Freedom's Child

Freedom's Child

The girl took an involuntary step backwards as the sickly sweet smoke enveloped her. She stood woodenly in the door frame debating whether or not to enter. The bite of the bitter winter's air pressed up against her shoulder blades and she shivered. Rough hands pushed her aside as others rolled into the room laughing and talking. Steadying herself against the outside of the hut, the girl turned to follow them only to find the door slam shut in her face. She turned around and started to walk away, pulling her parka tighter around her sparse frame.

The young girl balled her hands up inside her mittens and put them in her pockets, trying to keep warm. Tears trickled out of her eyes and down her cheeks, freezing quickly and sparkling in the moonlight. The sweet smell of the marijuana still clung to her hair and clothes as did the memory of those in the room. Her friends had been there, their faces blurred and red with the alcohol and drugs. They had been more concerned with not letting out any of the smoke than with making sure she was still with them.

She was only twelve years old.

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id walk the water to get back to you
and where I was complete
we found you scattered by the highway side too
soon to be released
gathered the pieces up and clean the places
where you were undone
and washed the wreckage out unfinished all the
thoughts that wed begun
I came to burn the sky and tear way
the beauty that it sows
if I could rape the day and find the things I thought
id always known
leave it alone again tonight
I laid your arms out long untwisted there
and shaped what I could find
unmade the most of it then left the rest
the parts unrecognized
my reconstruction was the only way
for one last look at you
I lost the sense of it the absolution
that we never knew
leave it alone again tonight
leave it along again tonight
and it takes me back from this place here
it takes me back from this place here
I came to burn the sky and tear away
the beauty that it sows
I came to rape the day and find the things
I thought id always known
leave it alone again tonight
and it takes me back from this place here
from this place here it takes me over
and it might be lost in this place here
from this place here it takes me on
tonight leave it alone

Leave It Alone - Moist

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When Moe was five the reservation's solitary school had been blessed with a good teacher. Although one of Scarab's minions, the woman's views changed over her stay at the Natives' encampment and she grew to be sympathetic with their cause. Too sympathetic. Before she was shot as a traitor and as a demonstration over the dangers of succumbing to human weakness, the woman tried to smuggle out five of the Indian children and relocate them with other families so that they could take the Test and make something of their lives. She knew they had the potential to become doctors and lawyers and thought that once educated they could come back and help their people throw off the oppression of Scarab's soldiers. It was a good idea but she was betrayed. No one knew by whom.

The elders, for the most part, had approved of her plan, seeking to give these children opportunities beyond those of the reservation. They recognized the dangers of the apathy that had settled upon their young people with no opportunities existing for them in a world ruled by the Government. They would talk among themselves about the days before Scarab's rule; when they had struggled for and won self government and could hold their heads up high. Now they lived in a glorified prison camp; no one was permitted to enter or leave the reservation without Scarab's permission. Scarab wanted to beat these people into submission; early on in his military coup he saw the fierce pride of these Native Americans and their refusal to submit. So he locked them up on their reservation, killing all those who tried to leave, and gradually destroyed their will to live by striking at their children. He encouraged the drinking and drug abuse that the elders had finally managed to control, gave the children nothing to do beyond their hand to mouth existence and laughed as the suicide rate skyrocketed. To some extent the elders recognized his plan and tried their best to prevent it. Those young people who remembered the days before Scarab's rule, now in their late 20s, had formed militia groups and with the elders' blessings tried to take back their reservation. It failed miserably, decimating the reservation of its young people. Those children left grew up with no knowledge of being free and fell into the brutal cycle of lethargy that arises when existence seems so dark.

No one knew what had happened to the five children the school teacher had taken with her. They were not returned to the reservation after her public execution and attempts by their parents to locate them had been futile.

Moe had been lucky enough not to have been chosen but she was never to find out how close she had come to being one of the five. She and her friend were the woman's first choices - she recognized their potential for being future leaders of their people and more importantly knew that they would do well at the Test, designed by Scarab to channel children into certain schooling levels based upon their abilities at age nine, and receive the training reserved for future engineers and doctors. But the woman also recognized the danger of her plan, and based upon Moe and Greg's youth decided to smuggle them out once the first lot were safely relocated. She was never to succeed.

