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The Mere Presence of Pleasance

I

A string of six women holding hands in this order: Veró, Twire, Marg, Pleasance, Oboe, and Hilda. They are loaded down with camping supplies and are dressed like survivalists. They have enough dirt on them to have been on the move for a good several days. Veró leads them through dim firelight, twining in the near darkness.

PLEASANCE:
How much further?

VERÓ: Sh!

More twining in the dim light.

PLEASANCE:
It’s just that I really need to pee…

MARG:
Oh my god.

OBOE:
Gross.

PLEASANCE:
I’m sorry!

HILDA:
Hold it in.

PLEASANCE:
But how much —?

VERÓ:
Sh!

With her free hand, Veró makes a sharp gesture. Everyone stops moving. Veró listens.

PLEASANCE:
I hear nothing.

Veró glares at Pleasance, who shrivels.

The women barely breathe. The crackle of fire can be heard, but no more.

VERÓ:
They haven’t caught on.

Sighs of relief.

VERÓ:
We’re still a ways from the river. We must maintain our silence and decorum until then. Hold it in, Pleasance.

Pleasance grumbles, but doesn’t push any further. They start to walk.

PLEASANCE:
Actually, I kind of need to take a dump…

ALL:
PLEASANCE.

II

Hilda washes a bloodstained sweater in the Freehold River. Pleasance lingers nearby. She tries to look busy, picking at the bottom of a ration tray, but it’s not convincing.

PLEASANCE:
So…
(beat)
Is it just me — it’s probably just me — but doesn’t it seem like Veró is needlessly uptight?

HILDA:
We’d have been captured and sent back to Clamsterdam already if it weren’t for her.

PLEASANCE:
Yeah. Yeah… of course, yeah. But… I mean, yeah…

HILDA:
(scrubbing ferociously at the sweater)
…motherfucker just had to lay a hand on me, and look what he made me do to my favorite —

PLEASANCE:
I mean, are the Targetbois that dangerous? Really? I mean, we make no sound, all this slinking about… it just doesn’t sit well with me.

HILDA:
You must have been on their bad side before we left.

PLEASANCE:
I mean… a little… we all were… but not —

HILDA:
Take it from me, they are much more dangerous than you think. Ask Veró. Used to be one.

PLEASANCE:
Wait, what?

HILDA:
Mm-hm.

PLEASANCE:
Can we… can we trust her?

Hilda finally looks up from her task to stare at Pleasance.

HILDA:
Don’t say stupid shit.

PLEASANCE:
Okay.

HILDA:
What the hell are you even doing here?

PLEASANCE:
Hey, I’m just asking questions! Nothing wrong with asking —

HILDA:
Doing what we’re doing doesn’t leave much room for doubt.

PLEASANCE:
I’m just saying…

HILDA:
Don’t know why she recruited you. You should be back in Clamsterdam quietly huddled in a crate, wondering if today is your day or not.

PLEASANCE:
Hey!
(beat)
Shut up.

III

The six, in the same order as before, hold hands and twine through dim firelight.

Pleasance breaks ranks.

MARG:
Uh, what are you doing?

PLEASANCE:
Shoelace came undone, just a sec…

VERÓ:
Don’t break the connection!

Marg and Hilda, who were on either side of Pleasance, scramble to hold hands.

HILDA:
What the fuck, Pleasance?

Veró pulls the rest of the group with her as she goes over to Pleasance and puts a hand on one of hers.

PLEASANCE:
Yo, I’m tying.

VERÓ:
Either quit it or do it one-handed. Don’t break the connection.

PLEASANCE:
(wrenching out)
Oh come on, I’m almost done, geez.

Veró springs up straighter, now on high alert. Her eyes flit around as she listens.

She leaps in front of Pleasance. The stomach of her jacket and shirt rip and a carved target appears in her flesh.

HILDA:
Veró!

MARG:
ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod

OBOE:
Run!

PLEASANCE:
Whoa, what happened, what’s —?

Twire, who is now in the front of the line, jerks Pleasance to her feet. Veró is on her knees, clutching her stomach.

TWIRE:
We run to the next river.

HILDA:
Veró!

VERÓ:
Stay… quiet… go!

The group leaves at a trot while still holding hands. They cast glances back at Veró.

Veró disappears into the darkness as firelight fades.

IV

Pleasance is bound in rope. She is placed precariously on the edge of the Whiteglot River.

