Chapter 4 #2
She nodded. "OK, Kit, but I don't know how far I can go. My leg is killing me, and I feel nauseous."
I felt sick to my stomach, too. We were both starving. It had to be past midnight by now. I put my arm around Beck's waist to ease some of the weight off her leg.
If we run into a person out here in east butt-fuck land, I can only imagine what they will think of seeing two women in bathrobes, winter boots, and collars locked around their necks. They'd probably think we'd just escaped from prison.
Shit! A thought just hit me.
I wonder if they have trackers in these fucking chokers. My pulse raced, and my hands turned clammy. I hid my emotions from Becca so she wouldn't freak out.
God dammit!
There has to be a way we can remove these fucking shitty collars!!! Grabbing onto Becca's waist again, we continued to walk deeper into the shadows.
I don't know what types of bugs and animals they have in Mexico. I just prayed that we wouldn't get chewed up by super-sized insects or eaten by some fucking wild dog.
It didn't help that it was almost pitch-black outside. The moon cast a slight glow in the sky, but that didn't make things easier for Becca and me.
We could barely see two feet in front of us. Continuing for what seemed like an eternity, we kept trekking along, taking tiny sips of water every twenty minutes or so. We had to be careful because we had very little of the precious liquid left.
Thankfully, we had our boots on, because there were a lot of rocks out here in the desert. They weren't like the rocks we had back home. Some of them looked like small boulders. We would never have made it this far barefoot.
Both of us were getting tired fast. Beck's head drooped forward, limp and weak. My poor friend was completely drained, and her leg hurt like hell.
She didn't complain about it, but I knew it was the reason for her slow gait. The brush became denser as we continued on our lost journey. When I almost gave up and suggested we sleep on the ground for the rest of the night, I spotted a dim light ahead. I couldn't contain my excitement.
"Beck, look!” I said, pointing forward. “Do you see that?"
She lifted her chin, gazing toward the glow. Taking a deep breath, she replied happily.
"Oh, my God, Kit, yes. Do you think it's a house?"
I let go of her waist and grabbed her hand, feeling elated.
"I hope it is. Let's keep our fingers crossed and hope God answers our prayers."
I pulled Becca along, both of us taking bigger strides toward our freedom. We were close enough to see that it wasn't just one house, but multiple homes.
They were all one-story cottages made of crumbling, dingy white cement, shaped like blocks. There was trash strewn around the properties—no porches, no grass; nothing pleasant and homey. I knew immediately that we were in the poorest part of the country. It reeked of despair and misery.
A few rusty old vans were parked along the dirt road connecting the houses in the small area. I was deflated, uninterested in knocking on one of the dilapidated wooden doors that led into each of the decaying buildings.
Becca groaned as soon as she saw the surrounding filth.
I put my finger to my lips.
"Shhh. We don't want to wake anyone up. Let's see if one of the vans is unlocked. We can sleep in it for the night. Then we’ll slip out as soon as the sun comes up before anyone notices we’re here.”
Becca's voice cracked.
"I'm so tired, Kit, I don't even care. I am with you. Please let's get some rest before I pass out on the ground."
I nodded, pulling her alongside me.
We tiptoed around the garbage on what was supposed to be a front lawn and walked to the closest van, parked awkwardly between a half-collapsed shed and a rotting fence. Its paint was faded and chipping, and tall weeds surrounded it. This looked like the perfect hiding place.
Thank god it was a reasonable distance from the house. I didn't want anyone to see or hear us. I pulled on the door handle, praying it was unlocked and wouldn't fall off its hinges.
It opened right up, bringing a loud squeaky moan along with it. I hissed between my teeth while clenching my fists, hoping no one heard the offending sound.
We stayed completely still, waiting to see if anyone would come running out of what some poor soul called home. No one did. I climbed into the foul-smelling bucket of bolts and helped Becca up.
Once she was inside, I closed the door gently so no one could hear. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to acknowledge our presence. This neighborhood was unpleasant, so it was best to stay as invisible as possible.
Becca sat on one of the torn, worn-out seats. My friend looked like she had been through a war. I sat next to her, pulling her in for a hug.
