He had sandy peppered coloured
hair and almost translucent blue eyes, but there was a certain wariness in them
that made me uneasy.
“Yes”
I replied even though I knew he didn’t need my affirmation. All of a sudden I
felt like a wayward school girl being chastised in front of a principal.
“You
led our boys a merry chase” he said and I quickly glanced in the direction of
yellow eyes.
“I’ve
been told I like to run around”
“Hmm,
it’s not every day that they come across young girls like yourself…” he trailed
off. It was an odd thing to say and I found myself eyeing the man with even
more wariness. Did they wish that more young girls would cross their path, for
what purpose? I thought maybe yellow eyes noticed my shift in mood because he
stepped out in front of the older man and offered me his hand.
“My
name is Owen” he said in a stronger more authoritative voice than the one I had
heard earlier, “What Old Mal is trying to say is that it’s dangerous out there
for girls. You’re lucky we found you before any of those mobs did. You’re safe
here.” He smiled a full toothed grin.
Looking
at the other two women I couldn’t judge if they were included in the ‘safe’
category since they weren’t girls.
“Do
you keep all the girls locked away in shipping containers then?” I asked
sarcastically. Neither Owen nor Old Mal took that very well, but before they
could get in a retort one of the women stepped forward and pulled my gun out
from one of her pants pockets. They were ugly beige slacks with deep draped
pockets, but one thing they did do well was conceal a weapon.