PLEASANCE:
You can’t do this!

HILDA:
We lost Veró because of your idiocy.

MARG:
Is this really the way?

HILDA:
So she should go free? Traitor is going to sell is out first chance she gets.

MARG:
She’s been punished. We need her.

HILDA:
For what, exactly? Each of us has a specialty except her.

PLEASANCE:
I… I have skills!

HILDA:
Fucking up and getting us captured one by one… good! Useful!

PLEASANCE:
I… I knit! I can paint a little.

HILDA:
You see everybody? Useful.

Hilda plants a foot on Pleasance, about to kick her into the river.

VERÓ:
What… are you doing?

Veró, bloody with gouged targets and chunks of flesh missing, stumbles in.

OBOE:
Veró! You’re alive!

PLEASANCE:
Tell them to stop!

HILDA:
Oh, shut up! She’s a danger to us all, and must be —

Veró kneels in front of Pleasance.

She kisses her.

Veró’s wounds heal.

All are struck dumb.

VERÓ:
Untie her.

TWIRE:
Right away.

PLEASANCE:
Did I do that?

MARG:
I had no idea…

OBOE:
Why didn’t you tell us?

VERÓ:
I thought it was obvious. Look at her.

They do.

PLEASANCE:
Psh, yeah. Obvious! Look at me. Super obvious.

Twire finishes untying Pleasance. She stands, stretches, then smirks at Hilda, who scowls.

Veró slaps Pleasance.

VERÓ:
Don’t be so careless. I want you in the back of the line. Hilda, keep an eye on her.

PLEASANCE:
Hey! Okay! Geez…

Hilda, off to the side, stares volcanic hatred at Pleasance.

V

They hold hands and twine the firelight. Pleasance is missing.

Veró brings them to a stop.

VERÓ:
The Sphincter of Thorns.

MARG:
Is that what that is?

OBOE:
That can’t be what it’s called.

VERÓ:
Pleasance, you’re up. There’s no getting through without getting hurt. We’ll all have to… where’s Pleasance?

HILDA:
Huh? What? Whoa, she’s not here!

Hilda waves an empty hand.

HILDA:
There was that bit through the blizzard… my hand must have been numb and I must not have felt it when she left.

VERÓ:
Where is she?

HILDA:
I told you we couldn’t trust her. She must have run off to get the Targetbois.

VERÓ:
There’s blood on your parka.

HILDA:
Well…
(beat)
She was going to get us killed.

Veró, still holding Twire’s hand, pulls the train along behind her as she goes to Hilda. She punches her.

HILDA:
I did you a favor!

VERÓ:
You’ve doomed us! Those thorns are poisonous! We need her abilities to ensure we won’t vomit our guts out.

HILDA:
Come on, there’s got to be another way around.

VERÓ:
With our rations? It’s going to get very herd these next few weeks because of you.

Veró lunges to hit Hilda again, but Twire pulls her back.

TWIRE:
Cool it, boss. Violence won’t solve this.

HILDA:
That tramp didn’t even love you! You cast me aside for that snake…

VERÓ:
…that’s what this is about.

HILDA:
You discarded me.

VERÓ:
There was nothing between her and I. I broke up with you because you have a tendency to do shit like this.

HILDA:
Take that back. You take that back.
(beat)
(pulls a knife)
You take that back.

Veró looks at her: “you see?”

HILDA:
You don’t just get to use me and… and cast me aside.

Silence.

When Veró speaks next, she is very quiet.

VERÓ:
The way around the Sphincter of Thorns is arduous and long. We haven’t the rations.

HILDA:
Don’t you hang this on me. We have Pleasance’s. I made sure to keep them.

VERÓ:
Won’t be enough.

Veró makes eye contact with Oboe. Oboe gulps, then nods. Veró turns away.

HILDA:
Wait, no, you’re not going to —

Oboe transforms onto a wolf. She pounces on Hilda and rips her throat out with a bite.

Oboe turns back into a human. Blood drips from her lips.

OBOE:
Oh god… that’s gross…
(spits blood out repeatedly)
…hate doing that shit.

VERÓ:
(not turning around)
That should be enough rations.

Twire collects Hilda’s belongings.

VERÓ:
I’ll carry it.

Holding hands, they all leave.

END

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An Inkling in the Eyes of Dying Men