CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Seventy miles west of Kiron, Iowa was a large tract of land that seemed to have no name, no mailbox, and no way in. The people in town all said, ‘stay away’, the owners are rude, crazy, and won’t let you on the property. But the men of Shadow Warriors didn’t adhere to that advice.
From a very tiny grouping of trees, Irish, Ethan, Major, and Brix stood with binoculars getting an idea of the layout of the land. They spotted seven homes, all at least a mile from one another but built in an identical fashion.
Women were in the yards working, hanging laundry, tending to chickens and goats, but there wasn’t one sign of any men.
“What do they do, sit on their fat asses and just watch these poor women work themselves to the bone?” asked Major.
“It looks that way,” said Ethan.
He held the binoculars up to his face again and spotted a man dragging a woman behind him. She had a rope around her neck, gagging, her face red. As he passed each home, as if to parade her by them, the women looked down, not daring to say or do anything.
“What the fuck is he doing?” asked Brix.
“I don’t know but it looks like he’s headed this way. Move back,” said Ethan.
As the man and woman got closer, they could hear her gasping for breath, choking and coughing.
“You’ll never learn your lesson, will you Esther. You will service me when I wake and then again after breakfast. I don’t care if your body is old. You were bred to do this for me.”
“P-please,” she gasped. “P-please don’t do this. I won’t survive another one.”
“Another one,” frowned Major.
Cloaked beneath the stealth netting, they watched him drag her to a tree in the center of their little shady spot. He wrapped her arms around the tree, tying them tightly. Then, he tore the thin cotton dress from her back.
“Fuck no,” said Ethan.
“Your first husband was weak, Esther. He should have beat you more. I require more of my wife and if you can’t provide it, I will find another.”
“P-please. Just let me go to my son,” she whispered.
“Your son? He’s as pathetic as you are! No wife. No children. He will never be allowed back here until he can show us all that he is able to provide stock for our stables.” The man walked slowly backward, the whip slashing the air with a loud crack.
It didn’t touch the woman, not yet, but she cried out anyway and he laughed, loving the reaction he was getting from her.
“This will be the last time, Esther. I will be rid of you as of today and no one will blame me.” He pulled back his arm and tried to flick the whip forward but something was blocking him. It was an iron grip around his arm, causing him so much pain he yelled out.
Esther couldn’t turn her head fully to see him, only that his arm was mid-air, the whip dangling from it. Then, suddenly the whip was flung across the forest floor.
“You like to beat women you pathetic little shrimp dick bastard?” growled Ethan.
“Wh-who are you?” he asked as a face suddenly appeared before him, then a body. “Who are you?”
“You don’t deserve to know my name,” said Ethan. “But I will bury you here beneath this tree and you will never touch another woman again.”
Ethan gripped his throat, twisting his own body to maneuver behind him. With his other arm, he placed it across the forehead of the man. With all his strength, he lifted his head, then knelt and slammed his neck over the back of his thigh.
The loud cracking made Esther jump, thinking it was the whip. But when she felt nothing except the sting of those wounds from the day before, she closed her eyes and sobbed.
“It’s alright,” whispered Brix. “We’re going to get you out of here.”
“No. No, they’ll come for me. They’ll find me and beat me again. Give me to someone worse. I just want to find my son,” she pleaded, falling to the forest floor as the ropes were cut.
“Jesus,” whispered Irish. “Look at her back.”
The open wounds were raw and new. But it wasn’t just one set, it was several given over multiple days. As they looked at her body, she had them on the backs of her thighs and calves as well.
“We need to get her to a hospital,” said Brix. He touched her back with a clean, wet antiseptic wipe and she gasped, immediately passing out. “That will make this easier. Let’s go.”
“How is she?” asked Finn staring down at Willa.
“She’s barely alive. From what Kennedy said, she’s been whipped at last four or five days in a row. But there are other beatings as well. Scars from knives, sticks, just about anything you can imagine. Her left arm was broken and not set properly. We’re certain that’s caused her constant pain.
“For now, we’re dressing the wounds, resetting bone, and giving her something to keep her under for the pain.”
“When can we speak to her?” asked Finn.
“Finn, we don’t even know if that’s his mother,” said Patrick.
“It is,” said Willa. “She was able to tell us her name. Esther. I asked if Tyler Moses was her son and she nodded. I don’t know how you got lucky, or she got lucky, but that’s his mother.”
“Do we take her to the pond?” asked River.
“No,” said Kennedy walking toward them. “That woman is so screwed up in the head we can’t be sure she wouldn’t tell others. She’ll heal. It will be long and painful but she’ll heal. You just have to give us a few days.”
“Alright,” nodded Ham. “But not a few days, Kennedy. I need to speak to her within twenty-four hours if we haven’t found his home. That’s all the time I can give you.” Kennedy nodded.
“I’ll find a way to make that work.”