Chapter 2

CHAPTERTWO

Sunset Meadowblossom smiled up at the roof of the cave where she was lying. The air outside was chilly, but in here, with her small fire going, wool socks on her feet, legs covered in buttery-soft leggings, and the oversized sweatshirt she rarely took off, she was toasty warm.

The first time she’d taken off the brown dress she’d worn for as long as she could remember, she’d been incredibly nervous. But it had felt so freeing! Women in The Community were only allowed to wear dresses. Never pants. Shirts. Only the brown, shapeless, somewhat scratchy wool shifts Arrow had deemed appropriate.

Of course, the leader of The Community, and the other men, were allowed to wear whatever they wanted. Including warm jackets in the winter and pants that kept their legs from freezing. They all had warm boots and gloves too. Once, she’d heard one of the other wives asking why she couldn’t wear pants. The woman was told there was no need, since her place was inside, cooking and taking care of the men.

That would’ve been an understandable argument if Sunset wasn’t required to go into the forest to hunt. She had been one of the best hunters The Community had, and if it wasn’t for her, there would’ve been a lot more nights with growling bellies. But even though she’d been tasked with hunting for meat, she still wasn’t allowed to wear pants.

It always seemed unfair to her, though as Arrow had frequently chided, she was simply ungrateful and needed to learn her place. But that was the thing—Sunset had no idea what her place was. She’d been Arrow’s wife, along with four other women, and even though he was the leader of their group, she was still looked down upon.

The only person who’d sought out her attention was the one man whose attention she didn’t want. Arrow’s son, Cypress, never hid the fact that he wanted her. But because she was the leader’s wife, she was off-limits. She’d gone through her days doing her best to stay under the radar, doing what was required of her and not making any ripples in the difficult existence that was her life.

She still remembered the uncomfortable and painful consequences of speaking out of turn. Of saying whatever she was thinking. Of trying to change the circumstances of her life. She’d been shown time and time again that speaking out, trying to buck against the rules of The Community, would only end in time in the punishment tent, restrained and left alone for days, sometimes weeks on end. Each time Arrow finally came to get her, she was docile once again. Desperate to return to her normal duties for The Community.

Her acquiescence usually lasted for several months before the certainty that this wasn’t how life was supposed to be crept back in. And she’d get in trouble all over again. That pattern had continued from her earliest memories, right up until she’d made her escape.

When the time came, Arrow had also insisted she do her wifely duties, just as he demanded of his other wives, but Sunset had never enjoyed those moments. Dreaded when he requested her presence in his tent. In the last few years before he’d passed, it had been a relief when his penis no longer got hard. Instead, he’d fondled her under her dress, which hurt because he was too rough when he touched her. Sunset had learned to pretend it felt good, so he’d stop within a few minutes of touching her.

When he’d died, she’d lost the protection being his wife had afforded. She and his other wives had been given to other men in The Community, and Cypress had wasted no time claiming her as his own.

Being his sixth wife had been hell. He was cruel, violent, didn’t care if he hurt her when he took her. In fact, he delighted in her pained cries and relished the bruises he left on her body.

She’d taken to acting out more and more, just so she’d be disciplined with solitary confinement in the punishment tent. At least there, Cypress couldn’t touch her. Couldn’t hurt her. But inevitably she’d be released to go back to her duties, usually because The Community needed more fresh meat. And she’d end up right back in Cypress’s tent, enduring his awful touch.

When the men had decided to move The Community to Florida, where it wasn’t as cold, dread had overwhelmed Sunset. She couldn’t leave. The feeling wasn’t one she could explain, beyond knowing that this was her home, and being taken away wasn’t something she could endure. She kept her misgivings to herself…not that any of the men would’ve listened to her anyway.

In the middle of the night, the evening before they were set to leave, Sunset crept into the forest to hide nearby.

Cypress had been furious. He’d yelled for hours, calling her name as he stomped through the woods around the encampment. Ordered her to come back. Threatened her. But still she hid.

She’d waited until she saw with her own eyes all the wives packed into the back of a large truck with no windows and no seats, the door shut and locked behind them. She continued to watch as the men all climbed into comfortable vans and drove off, yet she still didn’t come out. She didn’t trust that it wasn’t a trap. That Cypress wouldn’t jump out from behind a tent and grab her, forcing her to go with them far, far away.

