“I promise you won’t get hurt if you do what you’re told, but I can’t promise you anything as long as you don’t do exactly as I tell you. Do you understand?”
I let the tears run down my cheek and burn my skin. I must have gotten cut. I sobbed and tried to wipe the salty water off, nodding my head.
“Good.” He sat there for a moment, just a few inches above my body as I’d long gone lost my composure and let my nose run, my tears now fresh on a worn-out face. “We leave in three days.”
I thought about my mom. I thought about my dad and Sarah. How had they seen me? Daughter? Sister? I realized how effortless it was to lose sight of my own identity within daily life, but when I became grounded to my past, it always seemed to come back. And at that moment it was simple: I was not a sex slave.
I wiped my nose with the back of my hand and got up from my cot. My eyes and nose felt puffy, probably still red, and a burning pain continued to throb through the side of my face. I felt emotionally spent, like a void had built up inside of me as soon as my insides came crashing down and absorbed into oblivion. It was an interesting feeling and I’d always been surprised at how clearly I would be able to think afterward. It didn’t matter if it was because I’d gotten yelled at for stealing a pack of gum and balling my eyes out at the mature age of twelve or getting into a heated argument after school and slamming my door shut, crying, being pissed off. Once it had all drained away, my actions had become clear. So it was clear to me that I had to leave. I had to find Zach.
I gazed around my new home, my familiar little tent. I realized that things were different now. In this new world, this harsh, unpredictable universe where other people tried to take advantage of you and there wasn’t a simple phone number that you could call to get help, it simply wouldn’t hurt to have something sharp.
I grabbed the wall of my tent and rubbed the soft fabric in between my fingers. The problem was I didn’t have anything to work with, but I made a mental note to remember that a giant piece of cloth and dry air would probably make a good fire if I ever got my hands on something to start one.
I stared at my cot. It was the only thing left when I came back. I slowly walked over and bent down to check underneath the frame, careful not to twist or excite any of the muscles near my neck in any way. It was a metal, solid piece of work with nothing loose or extendable to pry off, but it gave me an idea.
I dashed the front flap of my tent to the side and stepped out into the open, the last waning rays of light hitting me as they broke across the horizon. I took a few steps to the side and followed a guy line made of nylon as it passed through the top of the tent and then down into the ground, securing it in place. I had used to trip on them all the time when I had gone camping with my family.
I pulled on the line, eventually ripping it from the ground and grabbing onto the anchor, a long, metal, pointy spike. I tested it against the palm of my hand and carefully watched the tip press in on my skin. Any harder and it would puncture. It would definitely work.
Satisfied, I threw the extra slack of rope back onto my tent before cleaning off the improvised weapon on my thigh and tucked it into the back of my pants, underneath my shirt. If I did everything right, then I wouldn’t even have to use it.
If
I did everything right.
I wasn't even sure where my feet were taking me as I placed one in front of the other, but it didn't matter, because it didn't last long. One look at the outside fence and I quickly learned that I wouldn’t be getting out that way. It was at least ten feet high with another foot and a half of barbed wire that faced outward at a forty-five degree angle. I grabbed onto the thick chain links and let my fingers poke through while I looked off into the distance. I was in the middle of nowhere. Even if I managed to make it out and somehow found Zach in time, where the hell were we supposed to go?
I pulled on the fence and was surprised to feel it shake. A sudden vibration rattled my hands and the sound of rusted metal hit my ears from a few ways down. I let go and could hear voices in the same direction. I started walking towards the commotion and checked to make sure that the spike was still tucked in the back of my pants. It shouldn’t have made me feel safer, but the sound of hearing someone shout again was putting me on edge. I stopped once I reached an opening.
Two armed guards rushed to swing a gate open as a third man covered in dirt dragged another across the ground and into the camp.
He dropped the motionless body and tried to catch his breath. “Hey!”
A wave of guards ran past me and stopped just short, the first with his weapon raised. “He needs help—“
“Drop the gun!”
He glanced at the rifle slung on his shoulder and was knocked across the face before he could even move. His falling body knocked up dirt that immediately caught itself in the air and his ribs received another butt stock for good measure.
“What the hell do you think you’re trying to do?” The one in charge disarmed him and pointed at the wounded man, ordering his crew. “Get him to Martha.” They quickly did as they were told and ran past me again. The leader followed from behind and took a second to finally notice me.
I couldn’t look away. I swallowed hard and could feel my muscles tense up along my arms and down into the balls of my fists as he walked towards me, but he let it go and passed without incident. Witnesses weren’t anything anymore. I was nothing. I watched the poor guy that had been left behind push himself back onto his hands and knees.
He spat on the ground and a crimson line of liquid stretched from his lips. His reward, no doubt, for helping one of the men that had taken us hostage.
I surprised myself and stretched out a hand. “Are you okay?”
He slowly glanced up at me and I could see his red stained teeth. They stuck out in the middle of his dirty face and matted, brown hair. The old me might have looked away, maybe even made a face, but now all I could think about was how tired he must have been.
“Yeah…” He grabbed my hand and I tried pulling him up, only to have both of us stumble over the combined weight. “Where'd you come from?”
“It's a long story.” I let him lean against my good shoulder as he grabbed his side and winced. I didn’t think he would do any better on his own. “I think you need help.”
He grunted at that and spat on the ground again, almost pulling me over.
I could feel the added strain tug on my bandage and a sharp pain shot up through my neck towards my collar bone. There was no way we could both stay standing like that.
“Got any good ideas?”
I glanced up at where the guards had run. “Not really.” I was betting I could follow them to Martha just fine, but I wasn’t sure if the rest of the men around her would be exactly beneficial to our well-being. Still, better that than nothing. “Come on.”
