Fiona barely had time to scramble to her feet when the tent flap opened. Three men stood in the doorway. She recognized the two she’d spotted earlier. They pushed into the tent and all the women scurried backward as one.
“You’re not supposed to be in here,” Nuala said in a strong voice, but her hands were trembling.
“Oy, Benjy,” the fat one said pointing at Nuala. “Remember this one? She was my favorite. In fact, I think it was me what put that bun in her oven, so I do!”
He took a step toward Nuala. All three men were armed. Lately Sinead had been having the rapists double as security in the camp.
“Nay, Bert,” Benjy said, grinning and showing several missing teeth. “I was the one did that to ‘er. Wasn’t I, sweetheart?” he said as he leered at Nuala. Hannah edged away from the tent door but her movement caused all three to turn in her direction. She held her pregnant belly. Her eyes were wide with terror.
“You’re not supposed to touch us!” Julie said, pushing in front of Nuala.
“Says who?” Bert said, advancing on Hannah. She whimpered as he grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to one of the dining tables.
“We’ll tell!” Fiona said shrilly, her eyes on poor Hannah as the man pulled her around until she was facing away from him. “Dr. Mac said you’ll be killed if you touch us!”
“Dr. Mac,” Benjy said and then spat on the vinyl floor of the tent. “Reckon it’s our word against yours.”
The third man was younger with hair to his shoulders. Fiona had never seen him before but she could tell by the dead look in his eyes that there was something mentally wrong with him. He pulled his gun and aimed it at Julie but his attention was on Hannah and the fat man. Hannah was weeping and half bent over the table, but her dress was still down over her hips.
“Pretty hard to say you didn’t touch us if one of us is dead,” Nuala said, pointing to the gun.
“Don’t give us cause to shoot ye then,” Benjy said with a grin.
“They won’t dare shoot us!” Fiona yelled to the other women. She walked up to the younger man with the gun and slapped him hard across the face. His eyes flew open wide in shock and then a demonic fury spread across his features. He twisted the gun around and raised it to Fiona’s face.
“Don’t leave a mark on her!” Benjy barked. “Just roger her! What the feck are ye doing over there, Bert?” he called to the fat man with Hannah.
“I can’t bend her proper,” Bert said in frustration. “Her gut’s too big!”
Fiona tried to run to Hannah and felt her arm jerked nearly out of its socket by the younger man. He grabbed her face with his meaty hand and pushed her backwards until she fell against the couch.
Stopping only long enough to hand his gun to Benjy, he began pawing at Fiona’s long skirt. Suddenly, everyone was screaming. The children ran to the men and began beating at them with their fists. One of Nuala’s boys was backhanded across the room. Julie grabbed the younger man on top of Fiona by his hair. A gun went off ratcheting up the terror and the noise.
Seconds later a long piercing scream brought the men to their feet, panting and red-faced. Fiona’s assailant had a long scratch from his eyebrow to his jaw. Fiona got to her feet and turned to see the source of the scream.
Julie stood alone in a small puddle of water, clutching her belly.
“You bastards!” Nuala said. “She’s in labor!”
The men began backing out the door.
“We didn’t do that!” Benjy yelled, waving his gun at the women. “It’s our word against yours!” The three slipped out the tent. The women ran to where Julie stood. Nuala reached her first. She grabbed Julie by the arm and helped her sit.
“Go see to your lad,” Julie said, panting. Nuala looked over her shoulder but she could see both boys were unharmed.
“I’m here to see to you,” Nuala said firmly. She looked at Fiona. “We all are.”
Fiona smiled bleakly and turned to find Hannah. The girl was leaning against the table, her face white.
“You okay then, Hannah?” Fiona called to her.
The girl looked at her with surprise and nodded. One of the other women gave Hannah’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Nuala directed two of the women to keep the children distracted. She had Catriona fetch a bowl of clean water. Fiona sat next to Julie and held her hand.
“Good timing,” Fiona said with a straight face. “I appreciate you choosing now to go into labor.”
“Glad I could accommodate,” Julie said, wincing. “Feck, it hurts like a bastard. Do ye ken what you’re doing then, Fiona?”
“If you’re asking if I’ve ever delivered a baby,” Fiona said, patting her hand. “The answer is yes. Just don’t do anything off the charts and we’ll be fine.”
“Aye,” Julie said, putting her head back and closing her eyes for a moment before the next contraction. “That’s what they all say just before everything goes to shite.”
“Hello!” a female voice called from outside the tent. “It’s Mrs. Reidy the midwife, if ye please.”
Hannah whirled around to face the women. “I didn’t call her! I swear!”
“The men notified me,” Mrs. Reidy said pushing into the tent. She had a doctor’s bag. Two of the compound women blocked her entrance.
“You’re not needed here,” Liddy said threateningly.
“I just want to help.”
“Ye can help by pissing off,” Nuala called to her.
The midwife glowered at the two women barring her entrance. “I believe I can help better by giving your friend the benefit of my midwifery skills. Please.”
“You want to help?” Nuala yelled. “Why don’t you tell someone we’re here!”
“Who would you have me tell? Who would care?” Mrs. Reidy said in frustration.
A moment of silence passed as each woman in the tent seemed to digest the midwife’s words.
“Let her in,” Fiona said tiredly. “She can help.” And she’s right, there’s no one to care.
The midwife went to Julie. She immediately pulled on latex gloves and took Julie’s pulse. Fiona looked at Nuala over Mrs. Reidy’s head. Something intrinsically sad passed between them.
Fiona turned her attention back to Julie. “We’re here, Jules. We’re all here to help you get this little one born.”
Julie squeezed her eyes tightly shut. A single tear escaping as she gripped Fiona’s hand for all she was worth.
The minute the work camp foreman walked down the center road where the men were lined up, Mike knew he was coming for him. He’d known it since last night when their unfinished business spoke louder than anything McKenna had actually said to him. And he knew whatever the bastard had to say to him was about to be delivered in a brutal and likely inhuman way.
And Mike knew he needed to take it. At least for now.
After breakfast was delivered, the door had swung over and everyone inside had been routed out into the long dusty passageway in front of the hut. Six soldiers with rifles prodded the men into two facing lines. It was the first time Mike had seen Tommy on his feet. He swayed uncertainly between Gavin and another man. There was no way the lad would be able to work in a mine today. No way he’d stay on his feet for long, let alone swing a pickaxe.
In the daylight each of the men looked ravaged and malnourished. The young men were hunched over from the work and abuse, the middle aged men looked like old men. Their clothes were filthy and stank even in the fresh air. Liam Carey stayed well away from both Mike and Gavin. He had to know even shackled they could easily break his neck.
Mike had spoken very little to Gavin but now he prayed the lad knew to keep his mouth shut—regardless of what happened. Megalomaniacs like McKenna typically needed little to be provoked into doing the unthinkable. And from the stories Mike had heard last night from Terry and the other men, damn little provoking was needed.
