Marked
Chapter 11

Charles thrust a bow into Rachel’s hands.

The string notch dug into her palm and she tried her best not to drop it.

After much insisting that he teach them his way of fighting, they’d finally agreed and had joined him in the same clearing she had punched Hector in.

Glancing down at the bow that she had no idea what to do with, she noticed a set of initials engraved at the bottom.

DJ.

She stroked the initials with her fingertip and looked at Charles.

“Who’s DJ?” She asked.

Charles eyes snapped onto her so quick she had to fight back the urge to flinch.

“That’s none of yer business, girly and don’t you ever ask about her again!” The old man turned away from her. His shoulders worked up and down with each breath he took, and it was clear she had hit a nerve somewhere, but she wasn’t sure why. He thrust his bony finger towards the door.

“Alls you get yer butts outside. I’m going to teach you how to kill some poachers; now do it quick before I change me mind.”

Outside, it had gone dark.

Charles’ many contraptions hung from tree branches, glinting with slivers of moonlight. The dirt around them had been bleached white by the moon giving the woods a ghostly pallor. The clearing, and the area surrounding the cabin were a minefield of dangerous traps.

Strangely, though, it gave Rachel a sweet high- made her feel a thrill at knowing that if anyone came looking for them, they’d have to get through the traps first.

Once clear of the cabin, Rachel’s group stood in a small clearing while Charles fidgeted with a blanket-full of weapons he had brought from within his treasure chest. He laid them all out, revealing knifes, swords, and even a rusted pitchfork.

"C'mere, you, the pouty one." Charles said, motioning at Simone.

Hesitantly, Simone looked at Rachel.

Rachel shrugged.

"Well c'mon. I'm not getting any younger here."

Simone strode up to Charles, her hands stuffed into her pants.

Without preamble, Charles hand snaked out. Simone gave a small shriek and tried to jump out of the way, but his hand connected with her face.

"What the hell?" she cried, hand clasped to her reddening cheek.

Charles grinned and went at her again. Except a tall shadow intercepted him, catching his arching arm as it came down.

"We're not doing that." Hector said.

He was nearly two feet taller than Charles and broad shouldered.

The old man grimaced.

"Well how else is girlie supposed to learn?"

"Definitely not by getting slapped by someone stronger than her."

"Alright, tough guy. Let's go on to the next lesson. Rule number one when dealing with poachers my laddys it that you better never let them see ya coming.”

“Why is that rule number one?” Rachel asked.

Beside her, Simone glared at Charles. She wore the clothes Charles had given them--a pair of beige pants and a flannel shirt that made her look shapeless and boyish. Rachel assumed she probably didn’t look any better but at least she couldn’t look at herself.

“Welp you see girly, these poachers they be having some interestin’ little gadgets.”

Rachel was beginning to see that Charles loved theatrics and every time he was about to teach them something new about poachers, he had to make a show out of it.

The little old man pounced into a crouch. He picked up a rock and jabbed his finger against it, pointing it at each of the teenagers as if clicking a button. “They be having this thinga-magiges that will shoot a screeching sound--” He jumped again, all ninety pounds of him full of energy that seemed misplaced in a man his age. “And zap! Down you go like you ain’t even have no muscles or no bones!”

“That must have been what they used on our people back at the mountain,” Hector said. He returned to lean against a tree with his arms crossed over his chest and did not look amused.

“Okay, so we don’t let them see us. How do you suggest we do that, old man? We're not exactly invisible."

“Simple! You keep to the trees, like them monkeys do!” In the next moment he had grabbed a tree branch and hoisted himself up into the cover of leaves. With so very little lighting, it was almost impossible to see him flitting from tree to tree and after a moment Rachel gave up trying.

“Crazy old shit,” Juan muttered.

The sound of something whistled through the air before it pierced the corner of his jacket near his shoulder, pinning him to a tree. “What the hell?” Juan roared as he yanked himself loose. “You cut me! You’re gonna pay for that, you old bat!”

Charles chuckles filled the night air. “Y’all best be taking cover. I’m coming to getcha.”

