NightWriters
By Susan Tuttle
The rats only came out at night. Both two legged and four, they swarmed the streets through the hours of darkness, only to vanish when the sun once again rose in the vermillion sky. Delmira knew she’d be taking her life in her hands if she left the barn at night, but what choice did she really have?
Bentin had cornered her earlier that day, given her the ultimatum she’d been dreading ever since she turned fifteen. He’d given her two years, two years of hope that he hadn’t noticed her the way he’d noticed her older sister, two years of space before he decided to lock down her fate.
What he didn’t know, could not have known, was that he hadn’t threatened her at all. He’d simply given her two years to plan her escape.
Delmira tiptoed to the door and slipped on the dark cloak that would shield her from the rats. She pulled the hood close over her head, glanced back at the others, fast asleep in their safe, rat-proof cocoons, then squared her shoulders and reached for the door latch. She knew she’d have to ease it down, millimeter by millimeter, so it wouldn’t squeak and wake anyone. If Bentin discovered her before she got away, he’d make her life even more of a living hell than he’d planned on.
She held her breath until the latch opened and the door cracked ajar. Freedom—of a sort—lay within reach. Just as she started to push the door open enough to worm though, a hand clamped on her arm. She barely managed to hold in the scream that burbled up from her toes.
“I’m coming with you.”
The whispered words were more breath than voice, but Delvira heard them. Her eyes widened in shock and the hood slipped from her head as she turned to the speaker.
“Ioria.” She stared at her little sister, just turned thirteen, at her huge peridot eyes, at her not-yet-a-woman’s body that shivered with cold and fright. “I thought you were asleep,” she said, her own whisper as breathy as Ioria’s. “Go back to bed.”
“No. You can’t leave without me.”
Delmira watched, feeling numb, as Ioria donned her own dark cloak. Where had she gotten it? It had taken Delmira six months to cadge one in secret, and she knew what it had cost her, how long her body had ached. What had Ioria given to acquire hers?
She didn’t want Ioria to walk the dangerous streets. Didn’t want her to be torn apart if the rats discovered them. And she equally didn’t want Bentin to get his hands on Ioria, either, when her time came. But her sister was still young. Delmira knew she had time; time to figure out a way to come back for her; time to devise a fool-proof plan before her sister’s fate would be sealed.
Delmira didn’t want to take Ioria out into the dark night. But she also knew they couldn’t stand in the half-open doorway and debate the issue with the dark of night slithering into the barn’s interior. And where Bentin or his guards might overhear them. And stop them.
She had no choice. So she merely nodded and pulled the hood over her head. Then she clasped Ioria’s hand and led her out into the night. Toward the rats.
Susan Tuttle is a professional freelance editor, writing instructor, and the award-winning author of six books on writing and six suspense novels. Sassy, opinionated P.I. Skylark is the main character in an upcoming paranormal mystery series set in Los Osos that includes mind reading, clairvoyance, ghosts and time travel. Susan is a board member of SLO NightWriters, for writers at all levels in all genres; find them online at slonightwriters.org.