The sun was weak this morning but at least it didn’t look like rain. Whatever was coming had to be something important for McKenna to lose even a morning at the mines. The foreman strode down the middle of the two lines of men and stood in front of Mike although he didn’t look at him. Food stains were visible on the man’s shirt from a hasty but recent breakfast. His soldiers stood watching the assembled men warily for any sign of insurrection. The very thought was absurd. Most of them didn’t look like they had the strength to remain standing for long.
McKenna scanned the two lines of men. His eyes rested briefly on Father Ryan who stood with his head down and then went to an older man who stood at the end of the line, with one hand on a man next to him as if for support. A reptilian smile slithered across McKenna’s face as he nodded at the man. Two soldiers instantly went to the older man and dragged him to where McKenna stood. The old fellow—probably no more than fifty but looking much older—stumbled once before he stood before the foreman.
McKenna raised his hands to the assembled group.
“We have three new workers,” he said. “You’ll have met them by now. Said they’re here because they were curious. Can you believe that?” He laughed. “Yeah, me neither. They don’t know about me magic tricks. Unless you’ve told them?” He grinned at Terry. “Did you tell them? Did you tell them about me magic tricks?”
Terry shook his head, and then looked down at the ground in front of him.
“That’s grand,” McKenna said. “I like surprises.” He looked Mike in the eye for the first time. “How would ye like to see me put you on yer knees without even laying a finger on ye?” He addressed the assembled men. “You all know I can do it, don’t you? Without even touching him.”
McKenna suddenly buried his fist in the stomach of the gray-haired man standing behind him. The man began to sag to his knees and a soldier grabbed him to keep him from falling. McKenna smashed the old man in the face with a meaty fist, a spray of teeth and blood splattered in an arc.
“Stop it, ye bastard,” Mike said, cursing himself before the words were out of his mouth.
“Just what I thought,” McKenna said, smiling. “A hero. Didn’t I call it?” He turned to his soldiers who stared solemnly back at him without responding.
“I said you’d be the problem,” McKenna said as he walked over and stood in front of Mike. “Ye think you’ve given every man here hope that there’s an end to this nightmare. And that’s true. Just not in the way ye think.” He turned to the older man standing bent over where he’d left him, his face bleeding, his eyes squeezed shut. “Hold him tight,” he said to the soldier holding him.
The solider planted his feet behind the man and cinched his hold, but his face was a mask of misery and stoicism. He was not restraining the old man so much as attempting to keep him upright. A tic in the soldier’s left eye announced what was coming. McKenna faced the old man and smiling congenially. He placed his hands around the man’s neck and began squeezing. The man gasped, his face jerking up to stare into McKenna’s eyes, to try to escape the tightening hands.
“What they all know before you got here,” McKenna said over the loud gasps of the man struggling to breathe, “is that the only end to this nightmare comes when I say it does.”
Mike dropped to his knees and held up his hands.
“Please! I’m begging you,” Mike said. “Look, I’m on me knees! For the love of God!”
The old fellow’s feet were slowly lifting off the ground as McKenna, his arms trembling with the effort, lifted him by his neck and squeezed harder. The man’s face went purple. His mouth was open wide as he fought for breath. His tongue lolled desperately, his hands clawed the air. The soldier holding him stepped back, sweat pouring from his face as the old man went suddenly limp. McKenna swung around to face Mike. He held the man by his neck and shook him at Mike.
“If you…ever…speak to me again,” McKenna said with effort, his face contorted in rage while the man’s neck wobbled limply in his hands, “I will…kill every fecking bastard in your hut.” He dropped the body to the ground and put his heavy boot on it. The old man’s trousers were dark with urine. “Starting with your own lad.”
He brushed his hands off and stepped over the man to bring his face close to Mike’s.
“You shovel rock every day without being a pain in my arse, and every day I let someone live. You resist me at-tall and someone dies. Stand up.”
Mike stood and instantly felt his arms being pinned behind him as two soldiers held him.
“Welcome to Hell, arsehole,” McKenna said as he slammed his first punch hard into Mike’s midriff.
Mike blew out a breath and regretted it immediately as a jolt of pain shot through his shoulder and up into his skull. The beating had been methodical but more for show than to inflict real damage, and for that Mike was grateful. Must be quite a skill—gauging how hard to beat someone so they’re still able to put in a full day’s work.
He sat on the hard bench inside the truck as it rolled through the gates. Gavin sat opposite him, his face a mask of misery and worry.
“I’m fine,” he said to the lad through swollen lips. While his face felt battered, McKenna had stayed away from Mike’s ribs. There was nothing that would stop Mike from swinging a pick or stacking rocks.
“Tell me you have a plan,” Gavin said hoarsely. They were both still cuffed. Mike noticed that not every man from their hut was on the truck. Both Tommy and Terry were left behind to clean the latrines which at least beat hard labor. Mike hoped it was because he and Gavin had taken their places. The other men on the truck were strangers to him. Father Ryan had disappeared soon after the morning line up and Mike hadn’t seen him again. The rest of the men on the truck didn’t look at him, but stared at the floor as if they were being driven to their executions. Mike glanced at the others and then back at Gavin to indicate he didn’t like talking in front of them. Gavin nodded. Carey was seated at the back of the truck.
If there was ever anything like karma, it had to be that little shite getting caught in his own filthy trap.
Mike wasn’t sure what he was waiting for. Possibly for the moment they took his handcuffs off, or for the moment when he saw some kind of breech in the security forces in the camp. He didn’t know what he was looking for; he just knew he hadn’t seen it so far. For now, they would go along, keep their heads down and wait. He prayed it wouldn’t be long. It didn’t look like his men could wait too long.
Thirty minutes later, the truck stopped and two soldiers with guns ordered them out. Mike jumped to the ground, forcing himself not to groan—at least for Gavin’s sake. The mining field that spread before him was desolate, looking more like a moonscape than any part of Ireland that Mike had ever seen. Pits of various sizes and piles of dusty stones were haphazardly scattered across the landscape in every direction. He could smell the sea and guessed they must be close.
One of the soldiers unlocked his cuffs and then freed Gavin. It was ludicrous to think of attempting escape from here. At least twenty soldiers surrounded them and herded them toward a small shack.
A collection of tools was propped up against the shed. The prisoners formed a line as each was given a wedge or sledgehammer, a pick axe or shovel and went to a staging area to wait. When Gavin walked forward, he was stopped by a tall, well-fed man who appeared to be directing the men. The man wore a scarf around his mouth and nose. He grabbed a pick axe and handed it to Gavin, then handed Mike a pair of heavy work gloves.
Dark clouds held the threat of rain and a stiff breeze needled through the group of men. It was cold and none of them were dressed for bad weather. Mike assumed they’d all be plenty warm real soon. When every man had their tool, they were led across the gravel drive to a large depression in the ground covered by piles of white silt and rocks. Another man awaited them there. He, too, had his mouth covered by a protective shield.
He pointed to Mike. “Oy! You.”
Mike pulled on the gloves and walked over to the man where he was standing in the middle of a rock pile.