She’d lived on her own in the woods for at least a week before she dared go back to the abandoned camp. Cypress had left all the tents, promising they would have new, better homes where they were going. No one questioned him, although Sunset couldn’t help but wonder how moving to a new place would work without bringing their homes. She still wasn’t convinced Cypress wouldn’t be there to grab her when she did go back, and when she’d crept into the camp, she ended up watching the tents for two days before she felt brave enough to venture to the only home she remembered.

Most of The Community’s belongings had been packed, but they’d also left quite a few useful items behind. Sunset had found a knife and a few stray pots. The straw pallets the women slept on were still there, although she wasn’t surprised the beds the men used were gone. She’d found some rice that hadn’t been ruined by mice, and even a discarded dress in one of the tents.

Looking back, she realized that all of the men’s belongings had been packed up and taken with the group. It was only some of the women’s things left behind. Because they weren’t as important.

The first few months on her own had been both scary and exhilarating. There was no one telling her what to do. She got to eat all the good parts of the animals she trapped, didn’t have to save it for the men. She could sleep later if she wanted, didn’t have to get up with the sun to start cleaning and making breakfast. Drank as much water as she wanted, ate as much food as she liked. She’d even gone back to The Community one morning and taken one of the smaller tents, carrying it back to the woods and fashioning the most comfortable bed she’d ever slept on.

Best of all, she didn’t have to endure Cypress’s touch.

Over the years, many females in The Community had told her how lucky she was to be one of the leader’s wives. And when Cypress claimed her, they’d once again told her she should be grateful. But Sunset hadn’t been grateful. Not at all.

Now she was free of him. Of her old life. She was making a new life in the woods by herself.

Then, strangely, as the months passed, she’d slowly begun to feel like she had when she was restrained in the punishment tent.

Terribly alone. Isolated.

She longed to see people. Talk to them. Not that she was allowed to talk to the other women in The Community very often; the men frowned on them getting too close. Still, being around others had been a comfort of sorts. And before Arrow died, there were rare times when he was less cruel to her, if not fully nice.

Without cooking and cleaning to do all the time, Sunset also found herself growing bored. There wasn’t much to do in the little cave she’d made her home. She’d started venturing out more and more, farther and farther, discreetly following people she came upon in the forest. At first it had been utterly terrifying. The first time she’d heard people talking, she’d fled, running all the way back to her cave, and didn’t come out for days.

But eventually her curiosity got the better of her and she ventured out again.

She was now an expert at staying hidden. On spying on people as they hiked the trails of her forest. She’d never felt the need to talk to anyone or interact with them in any way…until the day she’d seen a man holding a woman against him, a knife to her throat.

She’d listened quietly, heard him talk about touching her the way Cypress did to Sunset, when he made her go into his tent.

Something had come over her in that moment. An anger so hot that she’d acted without thinking, running into the clearing and throwing dirt in the man’s face.

It had felt good. She’d helped save that woman.

Sunset had been all ready to do something to get her away from the other man, the biggest one, but as she followed them, she realized the man wasn’t hurting her.

He was protecting her.

It was confusing. That wasn’t how men were supposed to act.

She didn’t understand why he wasn’t blaming the woman for what had happened. Or demanding she make a fire and find them food when they were forced to spend the night in the forest. Instead, he took her into his arms and held her close all night. Keeping her warm. Putting himself between her and the opening of the rock under which they’d slept.

For the first time in her life, Sunset had witnessed a man treating a woman…gently.

For years, when memories of her “before life” had threatened to come to the forefront of her mind, Sunset had pushed them back ruthlessly. She’d been told by Arrow and other men in The Community that if she ever talked about her before life to anyone, she would be severely punished. When she was a child, she had been punished. So badly that she’d gone to great lengths to make sure such retributions never happened again…including not thinking about her before life ever again.

But after seeing the man with that woman, vague memories began to slowly trickle back. Flashes that made little sense. Scenes in her head of being warm and happy. Of a tree with twinkling lights. Of a man and woman yelling at each other, but stopping when she came into the room. Of sitting with other children in rows, listening to a woman who was talking to them at the front of the room and writing on a green wall.

The memories were always accompanied by a pounding headache, and even now, that was still the case.

As Sunset lay on her bed, staring at the roof of her cave, she had so many questions. But no way to get answers.

Except maybe by talking to one of the people she saw in the forest.

