The Participants (6 page)

Rough hands startled her awake. An old woman
knelt beside Elza. “The hunters are back.”

Elza sat up to assess her situation. The
captives huddled together while the returned brutes harassed the
assimilated women and wrestled with one another. A chill crawled
across her flesh as she watched them stir one another towards
violence. Suddenly, she understood the purpose of the captives. The
bonding ritual of the brutes required victims.

She instinctively sought
the refuge of the herd, grasping at the other women, seeking a
sanctuary from the wolves circling their perimeter. The barbarity
of the tribe made sense to her now. Their culture reinforced
violence through the deliberate dehumanization of the weak. The
words of Hess came to her.
I know what
will happen to these women. You want no part in it.

Elza hardened her heart. Pain was fleeting
and there was no injury her body would not heal. She would endure
whatever the brutes did to her. Experiencing creation first-hand
was her purpose.

The rowdiness of the camp increased as the
sun’s angle descended. Meat roasted on spits until hungry men
carved charred, bloody slivers free. Women cooked squash and made
fresh bread from acorns while in their midst captives starved. The
tribe was like a fire escaped from its pit, consuming everything in
its path as it spread death.

A woman assimilated the
previous night screamed in the distance. Throughout the camp, the
brutes released a chorus of laughter at her distress. Elza buried
her face in the back of another captive.
I
just need a moment to compose myself. Just a moment of peace. I can
face this.

Kallig’s voice boomed from nearby. “Tonight
we have our way!”

She flinched when the brutes roared in
anticipation.

“Why do you do this, Kallig? Are you so
afraid of helpless women?”

The roar died out, leaving
an eerie silence in its wake. Kallig’s deep voice responded to the
challenge. “Go away, coward!
You
are afraid of the women! I deal with them like a
man!”

“I fear nothing, Kallig. Nothing. Everyone
knows I am no coward. I let deadly snakes live when they cross my
path. You fear women more than I fear vipers!”

“We fear nothing, coward! We want our
fun!”

Elza held her breath, waiting for Hess to
respond.

After a moment, Kallig spoke again. “Sit on
your rock and watch real men, coward!”

Elza looked up as the men surrounded them.
There was over an hour left in the day for their ordeal, assuming
sunset marked its end. If not, then she could only imagine how long
it would last. All night, maybe. Longer if they discovered she did
not stay dead.

Rough hands seized one of the captives, a
woman covered with pox scars but possessing a shapely figure. She
squealed and tried to slip free. A man with a pronounced limp
slammed his fist into pox-scar’s belly, then pushed her face-first
to the ground. Before the prostrate woman could recover enough to
scream, the limping man drove his spear through the back of her
hand into the ground.

Hands seized Elza’s hair. She found herself
forced onto her back with a man’s knee pressing on her middle so
that she could not take a breath. The man on top of her spit
directly into her face, then slapped her without warning. As Elza
struggled for air, more hands began to rip at her clothing.

Screams and dark laughter came from all
around. Elza swung her arms and legs. In that moment, all that
mattered was escape. The man above her shifted his weight, letting
her fill her lungs with a gasp, then a fist smashed her nose flat.
Her arms and legs were pinned in rapid succession. Elza released
the precious air into a raw scream. Meaty fingers grasped her jaw
and shook her head.

The ordeal was more real than she had
believed possible. It was happening and she had no control over it.
She didn’t even have enough air for a second scream. Every touch of
the brutes inspired fresh revulsion. Her every sense became raw,
highlighting the experience.

And then the weight was gone from her. Elza
rolled into a ball, covering as much of herself as possible and
hiding from them. The volume of the jeers dropped. “Touch her again
and I kill you!” Elza flinched at the hands on her, then recognized
the gentle touch of compassion and latched onto them. Her chest
heaved rapidly and she couldn’t see through her tears.

“You can’t take her,” one of the brutes
said. “You didn’t go to fight.”

“I will kill you, coward, ” Kallig
roared.

