Murderville (6 page)

“Everybody out!” a guard yelled as he stood in the door, blocking the light. That’s when A’shai realized that he wasn’t dying, but the soldier had opened the door letting in sunlight. The soldier had a gun in hand as he barked orders telling everyone to hurry up. It was as if he was a sheepherder and the children were his cattle. Everybody scrambled to get to the door as the soldier stood by handing out bread as each person exited. A’shai was the last one in line to exit, and the soldier focused on him. It was the same soldier that slashed his face. The soldier smiled as he saw A’shai walk slowly while gripping his stomach in agony. A’shai’s face had bloodstains on it, and the wound had slightly scabbed over.

“Your big mouth isn’t so big now, huh?” the soldier said as he dropped the last piece of bread on the floor. He wanted to humiliate A’shai and let him know who was boss. A’shai looked at the soldier and then at the piece of bread on the floor. He wanted to step over the bread and keep walking to hold onto his dignity, but the hunger pains wouldn’t allow him to. A’shai slowly bent down and began to gobble up the bread, stuffing the whole slice into his mouth. The soldier put his hand on his slight gut and began to laugh at A’shai’s animalistic actions. Although A’shai was not in a position to say anything, he vowed that he would get revenge if the opportunity ever presented itself.

“That’s right! Eat off the floor, you filth, and come to the deck when you’re finished. We are almost to our destination,” the guard said as he left A’shai there kneeling on the floor.

The bright lights nearly blinded Liberty as she stood in line to exit the boat and go onto the dock. Ms. Beth had kept her along with ten other girls on the upper deck in a dark room for the entire trip, giving them food every six hours. Liberty had cried so much that she had red marks beneath her swollen eyes. The soldiers hurried them off the ship at gunpoint. They had already explained to them before they opened the door that if they tried to run they would be shot. All of the young children were petrified, so running was not an option. Liberty looked for A’shai but his group had already been escorted to the warehouse where the kids were housed.

Ms. Beth shook the hand of El Garza, an overweight Mexican man. Then she accepted the bag with about six million pesos inside of it, which was about half a million dollars in American currency. She smiled knowing that she had enough to return to the States and relax off the money she had just made. She looked at what she did as nothing more than a job. She left her feelings and morals at home while she stole unknowing victims from their native third world countries.

The children were herded into a factory where the immigrants were kept. Liberty looked frantically for A’shai as she entered the gigantic, open-spaced building that had cots set up everywhere. It was full of people of different ethnicities. The loud chatter from everyone was overwhelming as Liberty timidly looked around. The armed men closed the door, leaving them in the warehouse amongst the pandemonium. Young Mexican guards walked around with guns to keep everyone in order.

“Liberty!” a familiar voice yelled, catching her attention. She looked around and saw A’shai heading her way. She hurried to him, and they hugged once they got close.

“Shai, I’m scared,” she said as she broke down crying.

“I will protect you. I promise,” A’shai stated as he hugged her tightly. He guided Liberty over to a less crowded corner and they sat down while holding each other wondering what was to come next. Their lives had taken an unexpected turn for the worse in such a short time and the only thing they had was each other. They both knew that things would never be the same again.

* * *

A’shai and Liberty had been at the factory for more than two weeks where they both were quickly put to work. They found out that they would be expected to help cultivate the cocaine fields. A’shai stayed close to Liberty as much as he could. He tried to protect her, not only from the Mexican drug cartel that ran the fields, but also the other trafficked prisoners who were hostile about the scarce food. A’shai remembered the day so vividly when Liberty was ripped away from him and their lives took two totally different paths.

Young Mexican boys, members of the infamous Garza drug cartels, patrolled the fields with shotguns in hand as they made sure the field workers were working and not horse playing. A’shai was side by side with Liberty as they held their individual sacks and stuffed them with coca leaves. The Mexican drug cartel used these leaves to produce grade A cocaine that would eventually be smuggled into the U.S. for wholesale. The hot sun beamed down on the workers as they toiled for hours under the tyrannous, watchful eyes of the armed cartel members. The coca leaves grew wildly and were limitless, and the cartel took full advantage. A’shai and Liberty worked frantically so that they could fill up their sacks. The rule was: no full sack . . . no food, so the children and women had to work quickly because they only had about an hour before the sun went down.

