CHAPTER
46
Valuable Things
Wen sat with her ear pressed against the door, listening to the men speaking in the hallway. She could hear Junior’s worried voice, although she couldn’t make out the words, and then Second Dog’s sharp response, “Of course she knows! After tonight, we’ll have time. Stick with the plan and we won’t have to worry about the Matyos.”
Their footsteps approached. Wen scrambled away from the door and slumped back to the floor in the corner, closing her eyes and feigning sleep. The door opened, spilling light from the hall across her face. “Get up,” Second Dog ordered.
Wen sat up slowly, not even needing to pretend to be groggy. Junior came toward her with a cloth sack and she shrank back in renewed fear. “I . . . can’t . . . breathe in that. Just blindfold me. Please.” She hated the way she sounded, but Junior relented. He folded the cloth up and tightened it around her eyes, leaving her nose and mouth uncovered. They pulled her to her feet and told her to walk. Already weakened and without her sense of sight, her painstakingly reacquired sense of balance failed her. She swayed and stumbled, bumping against the wall. “What’s wrong with you?” Second Dog demanded. The two men took her elbows and led her through the house like a hobbled ewe. A door opened. For a blissful few seconds, cool night air slapped against her face. Then she was steered into the back of a car and shut inside.
The vehicle was full. Two men on either side of her penned her into the middle back seat. She heard Second Dog speak from the front passenger seat. “Let’s go. We have to get this done.” The driver started the car and it began to move.
Wen clenched her trembling hands together and pressed them between her knees. She was afraid but no longer panicked. She had been killed before. By all rights, she ought to have died in Port Massy eighteen years ago. Instead, she’d been given the chance to see her children grow up and to spend more years with Hilo, some of which had been difficult, but many of which had been happy. She’d overcome her injuries to stand in front of crowds of people and dozens of cameras to speak for the clan. She was the only wife of a Pillar to also be Pillarman. So she had no regrets about how she’d spent the gift of extra time in her life, and she promised herself that at least she would not beg, no matter what they did to her. She was, however, desperately worried about Shae and Dudo.
“Where’s Kaul Shae?” she asked. “What are you going to do with her?”
They did not answer her. The drive lasted for a long time, perhaps an hour, although Wen couldn’t be sure. At last, the car stopped. The men inside conversed in Shotarian. Two of them—Second Dog and the man on her left side—exited the car while the others waited behind. Long minutes passed, during which Wen wondered where they had gone, whether they were digging a shallow grave for her body.
A two-way radio crackled to life from the driver’s seat. Another curt conversation was exchanged over the radio, and then the barukan on Wen’s right side opened the door and exited the car. “Get out,” he ordered. She recognized Junior’s voice. Wen put her feet down firmly, holding on to the side of the car as she stood. She heard and smelled water, then the blindfold was pulled off her head, and she saw that they were on one end of a fog-obscured bridge spanning the Gondi River. Junior cut the tape around her wrists, then pointed her toward the bridge’s pedestrian path. “Walk,” he ordered, and prodded her forward.
Wen began to cross the bridge, Junior walking behind her. The cold, damp air filled her needy lungs. The fog thickened as they went farther out onto the water. Wen couldn’t see the end of the bridge; its silver girders disappeared into white mist. A few cars passed on the road in either direction, their lights smearing the pavement before disappearing, but the pedestrian walkway seemed entirely deserted. Wen hung on to the railing to steady her steps, but she regretted glancing over the side. It was a long drop to the dark, fast-moving water below.
“Stop,” Junior said. “Don’t move.” Wen heard him draw his pistol and then she felt the cold metal barrel of the weapon touch the back of her head. She remained motionless and kept her eyes open. She knew better than to expect her life to flash before her eyes. That was a myth. When death came, it was with terror and pain and nothing else.
“Is it your job to kill me, to prove yourself to the others?” she asked Junior. When the young man didn’t answer, she said, “Do you really want to be a part of such evil?”
“Shut up,” Junior whispered, but Wen heard the hint of doubt in his voice. “You don’t get to talk about evil. We’re the ones minding our own business, but the clans have to come in where you’re not welcome and fuck over everyone who doesn’t bow to you. If it were up to me,” Junior hissed fiercely, “I’d kill every last member of your family.”