Let them see she was not afraid. That she never buckled. That she was smarter than leading them on a merry chase through dead woods.
And that was that.
Off went the hat, the backpack with her precious volumes, the outer layers that would come between her filthy skin and cool, murky water. In she went, swimming for the ship. Knowing she’d never make it.
But she did.
The human condition wouldn’t let her sink. Delirious, the body fought the mind and she cut through the water like a fish. Fingers reached the bobbing gangplank, having somehow passed the boat, somehow passed John, who splashed in her wake.
A stranger’s firm hands pulled her from the lake, where she fell immediately to her back, staring up at a sun so blinding she couldn’t make out the shadowed faces standing over her.
“Well, aren’t you a pretty one?” Someone was pawing at her face, turning her chin and brushing wet, red curls off her cheek.
Trying to swat off the attention was almost more effort than her exhausted muscles might put forth. “Hands off the goods.”
“And bossy to boot.”
The sounds of her companion being pulled from the water, of his sputtering and coughing, were ignored. Eugenia, still blinded by the sun but doing her damnedest to point her eyes in the direction of the dark figure hovering closest, muttered, “Mister, just tell me one thing. You got air conditioning on this ship?”
A masculine chuckle was the only answer supplied.
Her companion coughed, then sucked in a breath to say, “Brought the girl for sale. As you can see, she’s a beauty. A great ride too.”
John. Fucking puppy-eyed John.
How dare he! After she’d hunted for him, shared resources... allowed him to travel with her and glimpse the precious map.
Even though someone held a canteen to her lips, even when clean water warmed by the sun splashed her tongue and was gulped. Right then, right when that water hit her gut, she knew it. John had been planning to sell her all along. That’s why the pussy kept pushing for City. That’s why he suggested the shortcut when his whining never won her.
His voice was coming closer. John crawled near where she guzzled. “Do we have a deal for the girl?”
“No.” Authoritative, definite.
Maybe there was a God.
Or maybe there was just nothing but evil. “A slave can’t sell a slave. You want water, boy. You work for it. If you don’t work, you get tossed over with the rest who failed to pull their weight.”
In raggedy underclothes, head pounding, muscles noodley, Eugenia found the strength to lean up on an elbow and spit every drop of life-saving water in her mouth at the traitor. “Pig!”
The same man who had deemed her a slave at first glance ordered, “Get her off the ramp before that creamy skin burns. Take her to the women on Level 15—in the air conditioning. Have them clean her up and keep her alive. This siren’s too valuable to let die.”
Fighting with the little strength she had, biting, hoarse screams, and pathetic flopping did nothing to keep her from being shouldered like a knapsack.
It wasn’t a short walk, but she didn’t give up, powerless to move her arms more than a sorry swing but sharp with her tongue. She threatened the stranger’s life, swore she’d tear off his cock if he put it anywhere near her. His mother. His family. Creative in her expletives until a door opened and cool air blasted her back.
There really was air conditioning on that boat! One taste of it on her skin and she went from spitting hellcat to sobbing wreck.
The trivial thing she’d craved most from the life stolen when the bombs fell was just as divine as she remembered.
“Hey, Joan, here’s a new one. Captain wants her cleaned up and kept alive. Level 15.”
“Well”—a woman spoke, a no-nonsense, middle-aged voice—“won’t that just get the men frothing at the mouth? And just look at all that red hair.”
“Temper to match. She’s a biter.” Hefting Eugenia down against something soft and forgotten, the bruiser who dragged her into air-conditioned hell warned Joan, “Watch yourself.”
“Yeah, I heard you. Now go. No men are allowed up here until the bell.”
Chapter Two