Page 67 of What Remains

“Because you are a boy,” Kur said. “Because you have no family.”

“Ihada family.” His eyes stung, and he thought,Don’t. Don’t let them make you cry.“I had a mother and a father. My father is dead. My mother is probably dead. She left me to fend for myself. I don’t know these people. Why are you accusingmeof bringing then here? Or being the reason? I met himonce.” Though seen him twice, but details. “I had no idea that he was here in the valley?—”

“Don’tlie!” Amu’s shout was a thunderclap, and Poya jumped. “I’m not afool!” Amu bellowed. “None of us are fools!”

“Keep shouting at the boy and we’ll get nowhere,” Kur said.

“He’s mine to deal with, Kur,” Amu ground out. “You are older, but that doesn’t make you wiser. Don’t tell me how to deal with my own property.”

“Please.” Poya raised both hands. “I never said you?—”

“But youplot!” Amu’s face, already ruddy from years of cold and sun, purpled. Surging to his feet, he backhanded thepathetic little stack of Poya’s books, swatting them aside with a curse. “Yousteal!”

“Don’t!” The word leapt from Poya’s mouth.Not my books.He itched to gather them up, keep them safe. “Please, just…ask me whatever you want to ask me. Only don’t?—”

“Only don’twhat?” Fist balled, Amu was on him so quickly that Poya’s feet tangled and then he was on the ground, turtled on his back as Amu reared over him. “Youplan.Youlie!” Flecks of spittle speckled Amu’s lips. His face was choked with blood. Even his eyes reddened. “You have passports, you have supplies, you are getting ready to run and thenheshows up and you askwhy?”

“I’m sorry.” He held up both hands to ward him off. “I’m sorry. Yes, you bought me, and yes, I was going to run away, but it’s not what you think. I didn’t call Mr. White. I don’t know why he’s here.” He cringed as Amu drew back a fist. “Please don’t…”

“Now, thengetup!” Bending, Amu grabbed a fistful of Poya’s tunic and jerked him to his feet. Poya was light and no match for this man. “Tellme!” Amu roared. “Are you from the mine?Areyou? Sent to spy on us? So, they will know when we have boys old enough for them to take?”

What?“I d-don’t know.” The words were herky-jerky, jumping out of his mouth while Amu shook him so hard Poya’s head wagged back and forth on the slender stalk of his neck. “P-please!” Clamping both hands around Amu’s wrist, he tried pulling the man’s hand from his tunic. “I don’t know what you mean!”

“Liar!” Amu bellowed?—

There was a blur, something rocketing for his face so fast that Poya had no time to react, and then Amu’s fist slammed into his left jaw. Poya’s head snapped to the right and he lurched back, only vaguely aware of the sound of something tearing. Then, hewas on the ground, face-first, a queer high whine in his ears and blood in his mouth.

Tears blurred his vision.That ripping sound…Amu tore my tunic.Now, panicked as well as in pain, Poya wormed his right hand under his chest. His fingers found the rent in his top, but it wasn’t very wide and revealed nothing. Which was about the only good thing he could say about this mess. Amu was still shouting, though through the ring in his ears, he couldn’t make out the words.

I should have run.Tears of pain and fear squeezed from the corners of his eyes and ran down his cheeks to mingle with blood and snot and spit. From somewhere beyond the yurt, he caught that faint gabble of voices again, but that might only be a hallucination wrung out of his scrambled brains.I should have found a way to take that woman’s gun and take my chances?—

“Andso,” Amu boomed. “I ask youagain.” Squatting on his haunches, Amu knotted a fist in Poya’s hair and wrenched Poya’s head back. “Who?” Amu was so close, the man’s spit sprayed his cheeks. “Who are you working?—”

And then Amu screamed.

The sound was high, sharp, almost girlish. Releasing Poya, Amu tried to stand and scramble back at the same moment. He ended up coming down hard on his bottom and then the man was scuttling back on hands and feet in a queer, crablike movement until he’d reached the other men. They were all standing now, too, or trying to, their eyes wide with shock, their mouths hanging open.

“What are you?” All Amu’s bluster and rage had evaporated. He pointed with a trembling finger. “Whatareyou?”

12

One day,he took a wrong turn.

Late leaving school, he decided to take a shortcut through a bazaar. The day was sweltering, and he worked up a sweat as he dodged pedestrians and scooters and wove his way around street vendors. At a busy crossroads four blocks from his house, a car had caromed into a trio of bicyclists. The street was blocked so he went left instead of right. Everything was still all right until he spotted a clutch of older boys loitering at the corner.

He slowed. He didn’t know these boys, but one look at their thick, flat faces and he knew he was in trouble. He pivoted, but not fast enough.

A shout. “Hey, kid, where you going?”

Run.That’s what his brain screamed. So, he turned and then, for whatever reason, the dark glasses he habitually wore slipped. More than likely this happened because he was sweating so much. He slowed, knowing he couldn’t afford to be without his glasses, but the delay meant they were on him in a heartbeat. down his sweaty nose. Slowing, he fumbled his glasses, trying to ram them back onto the bridge of his nose, but by then, they were on him, and he was done for.

“Oooh!” Snatching the sunglasses from Poya’s grasp, a large, raw-boned boy held them up for the others to see. “Hey, aren’t these nice? Designer glasses, like a movie star.”

“Please.” Keeping his left eye closed, Poya snatched a quick look. To his dismay, the older boy slipped the glasses on, though he had to force the temples wider apart.For his thick skull.Still squinting through his right eye, he ducked his head, trying to keep his face averted so none of these boys got a good look. “May I please have my glasses back?”

“I don’t know.” The boy’s voice seemed to reach him from a great distance, but that might also be because his heart was booming. “How much are they worth to you?”

“Worth?”

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