The voice that responded
snapped with an authority beyond the bravado of the others. “Don’t
you dare touch me. When I die, I come back angry. If I decide to
kill you,
no one
can stop me. Not your whole tribe together.”

“Fight him, Kallig!”

“He can’t take a second woman! He didn’t
fight!”

“Quiet,” shouted Kallig, silencing the other
men. His tone was milder when he spoke again. “You know the rules.
You only get one woman. That one is ugly and fat. Go see
Dalana.”

Elza squeezed his arm tighter. Hess sighed.
“I will give up Dalana.”

“You trade Dalana for this one? No. You will
take Dalana back and have two women.”

“Yes. I give up Dalana forever and you let
me have this woman.”

“Do you trick me, Hess?”

“I give up Dalana. I promise.”

“Take the ugly one, then! You are a stupid
one, coward!”

Hess squatted and transferred Elza onto his
shoulders in a rapid movement. They were away from the brutes in
twenty steps. Hess paused to tell Dalana she had to go see Kallig,
which sent the beauty into a panic. Elza rode passively on his
shoulder until they reached his rock, where Hess dropped her to the
ground.

She took a moment to compose herself. “I
told you not to interfere.”

“You’re lucky I don’t follow your
orders.”

“You ruined my observations.”

“You’re welcome.”

“This isn’t a game! I have a sacred
duty!”

Hess pointed to the gruesome scene. “I will
let the Creator know all He needs to about what happens here. Those
men don’t have to touch you.”

“I could have endured it without your
interference.”

Hess spun to face her. “Stop it! I don’t
care what you can or can’t endure! The purpose of an Observer is
not to endure torments. You think my participation interferes with
my observations, but what value does the viewpoint of a victim hold
for the Creator?”

“You are a horrible Observer.”

“Stop talking to me, woman.”

“I don’t follow the orders of a coward.”

“In this tribe, a woman obeys her man.”

“You are
not
my man.”

“I just traded Dalana for you. The least you
can do is shut your mouth.”

Elza glared at him. “I don’t like you.”

“I never asked you to like me. I just want
you to stop making noise.”

“You are going to regret interfering.”

Hess stood up. “I hope you’re quiet when you
eat.”

“Where are you going?” She scrambled to his
side before he made five paces.

“Someone was
interfering
with my
observations on the rock, so I’m done watching for the night. I’m
going to eat and sleep and pretend you’re not beside
me.”

Elza ignored the screams as she shadowed him
to the cooking fires. “I really don’t like you.”

“I miss Dalana already.”

Zack struggled as he was forced face-first into
the tub of water. His hands were cuffed behind his back and rope
bound and lifted his feet into the air. There was no way to prevent
the inevitable, but Zack struggled with instinctive passion to
avoid inhaling the water.

The woman named Erik pressed her knee onto
his shoulder blades, forcing his nose beneath the water. With a
herculean effort, Zack managed to arch his back and neck enough to
pant through his nose. Then a playful tap to the back of his head
made him suck down a shot of water.

Involuntarily, Zack's lungs spasmed in a
cough. The cough was followed by a gasping breath of water. His
body spasmed in a wild attempt to find air, accompanied by laughter
from Erik. His exertions triggered the impulse to inhale and Zack
obliged his reflexes despite the fact that he was submerged.

Inhalations become an
autonomic function once a certain point is reached. Uncertain
whether the trigger is determined by lack of oxygen in blood or
carbon dioxide levels.
Zack recorded
everything as an Observer without intending to do anything of the
sort. He didn't know if the impulse to observe was another
autonomic function or if he was trying to escape the experience
through depersonalization. If the purpose was escape, Zack didn't
think it was very effective.

He gasped several breaths of liquid and
relaxed into the cold water. Death slowly enfolded him, allowing
the welcoming warmth of nothingness to engulf him. Zack let it take
him away, wishing his death would last this time.

Zack woke wet and shivering on the bathroom
floor.

“How did you like that one?”

He turned his head to look at Erik. She
appeared pudgy and weak, but possessed a maniacal strength. “I
prefer the chainsaw.”