The school's new teacher was a sadist, carefully chosen by Scarab to stamp out any last vestiges of resistance amongst the children. He was to succeed.

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Moe blew on her hands to warm them. It was January and bitterly cold. She slipped her mittens back on and continued to trudge through the snow. There was a splat as a snowball caught the back of her neck, tipping her toque forward on her head to cover her eyes. She wheeled around, pushing the errant hat back with one hand while frantically brushing away the snow before it managed to get down her coat.

- You slime!! - she gasped as she scooped up snow and hurled it at the offending party.

The boy just grinned and danced out of the way of the snowy projectiles. Moe spun around trying to get a fix on him but he was gone. She stopped her effects and stood still, panting a little at the unexpected exertion.

- Greg? Come on Greg... you win. - There was a crafty tilt to her eyes which belayed her words and a soggy snowball concealed in her mitten. She concentrated but could hear only her own breath. Damn that boy, he was just too good at hiding.

Two cold arms wormed around her neck and Moe yelped in surprise.

- You IDI... - she didn't managed to get the rest of the insult out. With a wicked grin Greg spun Moe around and kissed her. Still annoyed, Moe refused to yield to him until, with an internal giggle she softened in his arms. Enjoying the kiss, Greg didn't notice the snowball until it clobbered him in the ear. With a splutter he broke away from Moe.

- You didn't have to do that! - he wailed as he glared at her.

Moe punched him affectionately in the arm.

- Come on, fair's fair. I got you good. - She started to laugh as he turned a pair of puppy dog eyes on her - Oh don't be such a baby. Come on, I'll get you a hot chocolate. -

Moe wheedled her way under Greg's arm and put her own around his waist. He suddenly stopped his pouting and planted a kiss on her forehead before pulling her toque over her eyes. With a fond smile Moe pulled it back up and they continued into town arm in arm.

They were a good looking pair. Both healthy and tall they would be right at home in one of Scarab's recruitment ads. But Scarab would welcome neither with open arms. At 17 and 19, Moe and Greg had no illusions about their place in the world. That isn't to say they didn't dream of something better, they just knew how hard it would be to get it.

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Outside of the general store, which also served as the local restaurant, a short, warmly bundled up girl was standing. She was stamping her boots up and down rather impatiently in the cold.

Moe and Greg walked up to her and a pair of startling blue eyes peered up at them. Bundled in a red scarf and hat against the wintery night, not much else could be seen of her face. The eyes narrowed a bit more and then, with a beautiful laugh, one mittened encased hand pulled down the scarf.

- Moe, Greg, I thought you'd _never_ come! Come on I'm getting cold! - The girl ushered Greg through the front door of the building while giving Moe a sideways glance before laughing again.

The three clattered into the store and starting pulling off their bulky outer clothing. Mittens, scarves and toques were strewn about a table and heavy parkas heaped on a chair. Greg valiantly offered to go and purchase the required hot beverages and, with eyes sparkling mischievously, the girl pulled Moe into the chair beside her.

- So? - she asked in a conspiratorial whisper - What took ya so long?... were you... - the question trailed off as she arched one of her delicate eyebrows.

Moe started to cough violently, hoping no one had overheard.

- Leo!!- she gasped. - I... we... - she searched for something to say, but unfortunately Leonora knew her too well.

Leo snickered. Without her parka on she turned out to be quite tiny, with a slender frame that looked like it could be snapped in half by stiff wind and the high cheekbones of her ancestors. Her white ancestry was also apparent in her blue eyes which were twinkling in amusement of her friend's embarrassment. She loved Moe and Greg, and would kill anyone for hurting them, but she also felt it was fair game for her to tease them.

- Oh Moe, don't be such a prude!!! It's awful cold outside and...- she stopped abruptly as Greg rejoined.

- What? - he asked, a little puzzled at the looks the two girls were giving him.

- Ummm... nothing - Moe said, the corners of her mouth quirking up in a smile.

- Just talking about...ummm... unicorns - Leo said innocently and then dissolved in a heap of giggles as Greg raised his eyebrows in non-comprehension.

Moe started to laugh too, causing the other two occupants of the store to turn and frown at the commotion. However, when they saw who it was, the women, both in their late 60s, relaxed a little. It was nice to see the young people genuinely enjoying themselves; it didn't happen often enough these days.

