Chapter 33 Jordan
JORDAN
My eyes open to darkness.
The metal beneath me is cold again and my mouth tastes like copper and something chemical. My head throbs with a pain so intense I think my skull might split open.
How long have I been here?
I blink, trying to focus. The shipping container comes into view slowly. Bodies sprawled across the floor. Some moving. Some not.
I try to count. Three times? Four? I told myself I'd keep track. That I wouldn't forget. But everything bleeds together now, dreams and reality mixing until I can't tell which is which.
I look at my arm and try to count the injection marks, but I can't see well. I shift and look to my left and the area is empty.
Lindsey. Where's Lindsey?
I sit up too fast and the container spins. Bile rises in my throat but I swallow it down and scan the dim space.
She's not beside me.
My heart rate spikes as panic comes rushing in.
"Lindsey?" My voice comes out hoarse.
I push myself to my feet, stumbling as my legs threaten to give out. The women around me don't react. Some are humming. Others stare at nothing with vacant eyes.
"Lindsey!"
I step forward and something sharp pokes the bottom of my foot.
"Fuck."
I lift my foot and see a little blood on my sole. I run my hand along the floor and find it. I hold it up. It's an empty vial. It's not glass, too sturdy for that and not quite plastic either. Whatever it is, it's sharp where it snapped in half.
I grip it tight and tap my thumb over it.
It could do something, so I decide to hold onto it.
"Lindsey," I say, continuing my search, "where are you?"
I move through the container, stepping over girls and discarded items. My heart pounds harder with each empty face I pass.
She has to be here. She has to be.
A girl in the corner looks up at me and smiles. "Maybe they took her to get cleaned up. She's going to look so pretty."
Ice floods my veins. "What? Where did they take her?"
"To get ready for the party." The girl giggles and curls into a ball. "We're all going to the party."
I don't know if there's any truth to her words or if the drug is making her crazy. When I open my mouth to press her further, the container doors fly open.
Light floods in and I stumble backward.
Men pour through the opening. More than usual. Some wearing ski masks. All carrying weapons.
They spread out immediately, grabbing women by their arms and hair, dragging them toward the light.
A woman near me screams and thrashes but her movements are sluggish from the drug. A man backhands her and she goes limp.
I back against the container wall, the broken vial in my hand.
A tall guard approaches me and reaches for my arm.
I twist and drive the vial into his neck. I don't know if it does anything, but he yells and releases me.
I run.
The container doors are right there. If I can just get out, maybe I can flee.
I get past the opening and for a second I think I might make it out, and then fingers tangle in my hair and yank.
My head snaps back and pain explodes across my scalp. My feet leave the ground for a split second before I crash to the floor.
The man I stabbed stands over me, his face twisted in rage. He's shouting in a language they all speak, but I don't understand.
He grabs my hair again and shakes my head violently as his fist connects with my cheekbone.
I taste blood almost immediately and tears swell in my eyes.
He raises his fist again and something slams into him from the side.
Lindsey.
She's on him like a feral animal, screaming and clawing at his face with her nails. Her hair is wild, her clothes torn, but her eyes burn with a clarity I haven't seen since before the drugs.
"GET OFF HER! GET OFF HER YOU FUCKING BASTARD!"
The man releases my hair and spins, throwing Lindsey off him. She hits the ground hard, her head bouncing against a pole.
He pulls a gun from his waistband and aims it at her chest.
"NO!" I say, scrambling to my feet. "Please don't."
Another man shouts something and everyone stops.
The man with the gun hesitates, his finger hovering on the trigger.
Then he lowers his weapon with a growl of frustration and storms off, shoving past the other guards.
I crawl to Lindsey. She's breathing hard and has a little cut on her head.
"Jordan." Her voice cracks. "Jordan, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
"It's okay. It's okay, I've got you."
Two men appear beside us. They grab our arms and haul us to our feet.
"Walk," one says in heavily accented English.
We stumble forward, surrounded by guards on all sides. Other women are being herded the same way, a procession of the drugged and broken.
We exit what looks like a large warehouse and step outside. It's nighttime.
I look around and see a dock in front of us. The smell of salt water fills the air.
They push us down a narrow walkway. The wood creaks beneath our feet. Water splashes around us.
At the end of the dock, tubes stick out of the water. Four of them. Maybe five. Metal hatches open at the top like gaping mouths.
"What are those?" Lindsey whispers.
I don't answer because I don't know.
They look like steel coffins bobbing in the black water. If we get in there, we're never coming back.
Ahead of us, women are climbing down into the tubes one by one. They disappear into the openings without protest.
In the distance, two large boats bob on the horizon. Too far to make out details but close enough to understand where this is going.
A guard shoves me forward and yells to all of us, "Jump in water, we shoot you. Get in hatch."
Lindsey's hand finds mine. Her fingers cold and trembling.
We walk together, her crying softly beside me.
I watch one girl pause at the edge, looking down before a guard pushes her and she drops from view.
My mind races. We're being shipped like cargo, moved to God knows where.
I'm scared but I need to be strong for Lindsey.
I grip her hand tighter.
"We have to run," I whisper.
"They'll shoot us."
"If we get in there, we're dead anyway."
She shakes her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I can't. Jordan, I can't."
We're ten feet from the first tube now and slowly getting closer.
My muscles tense. I scan for an opening, a moment where the guards aren't watching, but there are too many of them and they're too close.
I stop walking.
A guard behind me shoves his palm into my back. "Move."
I don't.
"I said move!" He pushes harder and I stumble forward, catching myself before I fall.
Lindsey is sobbing now, her whole body shaking.
The guard at the hatch looks at us and points. "You. Down."
I open my mouth to say something, to scream, to fight, to do anything, and everyone jumps.
Gunfire erupts.
The sound is loud. Rapid cracks that split the air and make people start yelling.
The guard in front of me jerks back and falls down, blood blooming across his chest.
More gunfire and Lindsey and I duck to the ground.
The guards scatter, some returning fire while others keep women from running.
I look around, searching for the source. It's too dark and all I see are figures running and moving, pouring out from all directions. They are shooting the people who took us.
"Move," one of the guards still by us commands, but I don't get up.
I'm too busy hoping for one simple thing.
Please, please, please, be Matei.