“Take the largest rocks and position ‘em wide side up, like so,” he said, squatting and showing Mike how to twist the rock around. “Then back off and go on to the next one.” The man pointed to Gavin. “You, split the rock down the middle, like so.” He drew a gloved finger down the center of the rock where he wanted Gavin to hit it. “Got it?”
Gavin nodded, raised his pick axe and slammed it into the rock. The rock fell into pieces.
“Aye,” the man said. “Pick up the pieces and put ‘em here.” He pointed to a large metal receptacle already loaded with large chunks of stone. “Think you can handle that?” He walked away, but the soldier nearby stayed and kept his rifle aimed at Mike.
Mike squatted and grabbed a large rock, wrestling it around until the widest part of it was facing up. He stepped back and waited for Gavin to split it before he bent over and lifted the pieces in his hands and carried them to the cage.
The hours dragged by each minute becoming slower and more painful until the sun dropped behind the hut and the sounds of iron clanging against rocks and grunts became less and less frequent. Twice Mike fell to his knees and both times the soldier with the gun shouted at him to get back up. He tried to imagine the compound men doing this sort of brutal labor for hours on hours every day for the five months they’d been here. It was no wonder they were sickly and weak. When they were working in the dark, finally the soldiers called for them to return their tools to the shed. Once more they made the tool exchange with the tall man with the scarf over his face.
Gavin had to help Mike into the truck. His arms were shaking and he couldn’t make them stop it. He tried to imagine how Gavin must feel after swinging the pick over and over again for at least seven hours with only a few stops for water and those no more than ten minutes. The lad looked exhausted, but his eyes continued to dart around the truck as if trying to find a way out.
Mike sank back against the side of the truck with a groan as they slammed shut the back cargo door. Now he knew why the men he’d seen two days ago hadn’t bothered looking up when they drove by him. They were too tired to do anything but sit upright. Right now, Mike wasn’t entirely sure he could even do that for the whole trip back to the camp.
With no breakfast or lunch, he felt lightheaded and assumed Gavin—who normally ate enough for two men—was as weakened as Mike felt. Could they hope for a meal when they got back? Was he going to have to kill someone in the hut to get a share for himself and Gavin? Mike honestly thought he might be able to. He allowed his thoughts to settle on memories of Sarah. Sometimes the thought of her weakened him but now, for some reason, seeing her face again, remembering her laugh, helped to give him strength. It wasn’t possible to believe he wouldn’t see her again. He had to believe he would. And the little one.
The trip back to the camp was faster than he could believe. He must have fallen asleep because the next moment, the back door was opening with a loud clang and the soldiers were yelling at them to get out. Mike stood up and immediately grabbed the side of the truck to steady himself.
He felt a little stronger. The rest had helped. But he needed food. When he climbed down, he fell into line with the other men who knew the drill. He kept his head down, hoping the soldiers wouldn’t remember he and Gav had been handcuffed. Gavin must have had the same thought. He stayed close to Mike with his eyes on his feet.
Two stretchers carrying covered corpses were walked by, being carried by other prisoners. A splinter of fear shot through Mike. Was it one of the compound men? Terry had said men died every day here. Mike could well believe it. Even well fed and well rested, just doing the work of a quarry rock splitter day in and day out would be enough to put most men in their graves before time.
Once emptied of its human cargo, the truck pulled away and they were led away by the soldiers. Mike held his breath until he, Gavin, Carey and four other men were led to their hut. The soldiers opened the door and the seven men filed inside. Only when the door slammed behind them, did Mike let out an agonized sigh of relief that they wouldn’t be cuffed for the night.
Tommy met them at the door with a small flashlight and Mike was glad to see the lad on his feet. Perhaps this was the bastards’ plan—work a man to the brink of death, give him a day of rest, and then wind him up again. In any case, Tommy’s day off had clearly done him wonders.
“I saved ye some dinner,” he said to Gavin.
“Is…is there no dinner tonight?” Mike asked, his anxiety and disappointment showing in his voice.
“I’m sorry,” Tommy said. “You missed it. But Da was able to score a whole serving. He saved it for you.”
Mike looked helplessly around the hut. The stench had hit him hard again as soon as he’d stepped inside. Most of the men were already lying on their bunks. Terry walked over to Mike and handed him a large, moldy piece of bread.
“It’s not much,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t fecking apologize,” Mike growled. “Ye’ve got nothing to apologize for.” He took the bread and felt rage building inside his chest. “Did you eat, Terry?”
“Aye,” Terry said, nodding eagerly so that Mike didn’t know if he could believe him or not.
“They can work the life out of a man all day,” Mike said in exasperation, “and then not feed him at-tall? How do they expect ye to live long enough to do the fecking work?”
Terry shook his head. “I don’t know what they expect,” he said. He pointed to an empty bed three bunks in. “The good news is there’s a bed for ye tonight,” he said.
Mike looked at the empty bed—a bare mattress badly stained—and then back at the bread chunk in his hand. He took a bite and swallowed.
“And is there some bad news to go with that?” he asked bitterly.
“Aye,” Terry said sadly. “But there’s no point in talking of it.”
**********
The bed helped. Mike lay down, his stomach growling and his jaw still sore from the morning’s beating. He tried to think what he could do. He worked to slow down the pain, the need and the fear so that he could think. It seemed every time he looked over at Gavin, the lad was looking back at him with an expectant look in his eye. Unlike everyone else in this pit of doom who’d long given up hope, Gavin was keen to know whether his father had figured a way out yet.
How long before the exhaustion and the hunger and the beatings reduced Mike to the feeble men he saw tottering about him in the hut? How long before his thoughts were only filled with his next meal or sip of water? If he didn’t find a way out of this place soon—as in now—every day pushed him further and further away from ever being able to do it.
They’d been gone only four days. Had Sarah delivered? Was she safe? If she’d had the baby, when would she start thinking about coming after him? He ran a hand over his face and stifled a groan. There was no doubt she was coming as soon as she had that baby. Dear God, he had to get them out of here before that happened.
He looked up to see the door to the hut open and a figure slip inside. Beyond initially looking up to see who it was, none of the other men seemed to care. Mike swung his feet over the side of the bed and placed them solidly on the slimy, fetid floor so he could see better.
It was Father Ryan.
I wonder where that lying sod has been all day?
While granted Ryan looked nearly as emaciated as the rest of the men, it hadn’t escaped Mike’s attention that the good father had not been on the truck today and, given that he appeared to be able to come and go as he liked, probably wasn’t normally on it. He watched Ryan kneel by one of the bunks and pull out a small package. The other men were watching him, so clearly this had happened before. Ryan patted the man’s arm and moved to another bunk—this one higher up. Ryan murmured to him as if asking him how he was feeling. Then another small package came out. This time, Mike could smell it. Meat. Ryan took two more stops. Each time, eyes followed him but nobody made a move to stop him.
Were the men giving him special leeway because of his collar? Perhaps they didn’t know what a lying, scheming bastard he was. But, even if the wanker had just returned from a nine-course banquet with the devil himself, he had brought food to the weakest in the tent. Mike decided to leave well enough alone. At least for now.
