FIFTY-NINE

Mason took the girl first. The one named Thirsty. He took her from her bed at the side of the shanty where the whore had trapped him earlier in the day.

He was impressed the girl didn’t shriek. It’s what saved her life.

Mason wasn’t stupid. He assumed that among the shantytown people, there was a common loyalty. They’d fight each other but would join forces against outsiders. That’s why when, in the dark, he’d been approached by a boy offering any kind of service, he’d made sure the boy didn’t run away after Mason’s bribe to learn where Thirsty and her mother lived. He’d stayed right beside the boy all the way up to the shanty, not trusting that the boy wouldn’t look for friends to interfere with his plans for the whore. The boy had knocked on the door—a familiar voice, saying he had a message. Mason had pushed his way inside when the whore opened the door. That boy was unconscious now, dragged inside the whore’s shanty, his body blocking the closed door. Mason had dropped him after Tasering him, ignoring the whore and going straight to the bed for her daughter.

Yeah. Mason loved his rechargeable Taser.

Now Mason had Thirsty by the hair, knife to her throat. The shanty walls were thin enough that noise would likely carry to other shanties in this crowded area. Yup. Good thing she was smart enough to stay quiet.

“You got some light?” Mason asked in a conversational tone. “Let’s brighten this place up.”

“Who are you?” the woman asked.

“Get some light. And don’t think about yelling for help. Your little girl won’t live but a second or two if you do that.”

Rustling. Then the strike of a match, the flame touching a small oil lamp.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Mason said. He pulled back on the little girl’s hair, exposing her throat even more. “I’m sure you can see this knife. If you’re smart, she’ll live. I like her.”

“You,” the woman said. Horror and shock. Mason liked that.

“Me,” Mason answered. “I had a few hours to kill, thought I’d spend them killing. Didn’t like the way we were interrupted the last time we were together. Thought I’d make up for it.”

“It wasn’t me,” the woman said. “I have no choice. Working for those men.”

“I’ve been giving it thought,” Mason said. “The last thing you said. Something like, ‘Take out his good eye. Let him live.’”

He paused to enjoy the sight of the woman biting the inside of her cheek. Mason had no doubt that he looked like a nightmare to her. His face still dirty with the smudged soot. And his stitched-shut blind eye no longer hidden by the patch. He’d put that in his pocket, wanting her to see it in all its rat-bitten glory.

“You want me scared, don’t you?” she said.

“I usually don’t think ahead when I do something like this. I like to go with the flow.”

“I’m scared,” she said. “Don’t hurt her.”

“Thought she was your weakness.”

“Take from me what you want.”

“Maybe I want to take her,” Mason said, stroking the knife against the girl’s throat. “You were going to let me live without sight. How about I let you live without her?”

He expected a big reaction from the whore, but instead she grew very still as she dropped her voice to near silence.

“I named her Thirsty,” the woman said. “Because that’s what it took to have her. Drinking hardly any water. What they put in it keeps a woman sterile. Controls the population. Unless you want to apply for a child; then you get some chemical that balances out what’s in the water. But once you apply for a child, you lose freedom. So I went thirsty until she came along. Then my husband died, and I ran out of choices. Please don’t hurt my little girl.”

Mason wasn’t against the begging that came with terror. He waited to see if she’d say anything else.

“What do you want?” she whispered. “Anything you want that I can give, it’s yours.”

Mason felt something warm on his fingers. For a couple of moments, he wondered if he’d pressed the knife too hard against Thirsty’s thin little throat. He glanced down, expecting blood. Instead, he saw tears that had streamed down the girl’s face, down her chin and onto his fingers.

“Anything?” Mason said.

“Anything.”

He smiled. “I came in here to cut your eyes. Make you blind the way you wanted me to be blind. But I’ve changed my mind.”

“Not her,” the woman said. “Whatever it is, put it on me.”

“I didn’t change my mind about leaving you blind,” Mason said. “Just how it’ll get done. You want this girl alive bad enough, then all you need to do is cut your eyes instead of me doing it. Then I’ll go.”

“What?”

Mason truly was enjoying this. “Remember when I asked what it was like? You’re the one who told me that you live blind or you die. So that’s your choice. Live blind. Or die. Along with your girl.”