Greg, thoroughly confused by this point, just took his seat and sighed. He was used to Leo and Moe by now. God knows how long the three of them had been friends.

Doris, the owner of the shop, waddled over and placed the tray of drinks down on the table sharply. She was an unfortunate woman, no amount of dieting had managed to keep her girlish figure or the roving eye of her husband, and the lack of both tended to make her a little shrewish at times.

Apparently this was one of those times.

She passed the drinks to the three friends with a disapproving air and waddled back to her till. Moe and Leo tried to compose themselves but were soon laughing again. They did try to keep it contained but Doris noticed and turned back.

- We don't want none of that nonsense in here. - She said sharply, placing a hand upon her hip and waggling a finger at the three. - If you can't behave you can just leave. Don't disturb the real customers! -

- Oh, Doris, they're not doing any harm. - one of the women spoke up from the corner. She smiled fondly at the young people. - So Greg, how is you mother doing? -

- Fine Auntie Eda. - Greg's smile was genuine. Although most of her direct family had been killed during the Rebellion, Auntie Eda had been adopted by many of the young children of the reserve.

- And Doris, how is your Margo? A new baby on the way I hear.-

Doris' mouth closed into a thin line and she stomped back to her till.

- Oh dear. - Auntie Eda's dismay was genuine - Oh, I hope I didn't say anything wrong. Did I? - She turned to her companion for reassurance with a bewildered look.

Leo motioned towards Auntie Eda - You mean... she doesn't know? -

Greg should his head solemnly before smiling.

- Nope. -

Her inability to see anything but the best in people was part of what endeared Auntie Eda to her community. It did, however, cause some amusing moments at times. Doris' daughter Margo, it was rumoured had got herself into trouble this time with one of Scarab's men. Everyone, well everyone but Auntie Eda, knew that she was one of the girls who frequented the soldiers' camp looking for free booze and drugs and, seeing as this time there was no local boy willing to claim responsibility for Margo's pregnancy, it wasn't hard for the natural conclusion to be drawn. Margo wasn't such a bad sort really. Her two other children were well cared for when she was sober and Doris made sure they were the rest of the time. One got by the best one could these days.

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Margo had been one of the alcohol blurred faces in the room that night when Moe had trudged back into the snow along five years ago.

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- Where are you going kiddo?- The voice startled Moe. She stopped, turning to see who it was, her eyes widening like a doe caught in the headlights of a pickup.

The voice's owner approached her slowly, hands spread slightly apart in a calming gesture.

-Hey, no need to spaz, it's just me.-

Moe heaved a sigh of relief and visibly relaxed. It was just Greg.

-You idiot!- she pounded him on the arm, -You scared me!- Moe quickly wiped away any incriminating tears from her face but not before Greg had seen them.

He opened his mouth to ask her but decided against it. The kid looked miserable. Instead he threw a companionable arm around her shoulder and steered her back towards the village.

Moe liked Greg. He was a really nice guy, only a few years older than her. Not many of the other kids liked him, just her and Leo. But then the other kids didn't really like her either. They said the three of them were different. Moe could feel the tears coming again and she blinked them away. Greg was nice but she didn't want him to see her crying.

It was hard growing up on the reservation when you weren't completely Indian. Moe's features weren't quite 'right' and this branded her a halfling just as much as Leo's blue eyes did her. No one cared that it had been a grandmother who had passed on this legacy, Leo was different where it counted. And Greg... everyone knew Greg's father was a white soldier. Even worse, there was rumours that his mother had actually cared about the man. So each different in their own way, the three had been thrown together from an early age, the only thing they had in common was their mixed ancestry. Being older Greg had kept himself somewhat aloof from the other two, an observer on the outskirts. Something in him wanted the companionability of the other two yet he kept his own council for the most part.

- You'd go to the party? - Greg finally asked. He didn't need to hear the answer, what else could she have been doing out back.

Moe nodded dumbly, biting back the tears which threatened again.

Greg sighed. He really didn't think the kid was that stupid. He had thought she was better than the others.

