The World Without Flags

And then there’s Eric. He needs me, I know it. If I can’t get free, he’ll die.

I tug at the cuffs, but they only cut deeper into my wrists. Finally, I stop and push my face against the rough bark of the tree. Pine, I think. Pine. The softest wood, Eric told me. But it’s hard enough to keep me here, chained up like a criminal.

Suddenly there’s a wild, high pitched scream. At first I think it’s me, calling out in frustration and fear.

Then I see things are much worse than I thought. It’s Doctor Bragg. His body is arced up, every muscle in his body tensed. A dark foam comes from his mouth and blood oozes from his eyes. My blood turns cold as ice. Doctor Bragg is not going to die easily.

He’s going to crack.

152

Frantically, I tug at my handcuffs. I hardly feel the pain as I pull, the blood welling up around the cuffs. Doctor Bragg’s stiff body convulses again. Soon he will rise up, cracked, crazed, ready to tear apart the first living thing he encounters: me. I thrash against my cuffs, hoping that the blood will lubricate my wrists, allowing me to slip free and run away. But Sydney, probably still enraged that I had tricked and lied to them, made the cuffs too tight for that. Even if I broke my wrist, I don’t think I would come free.

My desperation makes me scream. “Help!” I yell. “Help me!” No one comes.

Doctor Bragg howls into air, his scream ending in a long gurgle as the sound emerges from the black foam surging from his mouth.

My heart beating rapidly, I know I have to try. I have to try to bite off my own hand. I look down at my wrist and sob. Do it! Don’t think about it! You don’t have time to think! Just do it! I sob again, but this time I don’t think. I move my head down to my wrist and open my mouth. I taste blood as I put my mouth around my wrist. My teeth press down.

Then I hear a whicker and I look up, my mouth on my wrist. It’s Tangerine, looking toward Doctor Bragg and tossing her head. Her eyes are large and dark with fear.

When Doctor Bragg makes another low cry, his body tensing, Tangerine turns to one side, tossing her head. Then I see it. She’s still saddled, and, strapped to her saddle is a knife. Not any knife. MY knife, the one Eric always told to keep sharpened. Randy must’ve taken it from me when he knocked me out and kept it for himself. I need that knife. I need Tangerine.

Closing my eyes, I swallow. Tangerine never comes to me.

I breathe calmly. Then, cupping my hands, I purse my lips, and make kissing noises.

Tangerine freezes like she’s stunned.

I have to be careful not to spook her. Or I’m dead.

I hold my cupped hands higher and make kissing noises. “Come on, now,” I coax her. I cluck my tongue like Randy. “Come on, now, come get some food,” I tell her. Tangerine whickers and takes a step forward doubtfully.

I snap my tongue and then say, “Come on, now, girl, don’t be scared.” I hold up my hands as if I’m cradling a handful of maple sugar cubes. “Get some sugar, girl.”

Tangerine tosses her head one more time before she comes forward, sniffing toward my hand. Gently, as she moves forward, I rotate around the tree, forcing the horse to come closer, around the tree, the saddle brushing up against the bark of the pine.

“Good girl,” I say.

Doctor Bragg gives out another inhuman scream, and Tangerine bolts, galloping away into the forest. I don’t watch her go.

Instead, I watch as Doctor Bragg leaps up from his bed, his eyes dark with blood, dark, thick foam coursing from his mouth. His dark eyes fix on me and his features contort into a gray perversion of a human face. He screams again and then sprints toward me, arms pinwheeling unnaturally around him.

I rotate around the trunk to keep the tree between us. Then, as he hits the tree, snarling like an animal, I step around and, using what little space I have, I thrust out. Doctor Bragg stands up straight as if confused. The animal madness drops from his face and he collapses, my knife embedded in his right eye up to hilt.

153

Out of breath, I collapse against the pine tree. As I try to focus, I feel the pain come again from my wrists, a burning, pulsing pain. With my eyes close, I can still taste my own blood in my mouth and I feel sick thinking I was so desperate, I was going to try to bite through my own wrist. The thought makes chills of fear go through me like a wave.

I push myself away from the tree, listening to the sound of the chain on my handcuffs clinking together. I hear the wind through the trees, the distant crackle of gunfire in Cairo, the sound of my feet in the dry pine needles. I have to get free. I have to find Eric, get him far away from Randy, far away from the Stars, far away from everything. Where he can be safe.

If I’m going to do that, I need to get out of these handcuffs.