He heard a muted laugh. Gavin and Tommy sat on the bed they’d shared and he was glad that the two lads could find a reason—in the middle of hell—to smile even if just for a moment. He saw Father Ryan drop his jacket onto his bunk not far from Mike. He watched him pull out his missal and sit for a moment holding it in his hands as if getting strength just from holding it. Then he got up and walked over to Mike.
“Father,” Mike said with as much sarcasm as his weariness would allow.
Ryan squatted in front of him but didn’t speak.
“Something on your mind?” Mike asked, remembering as he looked at the man that he was the reason they’d lost Gavin all those months ago—and as a result of that, John, and then so much more.
“Aye,” Ryan said softly. He held the missal to his chest. Mike wondered if he did it to remind Mike he was a priest. As if Mike needed reminding. It was because Ryan was a priest that he’d been trusted. Stupidly, ignorantly trusted.
“Ye do remember I married you and Sarah,” Ryan said.
“Is it likely I’d forget that?” Mike said.
“I know you don’t trust me, Mike. I know you likely despise me.”
“Get to the point. It’s been a long day.”
“I have a message for you from Jaz.”
Mike narrowed his eyes at the priest but his heart beat faster. He reminded himself what this man had done to his family. And yet…
“How is it you’ve got a message from anyone on the outside?” Mike asked.
“I have a certain amount of trust here—not much—but enough to parlay into a little flexibility.”
“Like not working in the mines, I notice.”
“I worked the mines every day until last month. They feel they get more good out of me by celebrating the Eucharist with the soldiers.”
“You’re performing mass? For these monsters?”
“The soldiers aren’t the monsters. They’re just following orders.”
“Whatever you say.”
“I went into town with two of the soldiers yesterday. One of them had a baby born to his wife in the city. Contrary to what you might think, there aren’t enough priests to go around any more. I provide a service to them. And just maybe I help them hang onto their humanity.”
Mike snorted. “Aye, you’d be the man for that job all right.”
“I know what you think of me, Mike. I pray nightly for your forgiveness and for our Lord’s forgiveness for the terrible crime I committed against you and your family. You can’t hate me as much as I hate myself for what I did to you.”
“To Gavin.”
“Aye, and I’ve already apologized to the lad.”
“And?”
“I don’t deserve his forgiveness. I never expected it.”
“Back to Jaz,” Mike said impatiently.
“She’d obviously been watching the gate. When she saw me leave with the soldiers, she waited. On our drive back, we saw an attractive young woman lying in the middle of the road, who appeared injured and was only semi-clothed.”
Jaysus, Jaz…Mike shook his head.
“The soldiers stopped, of course.”
“Of course.”
“I pretended not to know her and as I was attempting to ascertain her injuries, she slipped a note into my pocket. She then fled.”
“I see. Do you have this note?”
“Surely you can understand how dangerous such a thing would be were it found on my person. I destroyed it.”
“Of course you did.”
“In the note she gave instructions to meet her a few hours later by the north gate. There is a tall box hedge that the gate divides. She slipped behind the hedge on one side and myself on the other. It was almost like a confessional. I’ll spare you the threats of severe damage that would be inflicted upon my private parts if I were to betray you again. She gave me a message for you and we arranged to meet one more time.”
“Why would I believe you?”
“How would I know Jaz was with you? Have you told anyone here?”
Mike had to admit he and Gav had only spoken of Jaz to Tommy and his father, Terry. It wasn’t impossible for Ryan to overhear but probably unlikely.
“And her message to me?”
“She said she has a way to get weapons.”
“The crazy lass! Tell her to go back to the compound. Tell her—
Ryan frowned. “Ye do know I can’t tell her anything, aye? She’s of a mind that she’s rescuing Tommy and she’s not going anywhere.”
“She’ll only get herself killed!”
“Be that as it may, I can’t tell her to go back to the compound. She wouldn’t listen.”
Mike ran his hand through his hair in frustration. Even if every word out of the priest’s mouth was a lie, this at least, he believed. After a moment he said, “Tell me again what she said to you.”
“She said, ‘Tell Mike I’ll get the weapons for whatever he’s planning.’”
“What kind of weapons?”
“She didn’t say.”
“How will she get these weapons to us?”
“I do not know.”
Mike gave a snort of impatience.
“I’m to meet her tomorrow noon to tell her what your plan is,” Ryan said.
“I have no fecking plan!”
Mike stood up in agitation and passed the beam of his flashlight over the others in the hut. Most of the men had fallen asleep in their beds, hungry, exhausted and too despondent to care about anyone’s conversation.
“I can’t meet her but one more time without arousing suspicion. It’s dangerous enough as it is—for Jaz if not myself.”
“How am I going to have a plan by noon tomorrow? It’s impossible.”
Mike pointed the flashlight at Davey on his cot. The man hadn’t moved all day. What was the matter with him was anyone’s guess but starvation was a good bet. Ryan followed his glance.
“We need to get him on his feet,” Ryan said solemnly. “And soon.”
Mike frowned.
“If not, they’ll take him to the sick tent,” Ryan explained.
“Maybe that’s exactly where he needs to be,” Mike said.
“It isn’t. It really isn’t.”
Tommy and Gavin walked over to where Mike and Ryan were talking and sat down on Mike’s bed.
“He’s right,” Tommy said quietly, his eyes straying to Davey’s bed. “The sick tent is a bullet to the back of the head.”
“Jaysus,” Mike said. Things were moving quickly, crowding in on him. He looked at Gav and Tommy watching him. Hell, even Father Ryan was waiting for an answer. How could he let everyone down like this? How had he ever led them to believe he knew what he was doing?
And now Davey was going to be executed because Mike couldn’t come up with a simple plan to get them all the hell out of here? Who was next? Davey’s brother Kevin had fallen three times on the way back to the hut tonight. How long before he got sent to the sick tent?
“If this has to do with Jaz,” Tommy said, “You need to tell me. Is she okay?”
“Aye, lad,” Father Ryan assured him. “She’s grand.”
“You’ve seen her? You’ve talked to her?”
Ryan hesitated and looked over their shoulders. Carey was openly watching them from his bunk. “Keep your voice down.”
“Tell me,” Tommy said.
“There’s nothing to tell,” Father Ryan said.
Mike waved him away and Ryan returned to his bunk still holding his missal.
“He talked to Jaz?” Gavin said, his eyes wide. “Can she get her hands on a gun?”
“And then what, Gav?” Mike said in a rasping whisper. “Would ye have her march in here and shoot thirty guards? Are ye daft, lad?”
“What if the thirty guards were busy with something else?” Tommy said. “Would that help?”
“What the feck are ye talking about?” Mike asked.
Tommy looked at Gavin, his eyes wide. “Maybe, just maybe, I might have an idea.”
Mike’s stomach growled and he felt a wave of dizziness as he gripped the side of the metal bunk bed. Even though it wasn’t late, he could hear snores from most of the men.
“Right, lad,” Mike said to Tommy. “What do you mean, you might have an idea?”