- Does Leo know you were there? -

Moe shook her head, still not trusting her voice. Leo had been vehement about her refusal to take part in the outing but Moe was tired of being different. She just wanted to fit in and when Margo had mentioned the party to her it had seemed like her chance had finally come. She waited for the I told you so. God...why did she have to be different. But Greg didn't say anything. He could guess what was going through her head and choked back the chastisement. Knowing Leo, Moe would never hear the end of this anyways. Christ, what was it to him anyways. She was just some kid, nice and all but just a kid. He looked at her in the moonlight. The proud face, the strong profile - at times she seemed far too old and at others...she and Leo seemed much younger than their twelve years. Little kids playing at being adults, they were all doing that these days.

- Come on, cheer up, it's not that bad. I'll buy you a hot chocolate. -

Moe turned to Greg, her face splitting into a wide grin of appreciation. The smile changed things, gave Greg the opening he needed. After that he became an easy third to their comradeship, slipping into their close friendship as an baby otter does the water. And in their closeness their difference from the others grew. There was a strength they gave to each other, a courage to dare to dream of a world outside their walls.

Moe soon forgot that she had ever felt lonely or sad because she didn't fit in. Her differences began to make her proud and she held her head up high. It wasn't surprising that the other children now referred to her and her two friends as snobs who thought they were better than anyone else, but now Moe could deal with it, realise the pettiness and jealousy underneath and rise above it. There was no need for her to fit in with these people, fit in with Scarab's world she belonged to Greg and Leo and the old ways. They were her family now.

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Greg wanted to become a doctor. He admitted this shyly to Moe one day on the banks of the river. She was fifteen now and Greg was seventeen. He was balancing on a fallen log, teetering over the flowing water when, out of the blue, he announced it. She looked at him, a hand shading her face from the sun.

- Did you hear me Moe?- he asked more excitedly. - I want to become a Doctor! - Greg flung his hands out theatrically and yelled the last into the sky. The words echoed off the distant cliff face.

- Greg, you're going to fall in if you're not careful! -

Greg smiled at her wickedly and carefully pirouetted.

Moe rolled her eyes. Boys. Where was Leo when you needed her.

- So Moe, what d'you want to do when you grow up? - Greg swivelled back to face her.

Moe thought about it. There were lots of things she wanted to do, things she'd heard about from the elders and school. But which one would she want to do for the rest of her life? She remembered when she was seven. The teacher had told them all about the different careers that were out there - doctors, engineers, teachers, lawyers - each child had chosen their desired profession and researched it for two weeks. Moe had been so excited, telling her aunties and uncles about how she was going to be a lawyer when she grew up and fight for the rights of her people. She hadn't noticed the looks they had given each other, heard the sadness in their voice. She had seen the look in the teacher's eyes when, after the assignments had been handed in and the presentations given, he had laughed at them for being so foolish, for thinking that they, the filthy natives, had a chance of doing something with their lives. Scarab's test had been explained to them then and never again would any of those children forget their place in Scarab's world. Moe no longer wanted to be a lawyer, she knew that much. No, she wanted to do something more.

- I don't know Greg. -

- You have to know. -

- Know what? - Leo came waltzing out of the undergrowth, bow in one hand, dead rabbit in the other.

Moe just smiled at her, her musings forgotten in the summer light, and deftly caught the flung animal. Pulling out her boot knife she started to skin it.

- Make yourself useful Dr. Greg - she called out to the boy who was poised on the log like some elemental godling - Go and get us some firewood. -

Greg glared at her, a little hurt that she seemed to take his dreams so lightly, teasing him about it in front of Leo. If anyone would understand he had thought it would be Moe, that's why he had told her. He had never told anyone else. He opened his mouth to make a cutting remark back but the moment was gone as he lost his balance and splashed into the water. Sputtering Greg surfaced, his pride sorely wounded. Safe and dry on the shore, Moe and Leo hugged themselves as they collapsed into giggles at the look upon his face.

Perhaps it was soon after that day on the river when Moe and Greg moved beyond friendship to something more. Neither one could say when that line had been crossed, only knew that it had. Leo accepted this new development resignedly and contented herself with tormenting the two. She wasn't jealous, had no need to be. In her own way Leo was an old soul, more spiritual than she would ever believe. She had simply known from the beginning that Moe and Greg would end up together, that there was something for them to do in this life as there had been in other lives.