She knew one of them in particular, Talon—the same man who’d left the clothes and other items—was looking for her. He’d left her a note, telling Sunset his name and explaining that he was giving her gifts because he was worried about her.

She was scared of what would happen if he found her cave…but she was also wildly curious. He’d given her such lovely gifts. She didn’t know what he’d want in return…which was where her nervousness and fright came in. He’d probably want to touch her like Cypress had. It was his right as a man. But she didn’t want that.

Maybe she could just give him back the clothes, and then he wouldn’t demand anything from her.

But she didn’t want to give the clothes back. She loved wearing pants. They made her feel safer. Men couldn’t just reach under her dress and touch her like they did back in The Community. And her toes didn’t tingle with cold at night with the socks on her feet. It was no wonder the men liked wearing clothes so much. She’d never felt as safe or as warm as she did right this minute.

Lifting her head, Sunset brought the material of the sweatshirt to her nose and inhaled. The clean, fresh scent the material had when she’d first received it was almost gone now. But she still remembered vividly how good the sweatshirt smelled the first time she’d pulled it over her head. It reminded her of the spring, when the women were responsible for airing out the linens on the men’s beds. They used soap Cypress and Arrow brought back from town to clean them in the stream, then hung them up. It was the one duty Sunset always did without feeling the least bit of resentment. She loved that clean smell.

She didn’t even mind when Cypress forced her to do her duty after cleaning day. She willingly got on her hands and knees as he took her from behind, because she could bury her nose in the clean material under her and pretend she was anywhere but in his tent.

Turning her head, Sunset looked at the other things the man, Talon, had given her. The chocolate was long gone, but she’d kept the wrapper. She could still smell remnants of the sweet treat on it, which was almost as good as when she’d eaten it. She also had the trash from the funny-tasting food. Partly because she had nowhere to get rid of it without risking one of the random hikers in her woods realizing someone had been in the area, and partly because he had given it to her.

There was a pink plastic device that had sliced her finger when she’d touched it. There was a blade in the head of the thing, but Sunset hadn’t been able to figure out how to remove it without breaking the plastic. And she didn’t want to break anything Talon had given her.

He’d also given her a wool hat, which she wore when she left her cave, and a blanket, shiny and silver on one side, that had been folded up into a tiny square. When she’d unfolded it, it made far too much noise for her peace of mind. She couldn’t get it folded right again, so it sat off to the side of the cave for now.

He’d also given her some rope, which had come in handy for making traps, and some strips of plastic that she eventually figured out how to use. One end went into the other and, when pulled tight, couldn’t be undone again. They made tying sticks together for her traps much easier.

The most recent bag had come with another note. It had been so long since Sunset had been able to read anything—women in The Community weren’t allowed to read or write—it was a struggle to figure out what Talon had written, but she’d figured out the general meaning of his words.

I brought you more things I thought you could use. If you need something specific, please don’t be afraid to let me know. I just want to help you. Can you tell me your name? You can trust me. I swear I won’t hurt you. Will you stay and say hello to me next time? I’d love to talk to you.

~Talon

Trust. Sunset didn’t think she had it in her to trust. She didn’t know why, precisely, only that there was something bad lurking in her mind. Something to do with her before life. And it wasn’t as if Cypress or Arrow had given her any reason to trust men. But there was something about Talon that made Sunset yearn to be someone else. Someone who could walk up to him and introduce herself. Someone he could learn to like. Someone he wouldn’t hit. Or hurt.

Someone who might thank her for the food she made, instead of grunting at her and complaining that it was overdone, or underdone, or too cold.

Sighing deeply, Sunset sat up. It was useless to wish for those things because they’d never happen. She was on her own, and that was how she wanted it. She’d left The Community for a reason, and she’d never felt as free as she did right now. So what if there was dirt under her nails, if she smelled funky, and if she was lonely? She’d take her new life over her life as one of Cypress’s wives any day.

With that thought in mind, Sunset crawled out into the chilly air to do her business. Then she needed to get some water from the stream half a mile away, check her traps, and eat something. Later, maybe she’d venture out and see if she could amuse herself by finding some hikers to spy on.

She wasn’t going to go look to see if Talon had left another bag of presents. No, she needed to be smart, and she’d already made him far too curious about her. The last thing she wanted was for the man to track her down. To find her little cave. Nothing good could come out of that.