Chapter 15
Blinking a few times, I finally answer. "I'm fine," I tell Miguelito, my voice shaky. "How did you find me?"
"I'll tell you later. Now let's get you out."
"Are you alone?" I ask, worried.
"Yes."
He gives me his only hand, his left one, and pulls me up. I had never realized how strong he was. "Thanks for helping me," I express.
"We don't have much time. I've got to get you back to Paradise Village."
I gape at him in disgust. "I'm not going back there," I snap.
"You have to," he says, grabbing my arm.
I jostle until I break away. Sprinting, I run with the conviction of someone fighting for her life.
He rushes after me. "Monica, come back! Come back, please!"
I keep running.
"Monica, the landmines are about to start!" he explains when he can't catch up to me. "Stop! Please stop or you'll die!" he pleads.
At first I think he's trying to fool me into discontinuing my escape but then I see the markers I knew would be there. They are sharp stakes in the ground painted a glowing yellow. I can even see them in the dark.
I stop running.
I sink to the ground.
When Miguelito reaches my slumping form, he sits next to me and doesn't say anything for a few seconds. I stare at what's beyond the markers with boiling frustration. "I can't go back," I finally mumble.
"You have to," he says gently.
I turn to look at him and can see his face with the bright light of the full moon. Something is very different about him.
"I can't," I repeat.
"You have--"
"Where's your stutter," I blurt, surprised to have finally realized that he not only looks different but sounds different too.
He stares uncomfortably at me. "M-m-my s-s-stutter?"
I glare at him. "Cut it out! Who are you trying to fool? You haven't had a stutter this whole time you've been with me."
He rolls his eyes in frustration. "Doggonit! With all the excitement I forgot to keep up with the charade!"
"What?"
"I was wondering how long I could keep fooling someone as smart as you."
"Fooling?"
"Okay, I'll come clean," he states, taking a breath. "Only because it's you. I used to stutter as a kid when I got nervous. When they stole me, I stuttered nonstop and couldn't piece sentences together. They thought there was something wrong not only with my tongue but my mind too. I played up to it."
"They assumed you were slow because of your stutter?"
"Yep."
"What idiots," I state.
"Yep."
"You fooled our jailers, but you also made sure you fooled us," I murmur.
"I had to."
"Why?"
"Why did you let them and us think that about you?"
He sighs before answering. "It's just a game-- a game that has served me very well."
"What do you mean?"
"The Elders trust me and let me get away with all kinds of things."
"I see."
"Do you?"
"You're the Elders' puppet," I grumble.
"No," he frowns. "I'm not their toy! I try to protect us slaves any way I can, and I try to help you."
"You mean like coming after me and then taking me back to where they'll kill me for sure?" I question, angry and sarcastic spikes in my voice.
His eyes lay on mine. "I wouldn’t let them kill you!"
"Then why are you forcing me to go back?"
"If I let you escape, you'll probably die, Monica. Can't you see that?"
"If I go back, I'll die anyway."
"That's where you're wrong. No one knows that you're gone."
"What?"
"I'm telling you the truth."
My sight sits on him incredulously. "How did you realize I had left? How did you find me?"
He clears his throat. "I always keep an eye on you."
"That's creepy," I burst.
"I can't help it. You've got quite a few people who are out to get you."
He's right. I can't deny it.
"Still, how did you find me?"
"I saw you leaving the Smythee household. Later, when I asked for you at the destiny-bride shack, Helga told me you were still with Jana, that you'd probably stay with her at Master Smythee's house since Betsey isn't allowed to stay there by herself. You know the rules the Elders have of never staying in a household by yourself for more than a few hours."
"So they think I'm at the Smythee house?"
"Yes, but I knew you weren't. I had seen how you looked during the ceremony earlier, and I didn't like it. I knew you were about to break."
"I still don't know how you found me here?"
"I remember seeing you as you watched the hunters. I knew that if you ever tried to escape, you'd be smart enough to escape from their route. Then all I had to do was follow your tracks."
"The tracks!" I exclaim. "I didn't even think of them."
"Don't worry about them. With the funeral of Beatrix, there are many more tracks leading here today. I just happen to know what your footsteps look like."
"You're seriously creeping me out with all this stalker stuff."
"Sorry, I don't mean to creep you out."
I sigh. "I do appreciate, though, the times you've come to my rescue."
He smiles warmly. "I don't like seeing you get hurt."
"I live in Paradise Village--how can I not get hurt," I grumble.
He nods, his face turning grim. "We'd better get back."
"Won't you be in trouble? Where do they think you're at?"
"They think I'm running an errand for one of the Elders."
"You really do get away with everything."
"Monica, stop stalling. We really need to get going."
"But--"
"Monica," he sighs, "it's the only way to survive. I wish there was another way but there isn't."
"There's got to be a way out of Paradise Village!"
"The Elders have put too many booby traps. Believe me, I've been trying to figure out for years how to get out of here. You don't want to go out there," he states, pointing towards the markers. "If the landmines don't get us, the dogs will. If the dogs don't get us, the Elders and their weapons will. If the Elders don't get us, any number of things that are creeping in the jungle will get us. It's very dangerous."
I hate the idea of going back, but I don't see that I have a choice. Sighing with frustration and anger, I nod at him. We push to our feet and start the long trek back. I have to quicken my stride to keep up with him. He doesn't speak. I don't either. With every step back to Paradise Village my heart gives a painful jolt.
My freedom is sliding through my fingers.
But what options do I have?
After a few hours of dread and swift movement, with only brief rest periods, Miguelito turns to me with a solemn expression. I glare at him because even though I know that all he's trying to do is help me, I can't get out of my head that he's returning me to slavery.
"I'm sorry," he mumbles as if he knows what I'm thinking.
I nod glumly. No words seem to be able to come out of my mouth.
"We're almost there," he states unhappily. "Please don't hate me forever."
A huge explosion erupts before I can say anything.