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Greg and Moe said their farewells to Leo outside of the general store and watched her briefly as she trudged off to the small house she shared with her father.

- It's a beautiful night... - Moe finally said, breaking the companiable silence.

- Mmmm... - Greg toyed with a lock of her hair which had escaped her hat - Shame to go home so soon. -

Moe slipped her mittened hand into Greg's - We could go for a walk. -

Greg shrugged his agreement. He didn't really care.

The two teenagers soon left the town behind them, the moonlight lighting their way. By common, unspoken, consent the two headed out towards Black Bob's place. The elder was an old man now, the history of his name taken to the grave by his contemporaries, but he was still a powerful figure in the community. Recently Moe, Greg and Leo had found themselves spending more and more time in the old man's company. They were too old for the school now, had been since they were fourteen, but Black Bob had taken them under his wing and was educating them in the old ways. It was something many of the elders did now... well, when they found young people who were interested in learning more. All too often the children would leave the school early, start the drinking young and the babies would follow soon after. But the three liked the old man's stories, like what he taught them. He was teaching Greg of the old herbal healings, reigniting the boy's desire to study medicine properly.

Black Bob sat in front of a fire outside his shack as the two young people walked up to him. His eyes were almost closed, his face composed as if asleep yet he watched them alertly from under his hooded eyes. The promise in them, it was so tangible at times he thought he could reach out and touch it. Yet it needed to be tempered by wisdom, experience which would only come through time. Time which there was no longer enough of. He knew it was only a matter of months before they would go. There was so much out there for them to see, so much more than the reservation. But they would laugh when he tried to tell them this, to press upon them the necessity for listening and learning, tell him that they weren't going anywhere, what more could they want. But he also knew this was the ways things must be, ways things had always been. The old man opened his mouth, not even waiting for Moe and Greg to settle themselves on the furs at his feet, and began to tell a story.

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- Leo, wait!- Moe called out at the retreating back of her friend. She frowned it was too late, she couldn't hear her. Scuffing her moccasins in the dust Moe wandered back down the road. She felt uneasy, restless. The feeling had been growing for days now… she felt as though she was poised at the edge of a thunderstorm something big was going to happen soon but she didn't know what. Shaking off the feeling she broke into a run, angling off the road into the underbrush. She would go and see Black Bob and talk to him.

It was the beginning of summer the grass at the peak of its lushness, the hot sun beating down on their backs, the river singing as it wound its way through the reservation, out to the edge of fence, past into the land of Scarab. They found her there on the banks of the river, her broken body splayed on the banks, limbs akimbo like a rag doll. They found her there and brought her back with them to her father's house where they lay her down on her bed and left quietly. Her father brushed the hair from the vacant blue eyes and hugged her close, willing her spirit back into the violated body. The elders came then with their sweet grass and prayers calling her back from the land of the dead. Finally someone remembered Moe, remembered to stop her as she rushed in the room, to hold her tight as she screamed and yelled, to soothe the tears. They say you never come back completely once you've left, that part of you stays forever on that wild plain where the grass swells to meet the wind and all is laughter.

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Moe sat unmoving on the edge of the river's bank, listlessly watching the sun set above the distant cliffs. Her hands clenched and unclenched involuntarily at her side as she rocked slightly back and forth. Leo would survive the damage was great but…oh god, why hadn't she gone after her that day?

- You can't torment yourself anymore Moe.- the voice was a whisper and she ignored it, wrapping her arms even more tightly around herself, pulling herself deeper into herself.

- What do I do? - Greg finally asked Black Bob.

The wizened man nodded sadly, beckoning Greg away from Moe. - You must bring her out of this,- he sad softly, willing the younger man to be strong. - I know it is hard for both of you but you must give her strength. You will take her away from this…-

- But, but we can't leave Leo, not now…how can we? -

The elder searched the skies for a way to answer the tortured question. - You will leave my child,- he finally said, - You will take her from here and together forge a new life. You will bring hope back to our people. -

Gregg nodded dumbly and, swallowing his tears, stumbled back to the prone figure on the bank. He spoke a few words and the old man could see the tension in Moe's back release as she allowed herself to be gathered up in Greg's embrace. There were trials ahead, trials ahead for all of them. He prayed that the spirits would watch over and guide these two they had a long journey ahead. Life was too raw and dark and he hoped that the anger would not overwhelm.

