Payne sat up in the box, trying to view the exhibition that Ndjai was going to put on for him. Unfortunately, as it turned out, it was a show in which he was forced to participate.
With a grin on his face, Ndjai climbed on top of the cube and lowered the zipper on his pants. “The reason for my visit, Mr. Payne, was to give you your daily dose of water, but seeing how uncooperative you have been, I have decided to alter your menu.”
A sudden stream of golden liquid fell from above, surging through the slits of the cube like a warm waterfall. By lowering his head and closing his eyes, Payne did his best to avoid the downpour, but his restricted mobility prevented much success.
“What do you think of my aim now?”
Payne wanted to answer, desperately wanted to scream insults at the sadistic guard, but he couldn’t risk saying a word. The possibility of the yellow liquid seeping past his cracked lips and into his mouth was far too great. Besides, he knew that he would somehow escape from the Devil’s Box and make Ndjai pay for his actions.
And when he did, he would pay for them with his life.
CHAPTER 37
IT
was hard for Ariane to believe, but her seemingly perfect life was spiraling out of control. Two days earlier, she was a successful bank executive, preparing to spend a relaxing holiday with the man she loved. The only activities on her itinerary were golfing, swimming, and fooling around. No business. No stress. Just pleasure. She’d been looking forward to it all summer and had done everything in her power to plan the perfect weekend.
Unfortunately, her plans were altered.
In a matter of forty-eight hours, she’d been drugged, kidnapped, and smuggled to Louisiana, where she was being tortured for the sins of relatives she’d never even known existed. Her days, which used to be filled with meetings and paperwork in an air-conditioned office, were now occupied with grueling field labor and the stinging crack of leather whips in the sweltering Southern sun.
If it wasn’t for her inner strength, a trait that was tested and fortified when her parents died several years before, she would have broken down. As it was, she stubbornly clung to hope, realizing that things were never as bad as they seemed.
Well, almost never.
Her current situation offered little hope, and because of that she decided to push her luck. While pulling weeds from the untilled ground, Ariane glanced around the spacious field, searching for someone to talk to. She knew that conversation of any kind was forbidden by the guards, but she had the feeling if she didn’t do something soon, there was a very good chance she was going to end up dead. And she wasn’t about to let that happen without a fight.
A young woman, no more than eighteen years old, stood fifty feet away from Ariane, busily plucking rocks from the dark brown dirt. She tried to signal the girl from a distance, hoping to catch her eye, but the teen remained focused on her task.
Undaunted by the threat of punishment, Ariane moved her wicker basket to the east, carefully approaching the teenager.
“Hello,” she mumbled under her breath. “My name’s Ariane.”
The athletic-looking girl was stunned at first, surprised that someone had the guts to speak under the close watch of the guards. After suppressing her shock, she whispered back.
“Kelly Metz.” She wiped the dirt from her hands on her orange work pants, then brushed the brown hair from her eyes. “Where you from?”
Ariane glanced around. The closest guard was over one hundred feet away. “Pittsburgh. What about you?”
“Farrell, Missouri.” As she spoke, she continued ripping rocks from the soil. “Heard of it?”
Ariane shook her head. There was no sense speaking when a gesture would do. “How old are you?”
Now it was Kelly’s turn to be cautious. Like a student trying to cheat on a test, she made sure the coast was clear. “Seventeen.” She carefully checked a second time, then continued. “Are you new? I don’t remember seeing you in the field before.”
“I think I got here yesterday. I’m not sure, though. Everything’s kind of foggy.”
Kelly nodded in understanding. “The drugs’ll wear off, you know. Don’t worry. Just hang in there. You’ll get through this.”
Ariane smiled at the optimism. She found it amazing that a girl Kelly’s age was holding up so well in such adverse conditions. “You here alone?”
Kelly searched for the guards. They were busy hassling one of the male slaves. “Me and my family are a part of Group One. Ten of us in all.”