“Okay,” Tommy said with growing excitement, “when they first loaded us in the trucks at Ameriland all they did was strip us of weapons, ye ken? But we got to keep watches and penlights and wedding bands and such.”
Mike frowned and tried to keep from revealing his impatience to the lad.
Tommy stretched out his arm to show the metal watch on his wrist.
“I don’t wear it outside the hut.”
“I’m surprised you still have it,” Gavin said.
“Well, it’s not worth much in here. Not like a piece of bread or meat would be.”
“Fine, lad,” Mike said. “So you have a watch. That’s handy.” Mike was nearing his limit for forbearance.
“It tells the date. It’s how I know, among other things that on April the fourth we’re due for a total eclipse of the sun.”
Hannah stood by the door listening to Julie’s screams. Fiona watched the girl flinch as every howl and every curse word seemed to send an electrical jolt straight through her. The rest of the women took turns holding Julie’s hands or sponging off her face while the midwife massaged her shoulders and checked on the progress of the baby’s birth. The children couldn’t sleep with the noise and Nuala was attempting to distract them with stories.
As much as being with the rest of the women must surely be helping Julie’s agony, a part of Fiona understood why they separated the laboring mother from the children. There was probably not a girl child in this tent who would ever willingly allow herself to go through what Julie was enduring.
The key word being willingly, Fiona thought as she looked at Ciara. The child’s eyes were riveted on Julie’s thrashing form, but her face revealed nothing. Fiona walked to her and tucked her into the pallet she shared with little Maeve.
“You two go on and close your eyes, eh?” she said, forcing herself to smile.
They stared back at her, solemn as owls.
“They’ll be fine,” Nuala said from the corner where she stood with one of the toddlers in her arms. “They just know that Auntie Julie ate a bad oyster and as soon as she gets it out, she’ll be jake.”
Fiona grinned and held out a hand to touch the child Nuala held. “I know every child is treasured and not one more than another,” Fiona said. “I lost my mind back there and I beg your forgiveness.”
“Forgiven. We’ll hear no more about it. How long before she pops it out, do ye ken?”
Fiona watched Julie on her bed in the middle of the room. They’d been right to let the midwife in. The baby was stuck somehow. It had been over five hours since Julie’s water broke and there was still no progress. The midwife had seen it before and she knew what to do. It had been the right thing to let her help.
“It’s a rough one,” Fiona said. “Or am I just imagining it?”
“No,” Nuala said, shaking her head. “Baby’s lodged up there good and tight.” She lowered her voice. “If we were in a hospital they’d do a C-section by now.”
“Do you think so?”
“Mrs. Reidy said as much when she came over to wash her face off a few minutes ago.”
“Is she worried? The midwife?”
“I don’t know. She doesn’t talk much.”
They both watched Julie for a moment and Fiona felt a tightening in her own belly. It’s not that she’d forgotten this part of it, but she didn’t remember it being this bad.
Hannah sneezed and Fiona looked back at her. There was no reason for Hannah to still be standing by the door. The midwife was here. Hannah was still standing there because she felt there was nowhere else for her to go. Fiona walked over to her and Hannah watched her with distrustful eyes.
“Are you okay, Hannah? That was pretty upsetting earlier with the men.”
Hannah stared at Fiona with suspicion. Fiona sighed and put a hand on Hannah’s arm.
“We’re all in this together,” she said softly.
Hannah’s eyes filled with tears and her lips began to tremble. Within seconds she was in Fiona’s arms, her shoulders shaking with her sobs.
“I’m so sorry,” Hannah said. “I didn’t want to.”
“I know that,” Fiona said, smoothing Hannah’s hair off her brow. “We’re all just doing what’s necessary to survive.”
Hannah pulled back. “I want you to know that I won’t do it no more. I promise you.”
“Hannah, it’s okay.”
“The rest of ‘em hate me.”
“They don’t. They understand.” Fiona wasn’t sure if that was absolutely true but the girl was upset enough. Now was not the time for underscoring obvious facts.
“I mean it,” Hannah said. “I won’t do it no more.”
Fiona patted her shoulder. “I think, Hannah, you can help us more by continuing to let them think you’re their creature. Can you do that?”
Hannah’s face twisted into threat of more tears. “But why?”
“I don’t know, petal,” Fiona said as she held the girl to her bosom. “There may come a time when their trust in you will be the only edge we have.”
Three hours later the atmosphere in the tent was chilled and muted. Every woman in it had spent the last five hours on her feet, tending the children, helping the midwife, encouraging Julie. Every woman in that tent had watched their sister, their own mirror image, as she labored.
“I cheated ‘em! The bastards. I cheated ‘em good!” Julie screamed, her face mottled with red, spittle flying from her lips. She flung an arm out, catching the midwife full across the face. Fiona and Nuala ran to Julie.
“Did ye see her, Fi?” Julie said, grabbing Fiona’s hands, while Nuala helped Mrs. Reidy to her feet. The midwife’s face was etched in the exhaustion of the battle she’d just fought.
“Did ye see my little lass?”
“Aye, Julie,” Fiona said through her tears. “I did. As pretty as a prayer.” Fiona didn’t look at the quiet bundle lying on the table behind them. The cord wasn’t wrapped around her neck, she wasn’t blue or even red. There was no reason or understanding why the perfectly formed babe had been born dead.
Mrs. Reidy packed her bag, a red stripe against her cheek where Julie had hit her. She slipped from the tent, her shoulders slumped in exhaustion and defeat.
“They fattened me up for nine months,” Julie cried, weeping, “but I stole her away from them. Didn’t I, Fi? Didn’t I?”
“They’ll not have your perfect lass,” Fiona said, smoothing Julie’s brow with a trembling hand. The rest of the women sat nearby, their faces streaming for the infant who lay surrounded by candles and lovingly wrapped in the blanket Julie had knitted for her.
Only the sounds of the heartbroken mother filled the tent. Nuala caught Fiona’s eye over Julie’s bowed head and her message could not have been clearer if she’d spoken out loud.
We can’t wait much longer.
Mike stared at Tommy as if he couldn’t possibly have heard correctly. A total eclipse of the sun? Could that be true? How the hell could the lad know that?
“When?” Mike asked.
“Day after tomorrow. Midday.”
Mike felt the tips of his fingers tingle as he attempted to tamp down his excitement. If Tommy was correct, the fact that everything was going to go unexpectedly dark in the middle of the day was very good news indeed.
If he was correct.
“That’s good, lad,” Mike said staring into space, distracted.
“How can ye be sure?” Gavin asked Tommy.
“I’m sure because before the soldiers came I had special plans for that day,” Tommy said bitterly. “So, aye, I’m sure. Two days from now at twelve seventeen exactly, the stars will align—or at least the moon will—and create nearly forty minutes of nighttime in the middle of the day.”
That night Mike didn’t sleep at all. With the thought of Davey edging closer to his execution by the hour and Jaz somewhere on the outside waiting for them and ready to do God knows what to get herself killed, Mike knew he had to act quickly. They couldn’t wait. He didn’t know if Tommy’s eclipse was their only chance but right now he had to assume it was. He didn’t have time to wait for something else to present itself. Waiting any longer doomed Davey and eventually all of them. Just knowing the hour and the day of their escape attempt was thrilling and horrifying.
