Dread Nation (Dread Nation #1)(63)

That was the third time a person tried to murder me.

It was the night before the major turned shambler. He’d come in to visit Momma. It was late, and his footfalls were heavy as he climbed the stairs in a whiskey-fueled haze. He slammed the door open loud enough that even the aunties sleeping in the kitchen had heard the crash.

Momma, for her part, was unperturbed. She was busy reciting a bit of Shakespeare, The Tempest to be exact, when he walked in. I hadn’t been able to figure out why she wanted to read at such a late hour, but one glance at the major’s bleary-eyed glare and I had an inkling.

“Pet and I are reading, Jonas.” Momma never called me Jane in front of the major. Her own grandmother’s name had been Jane, and perhaps she feared that the coincidence would be enough to make the major peer more closely at my features, to compare my stubborn chin and narrow nose to Momma’s own features.

“Yer my wife,” he slurred. “I demand you fulfill your duties.”

“Your belly is full, your estate is safe and prosperous, and you’re drunk on whiskey from my own still. I’d say I’ve done more than enough to fulfill my duties.”

For a moment the air was heavy with tension, and I huddled closer to Momma, fearful of what was about to happen.

The major laughed, a bitter sound, before crossing the room and snatching me up by the back of my head and dragging me across the bed so that he could grab me by the throat. He lifted me up effortlessly, his large fingers wrapped around my neck.

“I am the master here, you ungrateful bitch. I’ll tell you when enough is enough.”

He then squeezed, slowly choking me, pressing so hard that I saw spots. I clawed at his hand, but I was little, and nothing I did seemed to make much difference.

That was when Momma stood up and slammed the complete works of William Shakespeare into the side of the major’s head. His grip immediately went slack, and I crashed to the ground, sobbing as I was finally able to breathe again.

“Jane, go down to the kitchens and tell Auntie Aggie that you need to stay out of sight for a few days, okay?”

I’d nodded, hot tears running down my face, and I ran down the stairs as quickly as I could. Auntie Aggie was waiting for me, and she hurried me back to her room, tucking me into bed next to her and whispering kind words as I cried myself to sleep.

The next night the major turned shambler and that was the end of him.

Now, I climb out of bed in the dark, grabbing my boots, carrying them so I can put them on once I’m outside. I can’t stay here, suffocated by my thoughts, choking on my dark memories. I need a moment of freedom, no matter how fleeting it may be.

From below come the sounds of merriment, men shouting and women laughing. Payday has been the loudest night yet, no surprise there. I ain’t sure what time it is, but apparently the party never ends, despite Sheriff Snyder’s alleged curfew.

“Where you going?” someone whispers at me from the dark. I don’t know anyone’s voice well enough to be certain whose it is, but I’m guessing it’s Ida.

“Out.”

“You can’t. There’s curfew. You leave and the sheriff and his boys will make an example of you.”

I shrug, then realize that whoever it is can’t see me in the dark. “Don’t worry about me, I can deal with the consequences.”

“Let the chickenhead figure it out herself,” someone else snaps. “And be quiet. The rest of this town may not care about getting a full night’s rest, but I do.”

The room settles down amid grumbling and I go to the door to slip out. Only, when I go to turn the knob, it doesn’t move.

At some point in the night they locked us in.

I don’t even blink, just step carefully through the room trying to get to the open window, making all attempts to keep my feet away from sleeping forms. I’ve almost made it out when a hand grabs my ankle.

“You should go back to bed,” the deep voice mumbles blearily. The big girl on the team that mends the interior fences and the one that woke us up the first day. Cora. She always seems to be watching me, and I don’t need a spotlight to know a snitch when I see one.

“I appreciate the concern, but I’ve had enough sleep.”

The hand ratchets down tighter.

“We don’t cause trouble here, girlie. As long as we follow the rules things are fine. So that means you go back to bed, or I’ll put you there.”

I cross my arms and consider my options. I could go back to the pile of blankets that passes for my bed and wait for morning to come, which by my estimation would be another few hours or so. But that means backing down from Cora, and I’ve seen her kind. She’ll do everything the people in charge tell her to, even if that means she ends up broken and bloody. She’s one of those people that never learned to breathe, never understood the true meaning of freedom. She’s a dog, happy even with a cruel master. She eats her three squares and takes her bit of pocket change and happily wears the collar around her throat, because that’s enough for her.

But it ain’t for me.

So instead of meekly going along with her commands, I ready myself, and say, “If you don’t let me go, I’m going to break that arm of yours, and I’m afraid that would be a most unfortunate turn of events.”

The grip on my ankle tightens painfully, and Cora pulls my foot, unbalancing me and sending me crashing to the floor. It’s exactly what I expected her to do. I swing my legs around, a whirlwind of motion, catching her in the face as she goes to stand and using my momentum to climb to my feet.