“Shai, I feel like I’m about to pass out. I’m hungry, and I can’t do this much longer,” Liberty whispered as she bent down to snap off a leaf.

“Okay, listen. Just walk next to me, and I will fill your bag up,” A’shai said as he noticed that Liberty’s bag wasn’t nearly as full as his own. He began to work overtime as he stuffed Liberty’s bag as well as his own. After half an hour of hard work, he had finally gotten Liberty’s bag nearly full. He sweated profusely but it was all worth it for A’shai. He just wanted to help and protect Liberty.

As they made their way down the row of leaves, a young boy of Haitian descent eased up on them. Neither A’shai nor Liberty ever saw it coming. The boy snatched Liberty’s bag out of her hand while dropping his own half empty bag.

“Hey man!” A’shai yelled as he looked up and saw what the boy had done.

“Give me my bag!” Liberty yelled as she tried to grab it back but the boy slapped her hand away. The young Mexican guard heard the fussing and quickly fired a shot into the sky to regain order. He spoke in Spanish telling them to get back to work. A’shai wanted to tell the guard that the Haitian stole Liberty’s bag, but he knew that it wouldn’t make a difference. He had gotten caught slipping, and he would have to pay for it.

“Get back to work!” the guard said as he pointed to A’shai.

A’shai clenched his teeth and gave Liberty his full bag, while taking the half-full bag that the boy left. The whistle sounded off while A’shai tried desperately to make up for the leaves that were stolen but his attempt was futile as they had to make their way back to the warehouse. He looked at Liberty and she had tears in her eyes; one of them would not eat that night. A’shai had already decided that he would give Liberty his bag and would miss the only meal of the day. He would do anything to keep her safe, including sacrificing his own well-being.

A’shai lay on the floor of the warehouse with Liberty in his arms trying his best to keep her warm. All of a sudden the sound of steel doors being opened awakened them. The lights clicked on, and a bullhorn sounded off as a group of men and one woman barged into the building.

“Everybody! Get up!” a man said in broken English on a bullhorn. The woman led the pack as her eyes scanned the place and everyone wondered what was going on. She began to point out girls who would then be grabbed up immediately by the guys. Obviously they were rounding girls up for some reason, and A’shai began to get nervous as they approached Liberty and him.

“Her!” the woman yelled as she pointed to Liberty. A guard rushed towards her, snatching her out of A’shai’s arms.

“Nooo!” Liberty yelled as she reached for A’shai, lunging for him as the men pulled her away.

A’shai stood up quickly and yelled, “Let her go!” One of the guys pushed him down and caused him to fall on his back. The woman then signaled for them to go. She had gotten the girls that she wanted and was ready to leave. What they didn’t know was that the woman had just gone shopping . . . shopping for prostitutes that she would soon exploit in the States. A’shai yelled for Liberty as they walked out, and he would never forget the look in her eyes as she was ripped away from him. It was the beginning of a painful path for Liberty, and all A’shai could do was watch helplessly.

FIVE

LIBERTY’S SENSES WERE SO HEIGHTENED THAT SHE
could hear her own breathing. She dared not speak. The blacked-out windows allowed no light to enter the van and time stood torturously still as Liberty was transported to a destination unknown. Thirst plagued her, hunger gripped her tiny stomach, and fear stifled her as she cried silently . . . eyes wide but seeing nothing, soul crying while simultaneously muting all sound that escaped from her dried lips. The ride was so long that she had no choice but to defecate, soiling the little clothing that she wore. No food . . . no water . . . no fresh air. The lack of necessities tormented her young mind, terrifying her. The fact that A’shai was no longer by her side made her stomach flip-flop from vulnerability. She wondered where he was and if he was okay, but mostly she wondered where she was headed all the while praying for someone to rescue her. For three days she sat in the back of that van, starving; her knees folded to her chest as she held onto them for dear life. She tuned out the sounds of the whimpering girls around her. She didn’t need to adopt any of their fears to know she was in trouble. The emptiness that she felt inside was unbearable. Flashes of her old village being raided raced through her mind. Her body battled with the overwhelming heat in the van as a chill came over her. She wanted to pray for GOD’s mercy but as she thought of her current circumstance she concluded that HE couldn’t exist.
This would not be happening to me if GOD was real,
she thought. Aghast with uncertainty, she never closed her eyes. She couldn’t sleep, not when her heart was racing like she had stampeding thoroughbreds in her chest. She could barely hold her eyes open as fatigue plagued her, but her fear was constant and kept her awake the entire trip. The car finally stopped moving, and Liberty crawled to her knees unsure of what fate lay ahead of her. Anxious to stretch their legs, the women and young girls groaned as the doors were opened and they were freed from the back of the van.