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That summer Greg and Moe spent most of their time with Black Bob, honing their skills and absorbing as much of their history as possible. None of them ever mentioned that they would leave, it remained unspoken but always present. The two young people threw themselves into their studies relishing the oblivion that each dreamless night brought. Leo was no longer an open wound to Moe but she still found it hard to spend time with her friend. Leo had changed there was a fevered look in her eyes and she no longer seemed to be rooted in this world. The townspeople avoided her, made warding signs when she came near it had been wrong to bring her back they whispered, wrong to bring back a soul which was only half there.

So while Moe and Greg tracked deer and soldiers through the brush, Leo wandered along the banks of the river, talking quietly to herself of a place that was beautiful and where the wind was free.

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- Leo? - Moe approached the smaller girl carefully, as one would a doe or rabbit.

There was no response. Leo continued to lean out over the river's edge, her hand delicately dragging a twig through the eddies of a small pool which had gathered in the roots of a submerged tree. She was talking earnestly to herself, smiling in satisfaction as a leaf moved one way and frowning slightly as it continued out of her reach.

- Leo? - This time Moe prodded her slightly on the shoulder. She felt uncomfortable this close to the reservation fence. The skin on her back crawled as she imagined the eyes of the soldiers staring at her…staring at her friend.

The girl turned to face Moe, the clear blue gaze of her eyes distant and unfocused. She frowned again as if remembering something.

- I have to go soon… - the words trailed off as Leo turned back to look at the river.

Moe sighed, there had been no recognition in Leo's face. - Where do you have to go Leo? Leo? - she took her friend's arm and forced her to turn around. She started to talk slowly as if to a very small child. - I've come to talk you home Leo. -

- Who are you? - There was suspicion in Leo's voice and she pulled back slightly from Moe.

Moe felt like crying. God damn was this unfair. But she pulled herself straighter. - It's Moe Leo, you know me, I'm your friend.-

Leo smiled wistfully and placed her hand trustingly in Moe's larger one. Gratefully Moe took the hand and started to walk back towards the centre of the reservation, away from the river and away from the soldiers.

- Well looky here, if it isn't a fine piece of Indian flesh. - Moe stiffened as the rough voice called out from the other side of the fence. She refused to turn around and, pulling Leo closer, she continued to walk towards the town refusing to give the man the satisfaction of speeding up.

- Wooee, she shure is fine! - the man pulled off his cap and swept his hand through his sweaty hair. - Hey Charlie, isn't that the Indian bitch we did last month. -

Charlie nodded in agreement, licking his lips at the memory. - She's a sweet little piece of ass, guess she came back to get some more of a real man.- he said in agreement, grabbing his crotch and making lewd gestures as some of the other soldiers gathered around to see what the fun was.

Moe continued down the road, her temper flaring.

- Owww… you're hurting me. - She stopped when Leo pounded her on the arm and relaxed her grip slightly. Moe bit back her angry words.

- Come on Leo, - she said urgently, pitching her voice so that the soldiers wouldn't hear - We have to go now. -

- What's going on out here? - A slightly older man, from the looks of his shabby and stained uniform the ranking officer, sauntered out of the command post. He had his arm around the waist of a dishevelled girl and his other hand clutched a whiskey bottle. He waved it around slightly at his men. - I said, what the hell is all this noise? -

There were some more lewd comments and laughter, but Moe couldn't hear the response. She did hear the high pitched voice of the woman as it carried to her, over the shouts and laughs.

- Why if it isn't Moe Ravenwing. What are you doing here girl? Looking for a real man to satisfy your needs? - It was Margo, her voice slurred with alcohol and hatred.

It didn't dignify a response. Moe just kept on walking, dragging Leo after her.

It was August. The grass was now dying, turning brown and mottled in the sun.

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Moe started when the hand snaked out of the darkness and grabbed her wrist, causing her to drop the evil looking hunting knife. She twisted her arm, slipping out of the grip and reached with her other hand for the blade in her boot.

