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They were surrounded, but Tristan met the problem head on. He tapped Amy and Desmond on the back of their shoulders, signaling them to step back. They performed the same act on those in front of them, but no one notified Momo.
Her job was not suited for the background.
She unsheathed her blade slowly, letting Max and the riders take in the glint of the steel. Max was not impressed, though he made sure that he stayed off to the side. The circle surrounding Expedition One widened to create distance.
One of the impatient riders charged his horse towards Momo’s back. His brothers-in-arms began howling and shouting to drown out any noise of his approach, but Momo was alert. The horse was on the brink of barreling into her when she spun backwards and out of the way. She extended her sword towards the rider’s back and managed to stab under his shirt. Steel sliced into skin as she kept the blade’s dull back against his heavy shirt, preventing it from being cut through. With one swift motion, she pulled him off the horse and into the sand. He cried out and clutched at his back. It was not a shallow cut, but Momo had put no strength into it either. The circle widened.
“Don’t be scared,” Max shouted. “Fight the others then! They’re not fighting!”
“Sure, we aren’t,” Willa said, stepping next to Momo. She cracked her knuckles and motioned to Momo. “Mind if I get a little help? I’m burning up.”
Momo looked back at her in confusion. Willa had put one arm in her shirt so that it was no longer in her sleeve, and she had taken the other hand and extended the empty sleeve out as far as she could. After a few seconds, Momo understood. She sliced away the sleeve with her sword. Willa exposed her bare arm and they subsequently cut off Willa’s other sleeve, creating a tank-top out of the cotton long sleeve. Willa’s muscular arms were now exposed for all to see, and what they declared was that she was no novice.
Willa cracked her knuckles again, flexing her biceps for the riders to witness. She knew that intimidation was all a part of the battle.
Cameron handed the cocoon that Balin was captured in to Desmond. “I can’t let the girls have all the fun,” he said, taking off his coat.
Tristan laughed. “I’m surprised that you didn’t do that sooner.”
“I wasn’t trying to reveal my hand too soon. I like everyone thinking I’m a pushover.” When Cameron was done removing his coat and rolling up his sleeves, Tristan could see what Cameron was talking about. He was quite toned in physique, showing off years of hard work. Cameron closed his eyes and let the sun’s rays bake him, his dark brown skin glistening under the heat. He took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and then walked over to Momo. He nodded at her and smiled. “We’ll follow your lead,” he said.
Momo rushed forward, heading straight for the riders in front of Max. Max backed his horse up a little, surprised that he was being targeted. Did she have no morals? No ethics? He was just a kid!
Momo gripped the hilt of her sword tight, and then suddenly, it was as if her fingers unraveled.
The sword fell from her hands and onto the sand. The world felt as if it had stopped. Max blinked in confusion. Willa and Cameron stood back in shock. Momo stopped running and stood still, staring off into space. It felt as if the world was closing in around her, as if it were forming invisible walls. The walls were moving towards her quickly, trying to suffocate her.
Momo turned around carefully, as if she would lose her balance if she didn’t do it slowly. She reached for her sword, but her right hand began to tremble. It trembled, and then it shook, violently, like roaring tectonic plates. She fell to her knees. She clutched her right hand with her left, squeezing it hard, but then her left hand succumbed. It began to shake too, and Momo gave up the fight. Her hair fell over her face as the shaking moved up her forearms.
“Momo!” Cameron shouted, but the rider had already reached her. Savagely, he kicked her in the head, and she crashed into the sand. Sand got into her mouth, but she did not spit or sputter. Her face was like stone, and her mind was gone, taken to the past. Her body rose back up to a sitting position, but she was not in control.
“Momo!” Tristan shouted, rushing towards her. The rider who kicked her had doubled back and was preparing to kick her again. Tristan managed to intercept, receiving a kick to his chest. The wind was knocked out of him as he crashed into Momo’s body. They both sprawled out onto the sand.
“You’re going to pay for that!” Amy shouted, running towards the rider.
“NO!” Tristan coughed, waving his hand in the air. He climbed to his knees and waved to the rest of Expedition One. “Stand down!”
“That’s better,” Max muttered under his breath.
Tristan lifted Momo up and grabbed her shoulders. “Are you okay? What happened?”
Momo did not respond. She couldn’t respond.
“Momo,” Tristan said softly. He touched her cheek with one hand. “Momo, talk to me.” She said nothing. Her listless eyes seemed to not be aware of him, as if she were blind. “Momo, I don’t know what’s going on, but we’re here to help you.”
“Take em!” Max shouted. The circle of riders got significantly smaller.
“Wait!” Tristan shouted. “I’m surrendering!” He looked back at the group. “We’re surrendering, but you have to meet my conditions!”
“Slaves asking for conditions?” Max laughed, bringing his horse closer.