Ariane thought back to earlier in the day, back when it was still dark. If she remembered correctly, Kelly was in Master Holmes’s group. “Are you the one with the cute little brother?”
For the first time in a long time, Kelly wanted to laugh. “I’ve heard my brother called a lot of things, but certainly never cute.” She looked over her shoulder, paranoid. “The cute one is Scooter. He’s my cousin.”
“But you have a brother, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” she whispered. “His name’s Donny.”
Something about Kelly’s voice worried Ariane. She wasn’t sure why, but she could tell something was wrong. She quickly looked for the nearest guard, who was still occupied with the men. “What’s going on, Kelly? Is something wrong with your brother?”
She brushed the hair from her face one more time. “He’s not what you would call tough. I get the feeling that he isn’t holding up too well.”
Ariane found that hard to believe. If Donny was anything like his sister, he was probably cutting down trees with his bare hands. “Are you sure? ’Cause you seem to be doing great.”
“I play sports year-round, so physical stuff doesn’t bother me. Donny, on the other hand, is in the band. The most exertion he gets is playing his trumpet.”
“So, he’s breaking down physically?”
“And mentally. My dad was tortured the first night we were here. I think that got to him.”
Ariane tried to picture the members of Group One. She distinctly remembered a middle-aged man with a bandaged hand. “What did they do to him?”
Kelly took a deep breath. “They cut off his finger. He didn’t even do anything wrong, but they still chopped it off. Probably to prove that they were in charge.”
Ariane was surprised that Kelly was handling it so well. Ariane knew there was no way she could have witnessed a loved one tortured and remained so calm—especially back when she was a teenager.
“How about your cousins? Have you talked to them?”
“Not really, but I can tell Susan’s on the edge. She’s real close to losing it.”
“Which one is Susan?”
“She’s a year younger than me. She’s petite, blond hair. Very pretty.”
Ariane tried to place the girl in her mind but couldn’t. Too many faces, too little time.
“She was abused on the same night as my dad. Master Jackson cut off all of her clothes in front of everybody. I think that rattled her something good.”
“He cut off her clothes? What did he do that for?”
Kelly shrugged. “She was wearing a bikini, so she kind of stood out.”
“And you think she’s in bad shape?”
She nodded. “I don’t think she’s gonna make it.”
DESPITE
her best effort, it took Ariane over an hour to cross the field—her basket of weeds and the guards’ careful scrutiny made her movement difficult—but in time she eventually made her way to Susan Ross.
As she approached the teen, the first thing she noticed were her eyes. They were striking, the color of the perfect summertime sky. But it was more than their light blue hue that made them stand out. It was also the tears.
Apparently, Kelly Metz was right. Her cousin was close to losing it.
Ariane inched closer, hoping to comfort the girl with a word or two, but the move backfired. Susan sensed Ariane’s approach and tensed with fear.
“Get away from me!” she shrieked. “Just leave me alone!”
The outburst stopped Ariane in her tracks. She assumed the plea was loud enough to be heard by the guards, and the last thing in the world she wanted to do was attract their attention. She had seen how rough they were with the other slaves and desperately wanted to avoid that.
“Calm down,” Ariane whispered. “You don’t have to be afraid of me. I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”
“I’m fine!” she screeched, not giving a damn if the guards heard her or not. “Are you happy? Now get away from me!”
Ariane was flabbergasted by Susan’s behavior, but under the circumstances she was willing to cut the kid some slack. “You’ve got to be quiet.”
She glanced over her shoulder, half expecting a stampede of guards to be headed her way, and felt a great sense of relief when she realized their attention was still focused on the men.
“I realize you don’t know me and probably don’t trust me, but your cousin Kelly sent me over here to check on you.”
The frightened girl stared at Ariane coldly. Her body language and icy glare suggested that trust was no longer in her vocabulary.
“You know, I saw you and Scooter at the ceremony this morning. He sure is a cutie.”
Susan blinked a few times but didn’t respond.
“How old is he?”
She licked her parched lips, giving the question some thought. “Eight.”
