Red. Erica Spindler

father felt superior to. These were the ones he put down and called names and hurt whenever he had the chance. She’d always thought that a sick, human failing, that need to find and denigrate someone less fortunate than yourself.

      She shuddered and lifted her face to the dark sky.

      She should have taken the long way.

      Becky Lynn stepped up her pace, hiking up her collar higher on her neck. She glanced nervously to her sides. The sparsely populated area had homes that were nothing better than shanties, some of which were former slave cabins, left over from when this land had been part of a prosperous plantation; cotton fields and dilapidated out-buildings. She’d walked this way hundreds of times before; she had never felt threatened, had never been afraid.

      Had Miss Opal taken such care of her that now, without the woman’s guardian gaze, she felt afraid? Silly, she thought, hugging herself. She was being silly.

      From her left, she heard a sound, something soft and thick, like a muffled laugh. From her right, the scurry of something through the grass, some small frightened animal, then the sound of a twig snapping.

      Becky Lynn stopped in the middle of the road, her heart hammering against the wall of her chest. She looked around her, peering into the shadows. “Is anyone there?”

      Silence answered her, louder than any voiced reply. She sucked in a sharp breath and started walking again, stopping at the sound of her own name. It floated on the night air, called in a ghostly voice, the kind of voice used on Halloween by kids trying to scare one another, laced with both cunning and amusement.

      Ricky and Tommy weren’t at the pep rally.

      They were here.

      Her heart in her throat, she started to run.

      From her right came the sound of someone running through the overgrown fields. A moment later, Ricky darted out of the shadows ahead of her, his smile eerily white in the darkness. “Hello, Becky Lynn.”

      She stopped in her tracks, fear rising like bile inside her. It turned on her tongue, threatening to choke her. She swallowed, fighting to find a shred of calm. “Wha-what are you doing here?”

      “Waiting for you, Becky baby. We’ve been waiting weeks for you.” He grinned and her blood went cold. “Just like we promised. Right, Tommy?”

      “Right,” the other boy answered, stepping out from the shadows to her left. “How’ya doing tonight, baby?” With a jerk, Tommy yanked another person forward. Buddy stumbled into view.

      Buddy looked sick. He had something she couldn’t make out clutched in his hand. She searched the shadows for her brother, but they’d obviously left him behind.

      She took a step backward, glancing frantically around her, looking for a way to escape. Why had she done this? Why hadn’t she listened to Miss Opal? She breathed deeply through her nose, working to keep her wits—what was left of them—about her.

      “Lost your guard dog tonight.” Ricky made a clucking sound with his tongue. “What a pity. For you.”

      Tommy laughed and Buddy hung his head.

      “Bet she’s going to enjoy seeing her granddaughter cheer. Right, Tommy?”

      “I’d enjoy it, too, Ricky. She’s one fine little piece.”

      They closed ranks and took a step toward her. Her fingers and toes went numb, the inside of her mouth turned to ash. A light burned from the house just behind her to her left. If she could just make it to that door, maybe someone there would help her.

      She took another step backward, frantically searching for a way to distract them, for something that would give her the moments she needed to make it to that doorway. “Leave me alone,” she whispered. “Please.”

      Ricky laughed and took another step toward her. “Now, why should we go and do that?”

      “I haven’t done anything to you. I just want to be left alone.”

      “Seems I remember you slapping me.” Ricky turned to Tommy. “Do you remember that?”

      “Sure do.” Tommy grinned. “Slapped the shit out of you, right in front of us.”

      “Look,” she said, panic clawing at her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just—”

      “What did you think you were going to accomplish by telling Miss Opal?” Ricky asked, his upper lip curling. “What did you think our parents were going to do? Spank us?”

      Miss Opal had gone to their parents? Becky Lynn struggled for an even breath. She hadn’t kept her promise? “Wh-what do you mean?”

      “Did you really think anyone was going to believe we would touch you?” Ricky sneered. “Our parents laughed. They were offended at the suggestion.”

      “C’mon, guys,” Buddy piped up suddenly, his voice high with nerves. “Let her go. If we’re late for the rally, coach will have our heads.”

      “What do you think he’s gonna do?” Tommy snapped, swinging toward the other boy. “Bench us for the big game? No way. Can’t win without us.”

      “Buddy, you fuckin’ pussy.” Ricky practically spat the words. “We talked about this, we can all get a crack at her and still be suited up in time.”

      They meant to rape her.

      With a sound of fear, Becky Lynn turned and ran. Her fear made it hard to breathe, it clutched at her chest even as she pushed herself to run faster. Her feet pounded on the dirt road, rocks bit into the bottoms of her feet, she angled off the road and toward the lit doorway.

      Safety within reach, she opened her mouth to scream for help; one of them tackled her from behind, knocking her to the ground, knocking the wind out of her. She tasted dirt and her own blood, pinpoints of light flashed behind her eyes.

      In the next moment, a hand was forced over her mouth and she was being dragged, Ricky at her head and Tommy at her feet, from the side of road and behind a dilapidated shed. She struggled, dimly aware of Buddy following behind, dragging his feet.

      If she had any hope, she realized, it was Buddy. If only Ricky would take his hand off her mouth, she could beg Buddy to help her; she could scream. But he didn’t, and his grip partially covered her nose, as well, and she felt light-headed from the lack of oxygen.

      Dear God, she thought, struggling for air, this couldn’t be happening to her! The words played through her head like a continuous tape.

      “You got the paper bag, Buddy?”

      “This has gone far enough.” Buddy cleared his throat nervously. “I mean, joking about it was one thing, but—”

      Ricky tightened his grip on her and glared at the other boy. “You going to be a pussy all your life, Wills? Or are you a faggot? Give me the goddamned bag!”

      The boy hung back, his face white with fear. “What if we get caught? What if—”

      “We’re not going to get caught.”

      “What if she tells? Jesus, Ricky, we could go to jail!”

      “You are such a fucking girl, Buddy.” Ricky laughed, the sound twisted and evil. “Who’s going to believe her? Nobody, that’s who. Our folks didn’t believe Miss Opal, they laughed at the thought that we would touch her. You think I would do this if I didn’t know I could get away with it?”

      They were raping her because they knew they could get away with it.

      And because they thought she was nothing.

      “Now bring me the goddamned bag so I can put it over her head. Then help hold her down.” Ricky’s hand slackened as he faced the other boy.

      They were going to put a paper bag over her head so they wouldn’t have to look at her. Sons of bitches! Bastards! Fury ate her fear, and with Ricky’s attention