“Be careful,” a rider cautioned. “It could be a trick.” Max waved him off.
“Our friend is sick and hurt,” Tristan said, putting Momo’s head on his shoulder. “If you give her the care she needs, and you don’t hurt us anymore, we’ll come willingly.”
“You’ll be slaves,” Max reiterated.
“Aren’t willing slaves better than rebellious ones?”
“Can’t fight that logic,” the rider next to Max said. Max scowled at him.
“You have a deal,” Max said. “If you fight back at all...if any of you do, then the deal’s off.”
“Fine,” Tristan said, “and we’ll handle her. Don’t touch her.”
“Whatever, just keep up.”
Cameron and Willa came to Momo’s side and they each took an arm to lift her. Tristan helped to lift her up from the back.
“Just when I start to have a little faith in you,” Cameron said to Tristan. “You pull this stunt.”
“Not so loud,” Tristan said. “We need to show solidarity. They’ll be less likely to hurt us.”
“We’re slaves,” Cameron snapped. “You think they care?”
“Slaves in title, not in reality. We’ll play along for now.”
“It’s humiliating.”
“It’s a way out of this mess. What would you have done?”
“Not become slaves.”
“Sounds like you don’t have a plan then,” Tristan said.
“Listen to Tristan for now,” Willa said. “We can’t fight with Momo like this. They will use her in battle, and if our aim is to not lose people, we need to think differently.”
“Our aim?” Cameron scoffed. “What’s that supposed to mean? It’s okay to lose people sometimes?”
“If there is a mission to accomplish,” Willa said. “If there is a greater task to be performed. It is apparent that this is not Tristan’s wish as General.”
“General,” Cameron chuckled under his breath.
A rider came up beside them. “Quit the laughing. This isn’t supposed to be fun. We have a long way to travel before sundown, and if you can’t keep up, we have orders to leave you behind.”
“Sounds like a loophole,” Cameron smiled.
“What?” the rider said.
“If I’m left behind, I’m not a slave, right?” The rider kicked Cameron hard in the face, and Cameron fell to his knees. “Do that again and see what happens,” he snapped.
“Can you not damage the goods?” Max shouted from far in front. “We might sell them off.”
The rider removed his goggles so that Cameron could get a good look at his face. “Sell em? Well, I just might be willing to buy. I’ve been saving up for a rainy day.”
“You must have a lot of currency then,” Cameron muttered. “Don’t know if you’re smart or dumb, considering you live in the desert.”
The rider motioned to kick him again, but Willa blocked it by standing in the way and forming an X with her forearms. “You heard your master,” Willa said, glaring at him from behind her raised arms. “We are not to be touched.” She then turned to Cameron. “Don’t antagonize the enemy.”
“Whatever,” Cameron mumbled. He wiped a little blood from his lip.
The rider that kicked him smiled wide. “Name is Perriwinkle,” the rider said. “I’m known as Perry, but you will address me by my full name, given I may become your master one day.”
“Oh,” Cameron moaned under his breath, “there’s so much material there. So much I want to say.”
“Bite your tongue,” Willa said. “You’ll have your chance.”
Perry rode away, and Lorelai and the others felt comfortable enough to catch up.
“They aren’t the brightest bunch,” Desmond said. “Allowing us to converse freely like this...they are either amateurs or incompetent.”
“Both,” Cameron muttered.
“For the record,” Amy said. “I would have ripped off my clothes and jumped in to fight too, but no one was protecting the brains back here.”
“The brains?” Desmond inquired.
“Yeah, brains,” Amy said. “You and the pastor.”
“And me,” Balin said from inside the sack.
Cameron kicked it lightly. “Shut up. If we are slaves, what does that make you?”
“Equals?” Balin said. Cameron kicked the sack again.
“Stop it,” Tristan said. “There’s no point in dividing us further.”
“He’s not on our side,” Cameron said.
“I’m aware, but still, you never know what will happen out here.”
“Your naivety is beginning to annoy me.”
“Shut up!” a new rider shouted, appearing at their side. “Did you not hear my orders?”
“What’s going on?” Desmond asked. “Were their orders to follow?”
“We’re stopping for the night soon. The master is feeling nauseous.”
“Is it the heat?” Desmond asked in concern.
“Mind your business,” the rider said. “Just stay close. Don’t make us hunt you.”
“We’re not going anywhere,” Desmond said.
“To make sure, we’re going to be binding your crew. Don’t think about resisting.”
Willa looked past the riders and towards the front of the line, where Max had gotten off his horse. He was clutching his abdomen and dry heaving over the sand. Two riders rubbed his back, offering encouraging words. Desmond said something to Willa, but she didn’t hear him. Staring at Max, her mind began slipping—to a time that she desperately raced to forget.