The hour of our deaths…
Now if he could only be sure of the plan to go along with the timing.
The next morning as the other men were fighting for their breakfast, Mike went to Ryan and bent close to his ear.
“Tell Jaz there’s going to be a solar eclipse right after noon tomorrow. If she can create some kind of diversion just before it gets dark, say twelve ten or so, we’ll be able to overpower the guards.”
Ryan frowned. “How in the world do you know there’ll be an eclipse?”
“That doesn’t matter. But you need to tell her to wait until it’s nearly dark.”
“What kind of distraction?”
“Nothing too risky. Screaming might work. Or start a fire in the woods outside the camp. But not near the front gate.”
“Because that’s where you’ll attempt to escape?” Ryan asked.
“That’s right.”
Ryan shook his head. “Won’t you all be at the mines during the time of the eclipse?”
“Tommy thinks we’ll have rain tomorrow but in case we don’t, he says he can slip under the transport truck and cut the gas line. It’s just temporary but it should keep us here until noon.”
Ryan sucked in a breath and glanced over at Tommy, his brow drawn together in a frown. He didn’t respond.
“If we are forced to go to the mines,” Mike said as if filling in the details of the plan in his own mind as he spoke, “then when it gets dark enough we’ll use whatever’s at hand to overpower the guards and make a run from there. In that case, tell her we’ll meet her back at the compound.”
Ryan nodded. “It’s a decent plan,” he said.
“It’ll probably get us all killed,” Mike growled. “But in the long run so will staying.”
That day at the mine was a repeat of the day before except Mike was fighting through the sore muscles he’d created yesterday. Without gloves, Gavin built blisters upon blisters but he never complained. At the end of the day, Carey had to be lifted into the back of the truck as he’d stupidly dropped a rock on his foot. Mike honestly believed if the idiot had done it sooner, the guards would have shot him for trying to get out of work. But as he did it so late in the day, they couldn’t be bothered. In spite of how his foot must have pained him, Carey was in good spirits—another testimony to his stupidity. If he was thinking he wouldn’t have to work tomorrow because of it, he was likely wrong. And a gimpy foot meant he’d not be able to run as fast when the time came to bolt.
That night when they returned to the hut, Mike was surprised to see that several servings of food had been saved for him and Gavin. He ate silently until Ryan sidled over to his bunk. Mike stiffened, although he’d been waiting all day to hear of the priest’s meeting with Jaz. Tommy, Gavin and Terry clustered around to hear.
Ryan began speaking without preamble.
“Jaz said she’s stolen a chunk of C-4 from the ammo dump from a bloke she got friendly with last night. As she clearly lived to tell the tale, I didn’t ask for details.”
“C-4?” Mike said. His mouth fell open.
“Beats the shite out of a fire in the woods,” Gavin said. “Or screaming.”
“She’s unbelievable,” Mike said.
“She’s fecking Wonder Woman, is what she is,” Tommy said proudly. “Did she say how much she got?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Mike said. “An explosion is more than we could’ve hoped for. She’s giving us every chance to pull this off.”
“Do you have any suggestions about where exactly I should tell her to set the charge?” Ryan asked.
Mike narrowed his eyes at him. “I thought you said you couldn’t risk a third meeting.”
“Oh, that’s right. Yes, I did. Of course. Too right. Just got carried away.”
A long spate of coughing erupted from Davey’s bunk. He hadn’t gotten out of bed all day. The guards would surely take him to the sick tent tomorrow.
“Will he be strong enough to come with us?” Mike asked Terry in a low voice.
“I’ll carry him if I have to,” Terry said firmly.
A few hours later as Mike sat on his bunk, his arms still trembling from the heavy rocks he’d lifted that day, he ran the plan over and over in his mind. It was simple—the way Mike liked all his plans. But he better than anyone knew that just because the scheme didn’t have a lot of moving parts didn’t mean it couldn’t go badly wrong.
Something was bothering him in the back of his mind. He knew it had to do with either something Ryan had said or had hinted at. But it had been a long hard day and the relentless dissection of the details of the plan and the agonizing anticipation of tomorrow soon swamped the nagging feeling.
He envisioned the moment that the eclipse plunged the camp into darkness, with the explosion providing the distraction at noon. As soon as they heard it go off, he and the others would overpower the guards and meet Jaz at the gate entrance where they’d disappear into the woods that fringed the camp. The soldiers weren’t trackers, there were no dogs to worry about. His eyes widened. Did Jaz know where to meet them? Had he told Ryan to have her meet them at the front gate? Anxiety turned into intense fatigue and he forced himself to let it go. It was too late now. Whatever would be…
As Mike lay his head down and just before sleep claimed him the thought flitted through his brain that they were betting a whole lot of lives on the word of one murdering liar.
The man looked at least forty to Mac but claimed he was ten years younger. Sinead had found this one as they were driving down the street. The others they had found in what used to be the halfway house near the prison. That had been her idea and she’d been spot-on. Three men had been happy to pile into the van he and Sinead had purchased that afternoon. Three men only too happy to take their money for whatever depravity or atrocity that was required of them.
What ex-con wouldn’t be happy with cash, three squares and the opportunity to act out every base instinct that was in him? Except they weren’t ex-cons at all, of course. When the EMP dropped, the hydraulic locks on all the cages all over Ireland had ceased to work, instantly freeing every murdering, thieving scumbag in the country—including Mac. Same with the insane asylums.
He supposed he should be glad Sinead hadn’t suggested looking there. Not yet anyway.
“And all I have to do is drive around the country looking for women?” The man grinned showing most of his top teeth were gone, no doubt forced down his throat by somebody’s fist.
“There’ll be a few other tasks as we go on,” Mac said tightly.
Sinead must be out of her mind. Did she really expect these men to follow orders? Follow my orders?
“Count me in, your honor,” the man said, licking his lips and looking past Mac to where Sinead waited in the sedan in front of the van.
“There are three other men in the van,” Mac said. “You drive and follow us. If we lose you, we’ll assume you’re attempting to steal our vehicle—”
“Don’t fash yourself, squire,” the man said, snatching the keys from Mac’s fingers. “Why would I run from three squares and the chance to drive me own motor?”
“So he’s a good one?” Sinead asked as Mac joined her in the car.
“Sinead,” he said, “why wouldn’t any of these bastards turn on us? Have ye thought of that?”
“Sure, they won’t, Mac darlin,” Sinead said, putting the car in gear and glancing at the van in her rear view mirror. “I’ve got you to sort them out.”
She was mocking him. Mac clamped a lid on his building frustration. If she didn’t think he could handle them then why were they doing this? Earlier that afternoon, they’d paid a visit to the OB/GYN physician’s home. Since Mac had made it clear how he felt about the man Sinead had insisted he wait in the car while she went inside to talk to him. Just watching her come out of the bastard’s house, wreathed in smiles like all her troubles were over, gave Mac a sickening moment of worry.
