I crouch in the woods gripping the branch
of the tree next to me. My stomach is tumbling inside of me. If it weren’t for
the fact I was scared beyond functioning, I would blame the hare. It feels like
food poisoning.
I look at the gravel on the road in front
of me. I glance back at Jake and Will in the forest hidden by the trees. Jake
smirks at me like a goof. Will looks worried. His face is the one I trust. He
knows what I'm about to do.
"Em we'll wait okay. We won't leave
you." Jake whispers loudly.
"You leave me and Anna if I'm gone
longer than two weeks. They'll have us pregnant by then anyway." I say.
I'm talking to Will. I know Jake has no survival skills. He would die in the
woods waiting for us. He is loyal to the death. Will will leave me before the
two weeks is up.
Will clenches his jaw, "You be fast
Em."
"Sneaky. Fast and sneaky. Oh and
don't get pregnant." Jake says. I gag.
Terror rips through me as I hear the
truck. I look at them one last time and hate myself for kissing them both.
I take a deep breath and push myself away
from the tree. I run across the road into the ditch, when the truck rounds the
corner.
"HAULT!"
I run, not as fast as I can. My legs want
to push it hard but I have to keep reining them in. They want to flee. They
want to do what they're good at. But if I let them go they will outrun everyone
in the truck. I will outrun the truck if I have to. I see a log on the grassy
field in front of me. I brace myself for what is going to come next. I half
jump and feint tripping. The ground isn’t as soft as I assumed it would be. The
strands of grass are filled with sticks and branches I can't see. They scrape
their way across my body as I tumble.
The footsteps of the men, who jumped from
the truck to chase me, are coming. I pretend to scramble up to run some more,
but they are too close.
Huge hands rip into my arms and throw me
to the ground. They pin my face into the rough grass.
A man speaks softly as he fondles my entire body. His hands run my legs and in
between my legs. "Stay calm and we won't hurt you."
I feel a tremble roar though me. The fear
has taken me.
"She's clean."
"She looks freaked man. Cuff
her."
A knee digs into my back. I cry out as
cold metal grips my wrists. I'm lifted off the ground by my elbows, which bends
my arms at painful angles. I want to fight. My body is screaming to defend
itself. I breathe heavily, as tears stream from my face.
I look down. My shirt has drops of blood
starting to make shapes on my chest.
"She's pretty at least."
I see them for the first time. One man is
incredibly tall. He must be a foot taller than me. He looks like a man my
father was friends with, named Serge. He ran an ammunition and hunting supply
place, before.
He looks at me and narrows his eyes for a
moment. The other man grabs my arm and pulls me through the grass. He's closer
to my height and has the fieriest red hair I've ever seen. He grins at me,
"I hope you have diabetes or something."
I frown at him. I look back at the man
I'm almost positive is Serge. He looks at me and nods, "She's going to be
healthy. You can tell."
The redhead smirks, "Maybe I can
find a way to fall on her before we drop her off."
The Serge guy grips my other arm and
drags me closer to him, "No. You leave her alone."
The other guy looks confused, "Fine
if you want her that’s cool. Jesus like I care. There are plenty of ladies in
the back of the truck. She has no tits anyway."
My chest is heaving with panicked breath.
My face is stinging where the blood is dripping.
I sniffle. Serge takes a cloth from his
belt and wipes my face. He gulps and whispers, "Lenny. You knew
Lenny?"
I look at his green eyes and see the
panic. I nod. Lenny was my father. He is Serge.
"Em?"
Of course he recalls my name. Dad bought
my first camouflage from him. He laughed at my dad for outfitting me at the
tender age of four. He hasn’t seen me since I was nine.
"You look just like him."
I want to smile and remember him. I
always thought I looked like her. I'm too scared to do anything.
Serge leans in, "Go with what I say
okay?"
I nod again, but glance at the redhead.
The truck is a huge delivering truck. Men
stand outside of it with guns. They smile when they see me.
"Nice find boys."
"Look at the ass on her."
"Sweet god."
Serge almost rips my arm off as he pulls
me into him, "She's a fighter. I caught her, I get first dibs."
The other guys laugh, "Dirty
bastard. You're old enough to be her daddy." One of the men opening the
door winks at me as he laughs.
"I'm gonna be her daddy
alright." My stomach turns and twists. I know, no I hope, Serge is saying
it to protect me but I don’t know what he's been doing for the last ten years.
Maybe he likes his job. He did chase me down.
The redhead leans in, "She smells
bad Serge." Serge takes my cuffs off as the back door is swung open and
I'm pushed toward the opening. I look back at the woods once and climb inside
of the truck. I'm thrown forward. I feel something jab between my legs. My face
hits the wooden bottom of the truck. I look back at the redhead grabbing at my
thighs. I kick before I can stop myself. My boot lands on his nose. I hear a
crunch as he is thrown back. He screams. Serge sees what I've done and closes
the door. I don’t notice the other people in the truck, I just see the light
leaving me as a scream tears through he air. "
She broke my fucking nose
."
People pound on the door and muffled
screams fill the air around us. I can't make it all out but it seems the
redhead should be allowed to break my nose as revenge. The other men are
calming him down.
In the dark cold air of the truck I hear others. I hear breath and fear in the
blackness.
I press my sore hands into the wooden
floor and push myself up onto my knees. I put a hand out in the dark and feel
nothing.
A woman whispers into the darkness,
"Sit against the wall before we start moving girl."