“Get out! Hurry up! Get out!” one of the men shouted as he held an automatic assault rifle while moving them out of the vehicle like a herd of cattle. The sun’s rays were blinding, almost painfully. After days of nothing but darkness, the light was just as foreign as this new place she had been brought to. Liberty’s neck was on a swivel as she looked around for Ms. Beth. Even though the white woman was the very person who lured her into her current predicament, Liberty still hoped that Ms. Beth would help her . . . rescue her . . . free her.

“Line them up!” a man shouted.

Liberty was pushed into an orderly line. Her soiled clothes were ripped from her body, leaving her naked. At only ten-years-old nothing about her was womanly . . . nothing sexy . . . but despite this she could sense the inappropriate stares of lust as the men assaulted each of them with their eyes. To her captors this was business, big business at that. They could assess the value of each of the captives just by looking at them, and Liberty’s youth actually worked in their favor. Not yet old enough to be sold, but young enough to work the streets and brothels, they had time to mold her. Her description, light African girl, was foreign for the region she had come from and would get the traffickers top dollar when the time came. It might take years before they received a big profit off her sale, but in the meantime she would work and become well versed in the art of sexual persuasion.

Out of nowhere Liberty and the rest of the girls were blasted with high pressure hoses, and the water was so icy that it took her breath away as it chilled her to the bone. The force was so strong it almost knocked her off her feet. As if she was a dog being washed, they sprayed until all of the dirt and grime had been removed and then left her shaking uncontrollably with nothing to keep her warm. She covered her privates as best as she could with her small hands as the men began to split the girls up into groups. They were being ranked, categorized . . . a price invisibly tagged on their toes. When they got to her, Liberty dropped her head shamefully, but the male trafficker that looked down at her smiled in satisfaction.

“A mulatto,” he whispered, knowing that Liberty had the blood of a white man somewhere in her African heritage. “Start her on the street. If she does well, upgrade her to the brothels. Keep her well. As she grows older her value will increase. No track marks! No scars! No diseases!” the man shouted, ordering the packaging and handling instructions for Liberty.

She was shoved out of the line and into a circle with the other kids that were to be put into street prostitution.

Everyone worked. That was the rule. If you didn’t work, you didn’t eat and Liberty was quickly learning that. As the hunger pangs gripped her stomach, she watched the other children eat. Most of them had fallen into submission fairly easily, but Liberty protested each and every time she was put on the corner. They lived out of a warehouse that had been sectioned off and split into different rooms. The children serviced every type of client, and even the little boys were expected to earn their keep. Being turned out before they even hit puberty, little boys were put on the track to attract pedophiles. Some of the young boys were even dressed like women, wearing short skirts with tape concealing their genitals, accessorized with half tops . . . being turned into transvestites before they even knew what sexuality was. Liberty lived in a sex-filled world that terrified her . . . one that she refused to participate in willingly. She was too beautiful to strike so the traffickers starved her as punishment, and it had gotten to the point where she was dry heaving uncontrollably from the empty feeling in her stomach. Two weeks had passed and her body was so weak that she lay curled in a ball of pain. The only thing that she had consumed was the dirty water that she caught in a bucket as it leaked through the warehouse roof. The time passed gruesomely slow as she cried endlessly, wishing that death would come for her. The sound of locks clicking let her know that someone was entering her room. She lifted her eyes to the door and noticed a woman enter the room. The male workers that ran the street operation stood behind her, and she raised her hand in dismissal.