Was she insane? Because up to now that hadn’t been something he’d seriously considered. But happily collaborating with known a sexual criminal wasn’t normal. Not in anybody’s book.
She still looked in the mirror at the van behind them. “Did you tell him about needing him in our insemination program?”
Lately she’d begun using that phrase like it was a real thing—as if all it took were special words to turn it into a proper business and not what it really was.
“Does the new man know there’ll be other perks to the job?”
“No, I didn’t tell him he’ll get to rape women as a part of his job description.”
She pressed her lips together in a firm line.
“What is the matter with you?” she said, her eyes on the road as she drove. “You know the procurement portion of our business cannot be a delicate one. That’s unfortunate, of course it is, but the women need to be found and then forcibly taken from situations where we have to assume people will resist us. We need men who will do what needs to be done.”
Mac knew that was a slap at him. He forced himself not to respond.
“Look, Mac,” she said, her voice soft and wheedling, “what I didn’t tell you earlier is that we’re getting more and more requests for older children.”
He looked at her and frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Since the demand for babies is outstripping our ability to supply them they’re asking for…children now too.”
Mac felt his stomach muscles clench. She wouldn’t.
“You’re not thinking of the children at the camp? The women’s children?”
“I don’t want to, Mac. I’m not a monster. Besides, the children are the only leverage I have over them. If their children are gone, the women might refuse to eat, or even self-abort. No, the answer is more women. And these men are how we get them.”
Mac kept his eyes on the road but he felt his stomach muscles tighten. A band of killers and degenerates who’ve only committed worse crimes since the EMP four years ago were going to be the answer to their problem? Sinead really was mad.
“As soon as we get back,” she said, “you’ll lead the new men on a raid. It will give you a chance to feel them out—and also to reinforce that you’re the boss. You’ll bring back new women and we’ll be able to go on as before. Problem solved.”
Mac watched Sinead’s profile as she spoke. Her face was relaxed as she outlined her plan to keep the camp going. For a moment he could even imagine how she must have looked as a girl. Surely, she must have been all plans and hopes and dreams. He knew some bad things had happened to her, but right now as she talked with excitement of her plans for the future, he saw the lass she must have been once.
Maybe my main job is to help her find her way back to that lass that the world hadn’t hurt. Maybe in the end, what Sinead really needs is someone to look out for her and make her feel safe.
That was a job Mac felt he was up for.
“Are you listening, Mac?”
“I am,” he said, starting to relax. Things were going to be fine. They had a plan and the world no longer cared about rules anyway. “I heard the cook talking about a caravan of gypsies camped out by the—”
“Don’t be stupid,” she said with impatience. “Gypsies inbreed. How much do you think people will pay for a cross-eyed simpleton? Stay away from the gypsies until we get really desperate. And we’re not there yet.”
“Where do ye suggest we find these childbearing women then? Back in Dublin?”
“I think we stick to the country as long as we can. When and if any kind of law does return to Ireland, it’ll come to the cities first. No, as it happens, I know of a functioning community of women not eighty kilometers from the camp.”
“Are ye serious?”
“As a canker sore, I am.” She glanced at his expression of surprise and laughed. “It’s a place where wayward girls are stored away like bad rubbish.”
“Is that what happened to you?”
Her face hardened in a flash. “Me mum and step-father dumped me there. Mostly just to get rid of me but I suppose I was a little too hot for me own good.”
Mac’s brow knitted together in confusion.
“Cor, Sinead, how is it no one’s ever heard of a community nearby with only women in it?”
“I’m probably one of only a very few people who know of it outside the Vatican and trust me, even they’ve forgotten about it by now.”
“The Vatican?”
“That’s right, lover. Starting tomorrow morning you and our new friends in the van behind us are going to take a trip to the convent of Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow.”
**********
Three days of living in the far corner of the compound had been hard on all of them. There was no point in working the ground or repairing any of the structural damage so Archie and John focused purely on trapping game for their meals. Sarah was afraid shooting game might call attention to themselves and so there were nights when all they ate was canned goods.
Are we really going to have to live like frightened church mice? she thought angrily as she opened a can of corn. Afraid that someone might know we’re here? Hiding in order to live?
She knew she needed to be a role model especially for the young people, but she was cranky and out of sorts. There was no doubt in her mind that her labor was coming and soon. She couldn’t rest or get comfortable. She was fidgety all the time and snapping at anybody who came too close. Even poor Archie.
John came into view down the walkway. He and Regan had been taking turns scouting the perimeter of the compound hourly. Again, Sarah thought with frustration, not that it would do any good if they were attacked—except to get to the root cellars in time and hide and pray the attackers didn’t do a thorough job of searching the place.
“Hey, Mom,” John said, “how do you feel?” With his rifle over his shoulder, a pistol jammed into one side of his belt and on the other a large Bowie knife in its sheaf, he looked like a young Davey Crockett. He’s supposed to be in school, she thought with dismay as she watched him. He’s an academic, not Daniel Boone.
“I’m fine,” she said, trying to position her legs so that she could stand. For the last three days, they had been sleeping in a lean-to next to the hog pen. Most nights it didn’t make any sense with a perfectly good cottage and four perfectly good beds not a half a block away but then she remembered how quickly the invaders had come at them and how unprepared they’d been. And then the hogs didn’t sound so bad after all.
“Of course you are,” he said with a grin. “Archie’s not limping any more.”
“Thank God. I was this close to leaving his ass behind. I so don’t want to have this baby in a manger.”
John laughed and gave her a hand to pull her to her feet.
“He’s loading the backpacks now. Sophia and Regan are putting some food together. Archie says we’ll be there before dinner.”
“That’s good, because I have a bad feeling about what a full day’s exercise does to a woman who’s nine months pregnant.”
“Positive thoughts, Mom.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
An hour later, they all trudged out the front gate. Everyone but Sarah carried full packs. Archie wouldn’t allow Sarah to carry more than a walking stick and she was already too fatigued to argue with him. She let the thrill of finally being on the move again and the hope of a real bed that night carry her through the first hour. Archie insisted they go by way of the woods. It was safer but Sarah knew it would take them much longer too.
“Not at-tall,” Archie said. “Didn’t I tell the lad we’d be there by nightfall?”
“I don’t know what you told him,” Sarah said, gasping for breath and leaning on her stick, “but he told me dinner time, so which is it?”
“Does it matter?” Archie said cheerfully. “You’re doing fine, so ye are!”
“Liar. I’m barely putting one foot in front of the other. Why don’t y’all go on ahead?”
“Sure, you’re a witty one, Sarah Donovan,” Archie said. “You’ll be making the time go that much faster with your jokes and teases.”
Regan trotted up beside Sarah. In the three days since they’d buried her mother, Sarah could tell something was different about the girl. She was quieter, less prone to ignite. The sight of Sophia no longer seemed to set her off. Sarah had talked with her on and off about the recent compound attack but Regan always assured her she was fine. Sarah wasn’t convinced.
“You all right then, Sarah?” Regan asked, her eyes scanning the bushes and drystone walls as she walked.