Ariane grinned, relieved that the girl was willing to talk. “Well, he’s just about the cutest eight-year-old I’ve ever seen. He looks like a little athlete.”
Susan nodded, but refused to comment.
“How’s he holding up? He seems like he’s doing pretty well considering the circumstances.”
She shrugged, never shifting her eyes from Ariane’s face.
“And you? What about you? How are you doing?”
Susan breathed deeply, sucking in the air through her dry mouth. “What do you want? There has to be some reason you’re talking to me. You don’t even know me.”
Ariane smiled warmly. “Like I said, your cousin wanted me to check on you.”
The answer didn’t sit well with Susan. “Then why didn’t Kelly come over here herself? Why’d she send you?”
Ariane moved closer, hoping her proximity would lower the volume of Susan’s voice. “No reason. I’m trying to talk to as many people as possible, and when I talked to your cousin, she mentioned that she was worried about you.”
“She’s worried about
me
? That would be a first from my family.”
“Come on! Don’t be silly. Your family’s worried about you. They’ve got to be.”
The statement brought a new batch of tears to the teen’s eyes. “You don’t know my family very well, do you? None of them have even asked how I’m doing. Not one of them.”
“Well, I’m asking you. How are you doing, Susan?”
“How the hell do you think I’m doing? Every time I turn around one of the guards is touching me. Last night I saw my dad’s ear get cut off. And when I do get to see my family, all my parents care about are my younger brothers. I mean, would it kill them to ask how I am?”
Ariane couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Despite the gravity of their situation, Susan was showing signs of sibling jealousy. How petty could someone be? “Don’t take it personally. I’m sure your parents are paying them more attention because they feel they need it. You’re older. They probably figure you can handle things by yourself.”
Susan wiped the moisture from her face. “Great! You’re on their side, too.”
“It’s not about sides. It’s about—”
“Just get away from me! I don’t want to hear it.”
“Susan.”
“Get away from me!” she repeated louder. “I don’t want to talk to you!”
Ariane pleaded for her to calm down, but the teen refused to listen. “Susan, if you keep making noise, the guards are going to come over and punish us.”
“Good! At least that’ll get you away from me!”
“Susan, I’m just trying to help.”
“I told you. I don’t want your help.” Susan picked up her wicker basket and began walking away. “And if you follow me, I’ll scream for the guards. I swear to God. I’ll scream.”
Despite the threat, Ariane was tempted to run after her. In her mind, she figured Susan wasn’t a bad kid. She was just a traumatized teen, one who was looking for someone to cling to. And if Ariane could be that person, she’d love to be able to help.
Unfortunately, the Plantation wasn’t the best place to make friends, so Ariane’s act of kindness would have to wait for another day. That is, if both of them could last that long.
CHAPTER 38
AFTER
waking from his nap in the plantation house, Master Jackson strolled into the field to check on the current group of slaves. As leader of the guards, he had many important duties at the Plantation, but most of them occurred before guests were even brought to the island. Jackson was in charge of training the guards, a task he shared with Ndjai since several of the men were straight off the boat from Africa. If it hadn’t been for the language barrier, Jackson would’ve preferred training the guards by himself, but as it was he didn’t really have a choice. He was forced to work with Ndjai, even though the African gave him the creeps.
Ironically, Jackson often elicited the same reaction from women, sending off a dangerous vibe that females instinctively disliked. It hadn’t always been like that. The bad vibe was more of a recent thing for Jackson. As a youngster, he’d been very effective with the fairer sex. He was suave, polite, and romantic. But all of that changed in a heartbeat, one misstep that altered Jackson’s life and his attitude toward women—and white people—forever.
He’d been a young associate at one of New Orleans’s top law firms, and as his friends used to say, he had the world by its balls. He was handsome, intelligent, and personable. People often confused him with Wesley Snipes, but he was quick to point out their mistake. No, he used to tell them, my name is Harris Jackson, and before long, people will say