- Christ Moe it's me! - A voice yelped.

It was Greg. - You have _got_ to learn not to do that to me,- Moe snarled. - I'll end up killing you one day by mistake. And what the fuck are you doing here anyways? - Her eyes glittered angrily in the faint light of the moon.

- I'm stopping you from making a mistake. - He hissed back, placing his hand on her lower arm again. - Don't do this Moe, it won't solve anything. -

- How can you say that? - she whispered furiously - It's him Greg, the bastard who did that to Leo. -

- I know Moe, but what is killing him going to solve? -

- What he did was wrong, he deserves to be gutted like the pig he is. -

Greg tightened his grip on Moe's wrist. - No Moe, it's not worth it. He'll pay for this someday but not now, not like this. -

- Why not? -

- It'll only cause more problems. They'll just retaliate against the reservation and more people will get hurt. -

- S'not fair. - Moe hung her head, ashamed at her outburst. If Greg hadn't stopped her she would have done it, to hell with the consequences. But he was right, the soldiers just would have killed more of the Indians in revenge. - I don't think I can take it anymore Greg, - she whispered as he removed his hand and drew her into a rough embrace. She pushed herself away from his chest. - I'm tired of being passive...doing nothing while they do this to us. -

Greg's fingers delicately traced the contours of her face. - You have to have patience Moe. We'll leave here soon and once we're outside… - His hand slipped down to her upper arm, gently stroking the soft dusky skin. The tattoo had healed now the bold lines of the tribal band etched permanently into her skin. It was a statement they had both made, reinforcing their roots and traditions before they would leave He remembered holding her hand tightly clenched in his, her face strangely white in the fire's light, while Black Bob had knelt beside her, needle in hand. And then her holding his head while he received a matching band.

- I won't leave Leo! - The words were quick, vicious almost.

- I know… -

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They found her the next day, floating face down in the water, her hair fanned out around her head like a halo, the eddies sucking and tugging at her dress. Tenderly she was carried out of the river, placed on the bank. Moe didn't cry this time, the land of sunshine had called Leo back. Instead she knelt by her friend's side and swore an oath to herself and her gods.

She and Greg left the town that night.

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Black Bob watched them go angling across the underbrush, headed for the northern region of the reservation. He knew that they would go that way, the fence was less heavily patrolled up there by the distant cliffs. It would take them the better part of the night to get to the cliffs, there they would wait for the cover of night before making their final escape. He knew all this, had taught them all this. The elder closed his eyes, moving his lips silently in a prayer while pouring the sweet smoke of the burning grasses over his head. Raising his voice and his hands he chanted to his ancestors. He chanted for the spirit of the young girl who had been spared the bloodshed which was to come…he chanted for her two friends who raced towards their destiny…he chanted for the dawning of the new day.

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Moe crouched down next to Greg, heart in her mouth, chest heaving wildly. It had taken them less time to get up to the Northern Gate than they had expected. It was about five am, the sun just starting to peak out above the horizon bathing the surrounding cliffs in a pinkish glow. There was very little activity at the gate itself and Moe and Greg had come to a decision. They would make their break this morning instead of waiting for tonight. Both of them just wanted to put as much distance between themselves and the memories. It was risky, but they were both good. Hugging the cliff face, Moe and Greg began their approach.

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The guard by the gate was shivering slightly in the cold chill of the predawn light. His watch would soon be over. He wondered why headquarters had decided to reinforce the complement of men, guess they had heard some news of some Indian riots or something and were worried some of the bastards would try to make a run for it. The new men would be here soon he reckoned, he'd be able to go inside the barracks and warm off.

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Moe inched around the corner, fingers fumbling for her boot knife. She caught it and, flipping it over, hefted it in her hand, trying to find the right balance point. Forcing herself to breath calmly she approached the guard stealthily. She ignored the eagle's scream which echoed amongst the rocks behind her, trusting the guard to be distracted by the call. He was. Quickly crossing the last few paces between them she clubbed him on the back of the head with her knife handle and pulled his suddenly slack body back into the shadows. She whistled, her call matching Greg's earlier signal. A few minutes passed and then she could see him scrambling towards her.

- Is he dead? - Greg murmured quietly, reaching at the same time for the man's pulse.