The others eyed each other, not knowing what to do. Then an arrow shot out from the trees and grazed the side of Rachel’s neck. She clamped her hand over the wound and her fingers came back stained red.

Hector cursed. He dove for the center of the clearing and grabbed the only useful looking weapon-a sword. He tested its weight before he shoved Simone out of the way of an oncoming knife which he deflected with the sword with a skill that surprised Rachel.

He seemed like a natural-born fighter, though she’d never admit to anyone that she was impressed. Hector shook his head in frustration and moved toward a tree. “Juan, get over here and help me break a piece of this thing off.”

Juan and Hector used a knife to saw out a haphazard piece of log into something that semi-resembled a shield.

“Do you see him?” Simone whispered.

“No, but I can feel his eyes on us.” Rachel admitted. She clasped Simone’s hands in hers and together, they backed away slowly. “Let’s get behind a tree. Standing out here like this makes us easy targets.” As soon as the last word was out, knives began flying at them from an unknown place in the trees.

“Charles!” Rachel shouted, coming to her wits end. Clearly the lunatic was not shooting to kill but he had no qualms about making them bleed.

What kind of defense lesson was it anyway?

She began to rethink whether they were really all that safe with Charles to begin with.

As if reading her thoughts, Charles voice rang out from high above them. “This is the only way you fools are gonna learn. Y’alls have had a pretty sheltered life up until now with that pretty mountain of yours for protection but guess what little laddys? You’re in my world now and out here yous either a savage or yous dead!”

Hector approached the girls and pushed them behind him and his make-shift shield. He motioned for them to stay quiet and pointed at a moving, black mass, making its way up onto the tree where Charles voice was coming from.

Juan.

“Keep him talking,” Hector said in a low whisper. “Buy Juan some time. We need to end this, Charles is crazy."

“This is insane, Charles! We’re not going to fight you.” Rachel shouted to the trees. A million stars were twinkling above them like smiling eyes among the pitch-black sky. A cool breeze blew through the clearing, lifting a few strands of red hair into her eyes. She took a deep, steadying breath of forest air and waited for Charles to respond.

“Then I hope ya girlys enjoy getting beat!” A thud echoed after that and a few feet away Juan hit the ground, groaning. He rolled onto his side and his face looked livid.

“That’s it!” Juan rumbled. He made a move to stand when Charles appeared behind him, jumping down from a tree, and struck him across the back of the head with his bow.

Juan fell to the ground, his profanities silenced.

“Juan," Hector hissed, but there was no reply. "C’mon, it’s three against one, we can do this. Rachel, remember what I taught you?” Hector asked, as he led the girls toward Juan. More arrows were coming at them, but Hector lifted his shield and the arrows embedded themselves into the wood.

Rachel nodded though he was turned away from her. “Y-yes,”

“Then stay here and wait for me. If he attacks you while I check on Juan, try to fend him off until I get back.”

The girls began to retreat towards the trees just as Hector left them. That’s when Charles jumped down from a tree like an animal and caught Hector by surprise. He struck him on the side of the head, which brought him to his knees. At Charles second incoming blow, Hector lifted his wooden shield, but Charles easily deflected it.

Charles lunged at Hector. In a blinding motion, he dove to the ground and snapped something onto his ankle. Hector's legs went out from under him, and a rope dragged him across the earth toward a tree trunk--one of Charles's crafty snares until he was fetched up against it.

Hector fumbled at the shackle, just as Charles let out a primal battle cry and lunged towards the girls, his gray hair and arms flapping wildly as he charged.

“Oh hell no!” Simone shouted. She turned to run but Charles’ fingers wrapped around the back of her shirt and pushed her up against a tree. He pressed a knife against her throat and for one panicked second Rachel thought he really was going to slit her throat.

“There. Ya woulda been dead. Death by poacher!” Charles pulled Simone away from the tree a fraction of an inch and then slammed her head back into it, making her eyes go blank.

“Simone!” Rachel yelled. “You’re a lunatic!”

The little old man wiped saliva from his mouth and grinned a gap-toothed grin. “Maybe girly but I have survived all these years out here by me self, haven’t I? Call me what ya want but alls I’m trying to do is make yous stronger- a fighter.”