She quietly sobbed into my matted hair. I rubbed her back, trying to comfort her as much as I could.
Her collar dug into my shoulder, but I dealt with the slight pinch on my skin. My best friend was falling apart, and I needed to let her have her moment. She had to rest and prepare for the trek out of here in a few hours.
Once Becca was utterly spent, I released her from my grip and glanced at the litter strewn around us. There were empty cans scattered along the floor, and open food wrappers everywhere.
It was fucking disgusting in here, and the smell was making the hairs in my nose curl. I tilted forward and rolled the driver's side window down to let some fresh air circulate.
Becca lay on the seat and dozed. I sat beside her and remained silent while she fell asleep. I lifted the robe over the top of her thigh and checked out the dark purple bruise Juan left behind. It was about the size of a silver dollar and had a red edge.
The injury won’t kill her, and the skin isn’t broken, so I'm not worried about it becoming infected. It just looks ugly and painful. I pulled the robe back down, covering the nasty mark. There was a slight chill coming through the cracked window, but we'd have to deal with it.
There were no blankets anywhere in this filth.
I reached out to see if there was a way to remove the metal from her neck.
I pulled and jiggled it, but the thing was secured tightly.
There was no way to remove either of the collars.
It would suck if they had trackers in them, but there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.
Dwelling on it wouldn't change a thing, so I shoved the thought aside. I walked to the back of the van to see if there was anything we could take with us on our journey.
After trudging through a heaping pile of trash, I reached the far end of the truck, where a large red cooler sat against the old, tattered seat.
I didn't want to get my hopes up. It could be empty, and I would most likely lose my will to live, so I prepared myself for the worst possible outcome.
I lifted the lid and took a peek. Melted ice cubes lined the inside, along with a few bottles of water, soda, and sandwich wraps still covered in plastic.
I grabbed a wrap and saw that some water had leaked inside.
I opened it and pulled the sandwich out.
The ends were a little soggy, but the meat inside appeared to be okay.
I ran the food under my nose, smelling it to make sure it wasn't bad. It seemed fine except for the mushy parts. Under normal circumstances, I would have thrown this shit out, but I was starving, and beggars can't be choosy.
I tore the slimy pieces off, prayed that the food wasn't poisoned, and ate the damn thing.
Swallowing it was a little tricky, but I managed. I cracked open a bottle of warm water and forced the nasty stuff down.
Once my belly was full, I pulled a sandwich out for Beck. I removed the soggy ends, hoping she wouldn't notice. I didn't want to wake her, but she needed something to eat for the daunting task ahead of us.
Grabbing a bottle of water, I walked to where she was sleeping. I gently shook her awake. She looked around the van, confused for a second.
I shoved the wrap towards her.
"Beck, look. I found some food. Sit up and eat, then you can go back to sleep."
She sat up slowly, yawning.
Her voice was a little groggy.
"Where did you find this?"
I pointed to the back of the van.
"There's a huge cooler over there with another wrap and a couple of drinks left in it. Eat this so you can keep up your strength."
She wrinkled her nose at the sight of the disgusting food.
"Are you sure this shit is okay to eat, Kit?"
I shrugged, pushing it toward her mouth again.
"I ate one, and I am still alive. It wasn't bad. What other options do you have? You need to eat, so open up, buttercup."
She put the food in her mouth and nibbled cautiously. Once she got past the first bite, she shoved it in quickly. Like me, she was starving. Becca chewed like a cow when she ate, which usually annoys me.
Not this time, though. I welcomed her lip-smacking sounds with open arms. I loved this girl like a sister. We have known one another since we were ten years old. This girl was always my rock when I had to deal with my shitty mother. She was an only child raised by a single mom.
She never knew her father. Her mother passed away from cancer two years ago, when Becca was only twenty-one years old.
She inherited the house and remained in her childhood home.
She was alone, and so was I. We only had each other.
She was the one person I could always count on.
Now, I would be her strength until we got back home.
When she finished eating, we huddled on the seat to keep warm and finally fell asleep.