I crawl my aching body to the wall of the
truck and sit. I press my back against it.
In the dark I sit as reality fills the
small space I am trapped in.
In flashes I remember it.
The crystal clear image of my hands
pressed against the gun.
The sound of her crying outside my door.
The feel of the vibration from her
pounding in her fit.
The fear in my heart that everything will
be different if I open the door. The look in Leo's eyes.
I miss Leo.
Will I ever see him again?
Does he miss me?
The truck starts up. The air and metal
and wood vibrate with the engine. I take a breath. I feel something tickling at
the back of my hand that’s pressed against the hard wooden floor. It's a hand.
I turn my hand over. It's an automatic response. It's not something I would
have done before, but the endless list of things that are possible in my world
are taking turns in my mind.
I feel a small hand fill my palm. It's a
child's. Its small body is suddenly pressed against mine. I try not to shake or
tremble. It must be more afraid than I am.
We bounce down the road. I know we are
less than a day's walk from the breeder farm. It can't be far in a truck.
Soft whimpers and moans fill the truck
that is no longer cool. The body heat creates muggy warmth that makes my skin
feel dirtier than it is.
The little hand in mine is hot. My hand
is sweating. I want to switch hands or just drag mine up and down my pants for
a second but I don’t. I wrap my hand around the small hand. I won't look away.
I won't let it suffer and cry while I hide. I am different now.
The truck comes to a stop suddenly. We
are all jerked forward after getting relaxed in the repetitive motion of the
drive.
Metal scraping along the back of the
truck fills the warm silent dark of the truck.
The door swings open filling the huge
delivery truck with light. The white light makes my eyes seal instantly. I
cover them and brace myself. I squeeze the little hand. I see dark shapes
moving around the opening.
"Out you go bitches."
I force my eyes open to the light. It
takes a second for them to focus. I don’t look at the open door. I turn and
look at the little blonde girl who is sobbing silently next to me. She is about
ten or eleven. Her hair is matted and dirty. The tears have made lines of clean
face in the filth. Her bright blue eyes are filled with terror. I hold her
hand. I won't let her go.
I look at the other women. They range
from the young girl next to me to a lady I think is in her thirties. Fat, thin,
dirty, clean, tired, crying, frozen, confused. The group is diverse. Except in
color. I notice everyone is white.
Before I can process this too much, I
notice the redhead giving me a death stare from outside of the truck. He grips
his rifle and watches me.
I look down as the grin spreads across my
face. I feel a nervous giggle about to burst from me.
Serge is standing at the back of the
truck. He gives me a look and grabs my ankle.
"Let's go." He drags me from
the truck. I drag the little girl with me. She won't let go.
I see something I haven’t seen in along time.
A huge shiny white building stands surrounded by a parking lot with cars parked
in between the lines. There are no vines or grass growing up the sides of the
building. It's clean and sparkly like before. The pavement is flat and new.
There are no cracks or weeds growing up through it. There are no cars burned
out or missing all the parts. The cars are real and whole. They even shine.
My feet hit the ground with a thud. His
fingers dig into my shoulders. "Don’t move."
The little blonde is standing next to me
holding my hand. She is hiding in the curves of my body.
Serge digs his gun into my ribs,
"Move."
The men are jumping into the truck and
hauling, screaming and sobbing women from the back where they’ve watched me be
dragged. I walk toward the huge building. It's five stories high and looks very
long.
The little girl curls into me as Serge
jabs me again with the barrel of the gun.
I shoot him a dirty look. He winks at me.
I hear screaming in the truck behind me.
I look back to see several women walking with us, mostly the young ones. Few
guards are with us. The rest are jumping into the back of the truck. My stomach
curdles.
Serge shakes his head, "Don’t
watch." He whispers and hits me with the gun again. I can see the regrets
in his eyes. Shame crosses his face. He knows I know. He would have been in the
back of the truck with the screaming women chosen to stay behind. I can hear
the tearing and screaming. It always sounds the same.
I shake my head and squeeze the blonde
into me. She clutches me tightly. I look around and make sure the other little
girls are with us. I think I see them all. I want to take Serge's gun and kill
the guards and save the women in the truck.
Instead we walk through a door and a
blast of frigid air hits me.
Serge has the gun in my ribs again. I
remember the feeling of the cold air. It brings a memory with it. My dad and me
at the mall. He hated all the people, but he needed to get some things. I smile
and remember the carousel. I'd never seen anything like it. He put a dollar in
the machine and I climbed on. The horse had dark golden hair like mine. I
gripped it and the machine started. The joy that hangs in the cold air fills me
with bravery and courage for a minute.
A doctor walks toward me with a white
spaceman suit on. He grabs my arm and tries to separate me and the blonde. She
screams and I grip her arms. I wish she could have ridden the carousel. She
would have liked it.
"She stays with me."
The doctor rolls his eyes behind the
plastic and nods, "Fine. In you go." He points to a hallway. I walk
down it and am pushed through a door.
Serge is against me and whispering in my
ears, "I will come for you. Be ready. I will send you a message. I won't
let you die in here."
"Get off her soldier." The
doctor sounds funny behind his mask. Serge pushes me one more time.
I'm gripping the little girl and standing
in front of a door. It opens suddenly. A lady in a space suit peers out. She
smiles at me with bright pink lipstick behind the plastic, "Come this way
my dear."
Her voice is sweet.
I glance back at Serge and the other
girls being led to the hallway where I stand.
Serge turns the corner but steals another
glance at me before he vanishes.