Moe shook her head. Much as she would have loved to, she agreed with Greg that this was the best way. It might cut down on their lead but it would minimize the backlash to the rest of the town.

Greg signalled her forward with an abrupt motion of his head. She could feel her heart begin to pound again as her adrenalin surged through her veins in anticipation of the final spurt across the compound. She was beginning to wonder if it had been so wise to leave it this late, the dawn was rising now…. She rid her head of the negative thoughts and gave a smile to Greg before slinking into the shadow offered by the main barrack building. A few seconds later Greg followed, tucking the pilfered gun of the soldier into the waistband of his jeans.

Quickly, carefully, slowly they moved across the compound. They were lucky, no one had checked on the unconscious guard…yet. There was a slight rumble in the distance and Moe paused, eyes on the final checkpoint through which they had to pass.

- What's that? - she whispered.

Greg listened, the noise was getting louder and clouds of dust were now visible on the road.

- Crap.- he swore. - Sound's like a truck or something. Come on, we've got to hurry. -

But Moe could see the vehicle cresting the hill herself now. It was more than just a truck, it was a transport vehicle. And that meant soldiers, lots of them.

There was a sharp cry from behind them, someone had evidently found their friend or rather the lack of their friend at his post.

- Shit! Run! - Greg pushed Moe ahead of him. - No time to stick to the shadows, just go Moe! Just keep on running until you don't hear anything and then hide, I'll find you later. -

- Greg wait! - Moe turned back to look at him, horror dawning at what she thought he might do.

- Don't be silly, I'll be right behind you. - Greg reassured her. - Now run!!! - the shouts were getting louder and they didn't have much time.

Arms and legs pumping Moe took off for the checkpoint, her vision focussed only on that final gate. There was no guard there but the truck was getting closer.

- Over there! - Moe didn't look back. They had been seen. She could hear nothing but the blood pounding in her ears. She knew Greg was right behind her. She hit the checkpoint and was through, Greg inches behind her. She stumbled down an incline into the gully off of the road, struggling to keep to her feet.

- Keep on running Moe! - Greg's words came to her and his hands pushed her forward. - No matter what happens don't stop! -

- Greg? - the wind whipped away her words and she was falling forwards, tumbling down into the gorge sending pebbles and dirt showering. She heard his voice but it was high above her…too high. But he had told her to run and so she did. Getting to her feet Moe took off running as fast as she could through the underbrush.

It was deathly quiet, she could only hear the noise of her own lungs, sucking for breath.

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High above her on the road Greg turned to face Scarab's men. He was neatly trapped between the truck and the soldiers from the Northern Gate. He smiled, one of them would get out of here.

- Where's the other one? - the words were rough but not directed at him. The lieutenant from the barrack snapped to attention.

- She appears to have run down into the valley sir. - He snapped out the words to the Commander from the Southern Gate who had come with the reinforcements.

The other man sucked through his teeth before turning to look down into the gorge. He couldn't see anything the girl had apparently disappeared. He swore. They'd find her later. Now to deal with this piece of native trash.

Greg was watching the two men warily. He wouldn't run but knew they were expecting it. He also knew they didn't know about the gun, couldn't know or they would have disarmed him by now. He smiled again.

- What are you laughing at? - the Commander's voice was cold. - We're just going to find your little girlfriend and then you'll have the pleasure of watching her die…slowly. - The lieutenant relaxed slightly and smirked, this was going to be fun.

Greg's smile got wider. They wouldn't find Moe. He raised his hands as if in submission and then whipped out the gun.

The first bullet took the smirk off of the lieutenant's face as his head exploded like a ripe melon. The world slowed until Greg felt like everything was happening in slow motion. He could hear the snick of the soldiers' rifles as they were brought up towards him…could hear the hum of the bullets… could see the…

Safe in her nest of grass and weeds Moe could hear the shots ricochetting wildly off the cliff walls. She buried her head deeper into her arms. There was a silence.

Greg dropped his gun, held his hand's out wide and threw his head back. Outlined against the sun he seemed a fiery messiah.

- I AM FREEDOM'S CHILD ! -

The words echoed off of the cliff face, gaining in strength and volume until they swelled to meet the wind.

There was a final shot and then...silence.


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