched Ben across the open area. Manny marched Ben into the big building that stank like shit. He stumbled across the uneven floor. Manny held him up by the grip on his wrists. Manny shoved him hard. He skidded into a cage. His feet tangled in the yellow stuff on the floor. He fell on his face.

Quick as shit, he jumped up. He charged at them. They closed the cage door with a bang. He grabbed the bars. He shook them hard. He screamed everything he knew at them, every death threat, every Criélos slogan, what he wanted to do to them. Neither the gook nor Manny, a greaser or something that was as wide as he was tall with arms as big around as Ben’s legs, reacted.

Ben paused for breath. The gook pointed at a bucket on the wall. There’s fresh water there. Don’t break the faucet or you’ll be knee deep in mud with nothing to drink. We’ll bring you some food at supper. You might as well get comfortable, you little bastard. You’re going to be here a while.

They left. Ben screamed. eHeHHpl

mb

eomkmH He banged on the bars of his cage. Some birds left, throwing feathers and dust in the air. Ben screamed at them too. He only got a sore throat.

He couldn’t figure out the faucet. There was water already in the bucket. He drank most of it. It was stale and warm and tasted like the bucket. He kicked at the faucet. Metal things like this were all over Criélos. None of them ever worked. His mother had said they made water once. He never found one that did. They were just lumps of metal that made handy weapons in a fight.

He twisted the top of the faucet, a round piece that fit his hand. It turned hard. Water ran out of the faucet. The bucket filled up.

He stared at the running water. So his mother was right after all? He twisted the round piece again. It turned the other way. The water stopped. He blinked. He stared. He tried it again. Water ran again. The bucket started to run over. He turned the handle the other way. The water stopped.

The new water in the bucket was cool and fresh. It didn’t taste like bucket at all. Belly full of cool water, he sat against the opposite wall. He stared at the faucet.

What kind of place was this? Was it the old world his mother had cried so much about?

Old world or not, he was still in a cage. He looked around it. He saw the back wall built of mud brick, plastered over with grainy concrete. The lower part was scarred and dirty. The other three walls stood about armpit high. They were scarred and dirty thick solid wood. They had iron bars above that. The door was a section of the front wall. It faced out into the main walkway of the big building. He stuck his arm through, trying to reach the latch. A padlock hung there, smooth and cool. He slapped it around in a rage. There was no way to open it. Kicking and rattling did no good.

He took hold of the bars. He looked up toward the top of the cage. They didn’t go all the way to the high ceiling. He pulled himself up to the top of the wooden wall. He took a firm grip on the bars. He tried to pull himself up.

His pants and boots gave him no grip on the cool metal. They wouldn’t support him. He didn’t have the arm strength to climb the bars that way. Gasping, he fell down in the yellow stuff. He glared up at the tempting open top of the cage.

If General Asher knew how a bunch of filthy foreigners was treating one of his own men, a foot soldier sworn to him, he’d send his whole army to punish them, burn this whole place to the ground and kill every one of these filthy savages! No one treated a Criélos this way, and expected to live to talk about it!

Ben rattled the cage door again. He slid down onto the floor, his back to the door. Well, more likely leave him here as punishment for leaving without permission. To tell the truth, General Asher didn’t even know he existed. He was just another face in the crowd cheering for him on parade. Ben had taken this mission on himself. He didn’t consult anyone, not his corporal, not his sergeant, and definitely not General Asher himself. He’d hoped that if he brought the woman back, one of the General’s favorites, General Asher would award him a woman of his own, rank, status, an extra ration of food, maybe his own soldiers to command.

He was just another throw away, disappearing in the night without permission or reason. His homies would swear vengeance on Harmony Vista or one of the other gangs. They would kill a few rivals. They would forget him except when they’d managed to scavenge up some liquor somewhere. Tears prickled up behind his eyes. He pressed the heels of his hands into them, forcing the tears back. A man did not cry. A Criélos did not cry, even when they were in a cage or being tortured.

That thought made the tears dry up instantly. Would these people torture him? They already said they’d sell him to some place over the ridge, wherever that was. Maybe