“Fine thanks. And you?”
“Sure it’s not me who’s about to have a baby,” Regan said.
“Thank you for reminding me.”
Regan moved on ahead, holding the straps of the heavy pack on her back. They cut into her shoulders.
“What did you pack?” Sarah asked Archie as they watched Regan join John and Sophia up ahead.
“The basics. Guns, ammunition. A little food.”
“Are you sure the convent will take us in?”
“They have to,” he said shrugging. “It’s a convent.”
“Are you sure it’s still there?”
“It’s there.”
“And hidden.”
“Sure not to worry, lass,” Archie said, reassuringly. “There’s no one could find it. Not in a million years. We’ll finally be safe there.”
“Good,” Sarah said, moving a hand down to hold her belly and reduce the shocks of her footfalls on it. “I’m so ready to be somewhere safe.”
Sinead stood in her office, Mac beside her and that useless excuse for a midwife cowering before her. It was literally unbelievable that they had been gone one night…one night!…and the stupid bitch had succeeded in botching one of their few remaining births. It took all Sinead’s powers of self-control not to slit the stupid cow’s throat. That and Mac’s hand on her arm.
“How the feck did it happen?” Sinead said between clenched teeth.
“These things happen from time to time,” Mrs. Reidy said, her eyes wide with fear. “It died inside her.”
“That is not acceptable!” Sinead shrieked.
“It was…prenatal,” Mrs. Reidy said. “The death did not happen during delivery.”
“Of course we just have your word for that, don’t we? And of course you’d say that!”
“The body is available for—”
“As if we have the facilities to do an autopsy! As you well know we don’t! I’ve a mind to kill you just for suggesting it!”
“Sinead,” Mac said in a soothing tone—that same tone that enraged her.
“There’s more,” the midwife said, now openly trembling.
Sinead had been in the process of turning away from the woman. “What are you talking about?”
Mrs. Reidy swallowed and looked at Mac as if for support.
“One of the men,” she said, “told me there was another death in the non pregnant women’s tent.”
Sinead just stared at her.
“A death?” Mac said, taking a step toward the woman. “Who? How?”
“That I don’t know,” Mrs. Reidy said, clearly glad to be speaking with Mac instead of Sinead. “Someone died. That’s all I know.”
“Get out,” Sinead said. The woman was backing out of the door as Sinead spoke.
Sinead looked at Mac. “I blame you for this.”
“I wasn’t even here!”
“You can’t control those men. You assured me the women would be fine in our absence.”
“I never said anything like that!” Mac said, clenching his jaw. “Besides, how do you know it’s not another suicide?”
“How can this be happening to me? First we lose the wankers we picked up in Dublin, then one of our only babies dies, and now one of the nonpregnant women too. I cannot get a fecking break!”
The van had disappeared three miles from the baby camp when they passed through the nearest village. Mac’s guess was that the bastards had stopped for a pint with their new cash. Whatever the reason, Sinead wasn’t happy. It didn’t bode well for the felons taking orders in the future.
“Go see if the stupid bitch got it wrong,” Sinead said. “Find out from the men if—”
A knock on the door made them both turn. The man named Dickie who’d driven the van from Dublin, opened the door.
“There you are, ye wanker!” Sinead said stomping over to him. “What the feck do ye mean driving off like that? Did we not make clear yer purpose here? And that’s not to be drinking half the day. If you feck with me, I swear—”
“Oy, squire,” Dickie said to Mac, “tell the bitch to shut her gob. We brung ye a present.”
Mac heard shuffling in the hall outside and pushed past Dickie to see the other three men from Dublin holding a young woman, her eyes wide with terror over the gag they’d put in her mouth.
“We had ta shut ‘er up,” Dickie said shrugging. “Her wailing was driving us around the bend.”
“You…you found her in the village?” Sinead said.
“Aye,” Dickie said. “She was herding a goat so we just…grabbed ‘er.”
Sinead started at the struggling girl and then Dickie. “Well done. Dr. Mac will see that you and your friends are rewarded for your initiative.”
“Initiative?” Mac said, unable to hide the anger in his voice. “I thought we said we weren’t going to soil our nest so close to home?”
“That was before our own women started dropping like flies,” Sinead said. “See that she’s secured, Mac, and that the men know to watch her closely.” She smiled at Dickie. “They always try to run right after we bring ‘em in.”
“Sinead, I don’t like this—” Mac said.
“I don’t give a shite what you like!” she shrieked. “I don’t like the fact that we only have one baby due to be born in the next four months! Now get the feck out of here, and get ready to go out first thing in the morning.”
“On the road? We just got back!”
“Now!” she screamed. “Get yer arse to the convent and bring back every living female you find—girls, babies, nuns, I don’t give a shite! Just do it!”
**********
Fiona watched four men dragging a struggling girl out of Sinead’s office. She’d taken Ciara outside to play an hour earlier and had seen Sinead and Mac return. She watched the couple go into Sinead’s office. Sinead was clearly unhappy. Fiona prayed it wasn’t because Megan’s little one had died. Her thoughts turned to Megan and she sent a prayer out to her and to God.
Please let her get pregnant soon. Please.
She watched the four men. They were new. She’d never seen them before. They looked somehow rougher, if that was possible, than the ones already in the camp. Where had they come from? Who were they?
Now Mac emerged from the building and caught up with the men. Fiona had many times found herself thinking she was seeing a humane side of Mac, but here was a vision of him as he really was. While the defenseless girl kicked and punched at her captors desperately, Mac never once looked at her as he spoke to one of the men.
Don’t be fooled into thinking he’s any different. If he were, he would’ve helped us before now.
Mac looked up and noticed Fiona watching him. He hesitated and then directed the men to the door in the fence—the door that led to the world where rape and abuse lived. Fiona clapped a helpless hand over her mouth as they dragged the girl through the door.
Was Julie in there? The men had come for Julie—and her baby—not three hours after she’d delivered the stillborn. Exhausted and heartsick, Julie hadn’t resisted them as they took her away. The rest of the women in the tent watched her being shuffled out the tent door. The next morning, when Fiona asked Eloise the cook if she’d seen her, she said that Megan was fine and had made friends.
Nothing on Julie.
If Sinead felt Julie was no more service to her, would she have let her go? Could Julie even now be wandering the countryside trying to find someone to listen to her about what was happening in the camp?
Or did they just kill her?
Ciara sat at Fiona’s feet, digging in the dirt with her hands. Fiona hadn’t had much hope that the child was benefiting from the exposure to sunlight and fresh air. But she didn’t know what else to do. Ciara had stopped eating and was growing weaker.
As Fiona stood looking over the courtyard, her hand on her belly, she prayed for Julie and Megan, for Jill and Bridget, for the women from the compound who’d suffered daily rape for five months now, and for the poor girl they’d just taken through the fence. She prayed also for her darling Ciara and for Declan, that he was alive and searching for her. And lastly she prayed for the baby inside her—who represented her hope that she would see his father again some day—the baby whom she hadn’t felt move in three days now.