He was going to charge her again, she could see it in his eyes, so she dug her heals into the dirt, trying to ready herself for the impact. And sure enough, Charles ran toward her with a battle cry emanating from him lips.

"Rachel, look out!" Hector shouted.

But Rachel waited, not daring to breathe, until he was close enough to shove her elbow into his nose. Her bone connected with a sickening crack. But the little man was not deterred- he simply turned his face to the side, spat blood onto the dirt and continued to grab her. He pulled her towards him but Rachel kicked him in the shins, managing to pull away.

“Welp look at you, girly. I thought yous was the biggest wimp of them all!” Slashing his arm in a wide arc, he caught her on the forearm with the blade. It stung but she didn’t let it stop her. She was not going to let Charles push her around- her mother had already done enough of that her entire life and enough was enough.

She dashed toward the ground, rolling onto her side. She was near Hector but not close enough to free him. There wasn't time.

Twisting in his bindings, Hector kicked the sword he'd dropped toward her.

With a white-knuckled grip, she picked it up and pointed the tip towards Charles.

It was heavier than she had anticipated, and she had to spread her legs apart to withstand its weight, but she would manage it- from pure stubbornness if not strength. Charles grinned and appraised her with a look of approval. “That’s what I’m talking about, girlie!"

“Stop calling me that,” Rachel said gratingly. Then they were both at it in a deadly dance. Charles pounced on her and began hitting her with the edge of his palm, deflecting every single one of her slashes with ease. He knocked her on the side of the head and she saw black specks burst behind her eyes.

"Rachel!" Hector shouted again.

She staggered, swung again and missed but this time she managed to avoid another of Charles blows. He circled her and she followed, waiting. He sprung forward in that jack-in-the-box manner of his and with one swift kick he sent the sword flying from Rachel’s hand.

She wanted to curse but bit her tongue. Instead, she held her hands up like Hector had taught her.

"Charles, you lunatic. If you hurt, her--" Hector growled in frustration.

Charles kicked her forearms, but she didn’t let him through. When he pulled back for another kick and lifted his leg, Rachel surprised herself by grabbing his bony ankle and thrusting him around until he fell against a tree.

He was one persistent little person, she’d give him that but then again, so was she.

Charles was on her in less time than it had taken her to blink and he used his palm once more and hit her nose with it. She felt blood erupt from it and groaned. She stumbled back and tripped. Charles round house kicked her in the shoulder.

With a frustrated cry, she fell face-first into the dirt.

That’s when she spotted something near her. Her fingers wrapped around Hector's faux shield and waited. She had her back to Charles and her body was obscuring the object from his view. When he approached her, she lifted the shield and struck him across the face. His blood spattered her cheeks but even then he would not stop.

He kicked her in the stomach and then he kicked her in the face and that was more than she could handle. She stayed down, Charles’ barefoot feet in her peripheral vision.

“Damn it,” Hector groaned again as if the kick had also pained him.

And then Charles, “You weak mountain people.”

She must have looked like a hot mess but as Charles spat on her and began to retreat, something began to build inside her. It was a hot, flaming desire to not be weak- an anger so strong she could hardly feel her injuries over it. Her fingers wrapped around a pocketknife peeking from Simone's pant pocket and she shoved herself up. Maybe she didn’t know when to give up and maybe all this would earn her would be another kick to the face but she had to try- she had to prove she was not as weak as everyone thought her to be. She was not St. Rachel.

A foreign cry left her lips as she pushed herself forward and shoved an unsuspecting Charles into a tree with a force that knocked the breath out of them both. He was about to fight her off when she mimicked him and used the palm of her hand to strike his nose. Before he could move, she pressed the blade of her pocketknife to his throat, her forearm across his chest, and trapped him.

“Well would ya look at that? You do have a backbone after all.” Charles chuckled through bloodied teeth. “You’ve made this old man proud, girly.” Charles admitted and he did sound quite pleased.

Rachel fixed him with a stony glare. “And you pissed me off.” She muttered as she let her knife nick Charles on the throat.