The Rock Child Read Online Free PDF Page B

could juggle seven balls. He could make a knife dance through the air and between your ribs. With either hand he could shoot a hole in a high-spun coin. For Porter Rockwell making a copper appear right side up was child’s play, and this was a fool’s game.
    Actually, it was too bad no one would see him cheating and accuse him of it. Rockwell would enjoy punishing that impertinence, especially in front of Sheriff Conlan.
    The heathen whirred his noisemaker. A roar rose with the mounting clamor. The six men who survived the first flip spun their coins into the dingy light. Porter Rockwell concealed a second copper between his fingers and gave a nasty one-quarter smile.
4
    In the dreamy world people were moving around her, and the voices made a low, low rumble. She was naked in the dream, maybe—somehow she couldn’t open her eyes to see herself or move her hands to touch herself. But the moving, rumbling people were looking at her naked and pointing, leering, and laughing at her. She couldn’t make out the dreamworld words, but the talk sounded ugly, threatening—the sound the earth would make, she imagined, before a landslide. Her body quivered .
    From a distance she heard thunder, low. It was going to rain. She writhed. She was afraid of being naked and cold in the rain. Somehow the rain would be filthy, it would soil her, she had to get out of the rain …
    A rough hand touched her shoulder.
    Trying to awake, she felt a curious floating sensation, like a boat sailing not on water but on mist. Opium . She remembered from her time with the bandits … This is what opium feels like .
    Hands under her back and knees. She forced her eyes open and saw the hairy top of a white-man head. She could feel the air on her bare skin, bare all over, every inch. A dozen men’s faces leered at her. Her robes lay beneath her body, and every inch of her was exposed to the leers.
    I call upon Mahakala .
    “Here we go, Polly,” said the American. He scooped her up in his arms.
    Mahakala, destroyer goddess, eater of men, help me!
    She screamed. With all her body and spirit she howled, shrieked, and screeched. She wriggled and fell. She thumped back onto the table where she’d lain. The white man looked at his empty hands. His mouth looked amused, his eyes angry.
    Men’s voices laughed raucously.
    The air felt cold between her legs, and almost hurt her nipples. She covered herself with her hands. Mahakala, come to my aid .
    “Polly, you don’t want to cause trouble.” The white man had a bony face, wild eyes, the longest hair she’d ever seen on a man, and those awful eyes. The eyes of a man with a spirit he has killed, the eyes of a destroyer of self and others .
    Behind him, peering faces, loud laughter. She thought about it. Naked doesn’t matter . She cocked her arm to hit him and felt her wrist grabbed by a cruel hand from behind. Both wrists.
    “Now, Polly,” a mocking voice said, “this ain’t goin’ to hurt you none.”
    Another voice put in, “It might be celestial!”
    Men’s laughter lashed out.
    “Name not Polly,” she said calmly. “Sun Moon.”
    “Polly!” several voices snapped. “China Mary!” boomed others.
    Long Hair reached out and pinched a nipple between thumb and forefinger.
    She squirmed with pain. “No!” she yelled. She tried to slap him, but her hand was held firm.
    “Polly don’t like us,” said a voice with mocking melody.
    Long Hair looked her in the eye. She could feel his angry spirit now. Her attempt to slap him had been foolish, silly, childish, unworthy of the strength of Mahakala. Cold air and cold eyes caressed her yoni . He stretched a hand between her legs.
    Goddess destroyer! She kneed Long Hair hard in the face.
    He snapped upward, holding his head.
    Drinker of blood! She kicked him in the nose, and his blood gushed.
    Hands ripped her backward, some on her head, some on her shoulders and hips. One smashed her right breast. Another groped at her crotch. Destroyer of worlds!