Erik laughed and clapped her hands. “Me too!
I think we really bonded over that one.” Her false cheer faded,
leaving only the predatory aura behind. “Death doesn't bother you.
I need to focus more on the torture.”

Zack shivered. So far, Erik had stabbed him
to death, beaten him to death with a golf club, sliced him to death
with a chainsaw, and crushed his skull with the blunt end of an
axe. The dying really didn't bother him. Time and again, it was a
welcome release from circumstances he would give anything to
escape.

The other Observers had lectured him, each
in turn, when he arrived. They didn't participate in any of the
festivities. Erik had been disappointed by her colleagues'
restraint, insulting their dedication to the Creator's work.

Erik dragged him from the cramped bathroom
of the farmhouse using the rope binding his feet. They made it to
the front porch before they encountered anyone. The man named
Ingrid waited on the porch swing. “I think you're enjoying this too
much, Erik.”

“Watch yourself, Ingrid, or I'll put you on
the naughty list.”

“No you won't,” Ingrid said. He studied her
over his steepled fingers. “You are loyal to the Creator in your
own perverse way. Hunting, tormenting, and murdering people is work
to you, no matter how much you enjoy it. Doing the same with an
Observer is just playing and you know it.”

“Do you really want to risk being
wrong?”

“I'm not wrong,” Ingrid said. “You despised
the relationship between Hess and Elza. If you focus your
particular fetish on other Observers, then you would be committing
the same sin as them.”

“For what Hess did in the last Iteration, he
deserves the worst I can do to him. Don't interfere with that,
Ingrid. I will make you my enemy.”

“And deprive the Creator of another
Observer?”

Erik pointed at Zack. “This and the other
have been useless as Observers from the first. The Creator won't
miss their input.”

“I think you're wrong,
Erik. I've been man and woman, tall and short, dark and fair, thin
and heavy, weak and strong. Every variation of human possible. We
all have. Every Iteration sees us inserted into random identities.
Except
them
. Hess
always a man. Elza always a woman. The Creator must have a reason
for that.”

“And I have the urge to torture this man for
eternity. Maybe the Creator has a reason for making me like that.”
Erik dragged Zack by the rope, sending him tumbling down the front
steps. “Nice talk, Ingrid, but I got lots of torturing to do. We're
going to play with electric next. Ciao.”

Despite her anger, lingering fear, and the
horrible cries of the women in the distance, Elza dropped into a
sound sleep once wrapped in the warm blankets formerly used by
Dalana. She didn't wake until midmorning, by which time Hess was
gone.

She found him peeling a vine on top of his
rock. “What are you doing?”

“Making rope,” he said.

“Why?”

Hess shrugged. “I thought the Creator would
like to know what different kinds of work feel like. I never
imagined there were women Observers, so I learned how to do women's
work after mastering the men's.”

Elza looked towards where the women had been
held.

“They're dead,” Hess said. “I saved some
breakfast for you.”

The bodies were gone. “I won't cook for
you,” she said. “No matter what you said to this tribe, I am not
your woman.”

“I'm starting to think you don't like me,”
Hess said.

She picked up the bread and meat resting
beside Hess on the rock. “You are a horrible Observer.”

“No I'm not.” Hess began weaving the strands
of vine together.

“You participate!”

“So do you.”

“How do I participate?”

“I saw you talking to the other women
yesterday.”

Elza glared at him. “It's not the same as
what you do.”

“It
is
the same. I just do a little more
of it than you.” Hess met her glare with a curious expression. “Can
you see better or worse with your eyes pointing different
ways?”

“How am I supposed to know?” She turned away
from him to eat.

Hess kept his mouth shut until she finished
her meal. “I am serving the Creator in the way I think best,” he
said. “You think my long presence in this tribe is for selfish
reasons, but I hate what these people are. I stay because this is
the best example of what is wrong with the world. The Creator sent
us here to observe for Him. I think He means to use our input to
make a better world.” His next words were almost too soft to hear.
“I hope He does.”