We struggled to move. Each step had to be a careful balancing act as to spare him from his own pain as well as to keep the strain off my shoulder. I took the moment to stare at his face, inches from my own. We had nothing in common except that we were both hurt and being held captive, yet he might as well have been my best friend for all that it mattered.
We pushed each other back towards the maze of tents until we could hear voices again and painstakingly shuffled our way inside what I guessed was the correct one, the struggle finally paying off to see Martha surrounded by the men that had just past us.
One of them turned to gawk, but he didn’t seem to care.
I sat Jeremy down onto an empty cot and carefully lowered his back to watch him grimace. I wasn't sure of what to do with my hands. I turned to watch Martha work on the wounded man that had been brought in. I didn't understand why I ought to care what happened to him, but the hovering group continued to press.
Martha shook her head and put a hand on the wounded’s neck, pushing someone back and shouting over everyone's questions. “His pulse is too low. If we can’t stabilize this bleeding...” The rest of her words trailed off as she looked up and everyone else slowly followed suit. All the sound in the room was sucked out in an instant.
I swiveled to find why and immediately regretted seeing Ryan stare back. He stood in the entrance and looked everyone over before eventually taking a step towards the small crowd. “I don’t suppose anyone would care to explain to me what the fuck is going on here?”
One of his men walked forward only to get poked in the chest.
“Not you.” Ryan pushed him to the side and peered down at the bleeding man. “You.”
I took a step closer to see the pain on his face, a pale mess covered in smudges of blood that ran around his sunken eyes. A gaping wound flooded the top of his stomach, too big to be covered by a single rag, while a torn piece of flesh hung from a side as if it were a simple, wet, raw piece of meat. I couldn’t guess what could have caused that kind of damage, especially once I saw the set off deep paralleled lines embedded into his skin.
Claw marks.
The man tried to catch his breath as a non-sympathetic Ryan took in the wound.
“You might wanna hurry up.”
His breathing quickened and turned shallow in response, forcing any words out by their end. “Sh—she—she’s here…”
We all looked back at Ryan to see his reaction, but he only narrowly furrowed his brow. “Who?”
The man reached up against his blazer and smeared a line of blood across the patched fabric, dropping his shaky hand just in time for Ryan to catch whatever he had held up. His voice came out coarse and dreadful. “J-Jessica...”
I could feel my entire body tense at the sound of the word.
What?
I dared myself to look around the room, yet if the name meant anything to anyone, nobody showed it.
It must have just been a coincidence. Maybe the man was just delirious or there was another Jessica besides me. It could have been anything. I had to remind myself that Ryan was the only one that knew my name, anyway. At least, Ryan and...
Martha.
I glanced over in her direction and was actually relieved to see her do the same. It seemed that she didn't know what was going on either. After all, I had never met the bloody man on the cot before. I had nothing to do with him.
Ryan continued to stare down at his cupped hand and stood motionless, revealing just the top of something small and shiny. He barely lowered the tiny object, about to say something, but quickly changed his mind and surrounded it with a fist. “Get him the fuck out of here.”
He tried to step out just as one of his men grabbed him by the arm. “Hey. What the fuck is he talking about?”
Ryan shoved him back. “I said, MOVE.” He pointed at Martha as soon as she opened her mouth. “You're done here.” He caught my stare but said nothing as he stormed outside and his men reluctantly followed in silence.
They lifted the wounded man away and he questioned where they were taking him, though nobody was able to give him a clear answer. They treated him like, what? Nothing? A bad sight?
Was that what I had to look forward to in the new world? Certain death followed by silence? I didn't want to believe that everything I had known had devolved into survival, to pick and choose who to care about otherwise risk falling apart, but it didn't matter. The people on my side had already been chosen for me. Ryan had seen to that.
“Jeremy?”
I turned back to see Martha step over to the man that I dragged inside and I made a mental note to remember his name.
She glanced over at me, this time much more worried than she had been with the first. “What happened?
”
It felt like it was my fault. “I-I don't know.”
Jeremy looked up and gave her a blood stained smile. “Hey, Mar.”
She pulled his shirt up to show us dark purple blotches along his entire side and swore. “Jesus, Jere.”
“Hey, at least I opted out on the belly button ring.” He smiled again and Martha caught his lip with a finger, but he nudged it off. “Don’t worry, that’s just how they said hello, first.”
She put her hands on his chest. “Any trouble breathing?”
“Are you kidding? I’m surrounded by beautiful woman.”
She frowned at that. “Jeremy... I need you to take deep breaths.” She put her ears to his chest and listened for what to do next before spouting over my shoulder. “Amanda, I need water and ibuprofen, aspirin, codeine, whatever we have left.”
I glanced back and was surprised to see the little girl that had found me in the field. I must not have noticed her earlier. I wasn't sure what to say.
Thank you for saving my life so that I could get raped at gunpoint?
Or was that too much? I decided to keep it simple. “Hi.”
We stared at each other until she was prompted again to run off and find what we needed.
Martha quickly continued with Jeremy and pressed her fingers into the dark colors in front of her, gauging his reaction. I could only guess what she was looking for.
I didn't want to get in the way, but my curiosity got the best of me. “What happened?”
Jeremy winced every time she continued to prod, so he answered in shallow breaths. “They needed help carrying some supplies, so we split up. I heard somebody shoot. That's when I found him...” He hovered a hand over his stomach, unsure. “Bleeding...I didn't really think about sticking around to find out why.” He clenched his jaw again. “It was probably a bear or something.”
“A bear...” I started dryly.
In the middle of nowhere.
He took a moment to peer at me. “Okay, yeah, I don't know then. Nothing good.”
Martha let herself breathe. “Well, as far as I can tell, you've fractured a rib or two, but I don’t think they’re broken.”