Chapter 12 #3
But now, Bree couldn’t stop the spike of adrenaline from coursing through her body. She wrapped her hand tighter around her makeshift weapon. They had to be ready for anything.
“Look, I’ve been thinking. We can’t do anything from inside these cages,” Fiona said quickly. “We have to get out somehow. If someone does come for us, we have to do whatever it takes to convince them to let us out.”
Bree nodded. She agreed.
“Fake an illness?” Julie asked.
“Do we think they’d care?” Fiona countered.
“Hmm, probably not. But maybe? I mean, I’m guessing they want us well enough to…you know,” Julie said quietly.
Bree didn’t want to think about you know, but she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t think of any scenario where their captors would open all three of their cages. “Really, only one of us needs to escape. That person can free the other two.”
“I don’t know. The padlocks on these cages aren’t going to be easy to get open, especially if there’s more than one asshole who comes for us.
Even if they’re carrying the keys to the locks, we have to find them, figure out which goes to which lock, then unlock the damn things,” Julie said pessimistically.
“I’ll do it,” Bree told the others.
“Do what?” Fiona asked.
“Get them to open my cage.”
“How?” Julie asked.
Bree had no idea. She just knew it was her responsibility to get her friends out of this. She still felt as if it was her fault they were here in the first place. If she’d gone east, away from Riverton and Smiley, Julie and Fiona wouldn’t be locked in cages inside this horrible truck.
All three women held their breaths as the truck slowed even further.
The floor rumbled under them as it crept along.
Bree prayed this was different from other times when they’d slowed down.
She’d lost track of how often that had happened.
It was impossible to gauge time in this truck.
She didn’t know how long they were inside before waking up in the cages.
Since then, it felt like they’d been trapped for days, but she knew it was actually just a matter of hours.
In any case, she realized it couldn’t have been too long, because without water at least, they wouldn’t be in as good of shape as they were.
Still, they were all beginning to feel the effects of lack of sustenance.
And Bree had gotten over the humiliation of smelling like pee and sitting in her own waste.
All around them was nothing but chicken shit.
It wasn’t as if she could smell herself through all that stink, although if she could, she’d probably be horrified.
She had the thought that maybe her condition would make their captors keep their distance. Being dirty and disgusting might be the best thing for them right now.
The truck came to a jerking halt, making Bree fall forward and knock her head against the bars of the cage once more.
“Ow!” Fiona complained. “Asshole needs to learn how to drive.”
The chickens around them obviously agreed, because they all began to cluck in agitation.
Several minutes went by, and Bree held her breath. She still had no plan. If someone came for them, she’d have to think of something. Fast.
Then a loud clanking noise sounded from the rear of the truck, making the chickens flap their wings in the too-crowded cages and the noise level in the enclosed space once more increase to a painful level.
The light that suddenly shone through the open door at the other end of the truck almost hurt Bree’s eyes.
It was artificial, coming from streetlights of some sort, shining dimly in the darkness beyond the open door.
Which was probably good, because after being in the gloomy truck with only red light for so long, the three of them would probably be blinded if they saw sunlight right now.
As it was, Bree had to blink rapidly to try to get her eyes to adjust. She saw a blurry form climb into the back and walk between the stacked chicken cages.
He had a respirator over his nose and mouth so he could breathe.
Asshole. Of course he had a respirator, but he didn’t give a shit if she, Julie, or Fiona could breathe.
“Time to go,” he announced, his voice muffled from behind the mask.
Bree took stock of the man. He wasn’t big. Maybe around Fiona’s height. And he was skinny, not hugely muscular. It was obvious he didn’t consider any of them a threat, which she hoped would be his downfall.
More importantly, her eyes homed in on the keys in his hand. She needed to get a hold of those somehow. Get them to Fiona and Julie, who could then open the locks holding them captive in their cages. But how?
Just as she opened her mouth to pretend she was having cramps or some other womanly affliction—guys always seemed to get flustered when confronted with talk of periods or cramps—the man leaned down to her cage and grabbed the lock.
He was letting her out? Just like that? Without her having to make a scene?
Glancing over at Julie and Fiona, she saw their eyes were huge and they looked both confused and thrilled at the same time.
This was it. Her chance. It might be the only one they had.
“You first,” the man told her. “Boss has special plans for you. The others are being shipped off to Russia and North Korea. Their buyers have already arranged for transportation. But you’re going to his compound in Ecuador.
A personal slave for his employees, he’s decided…
to use whenever and however they want. Free of charge.
Kind of perk for their hard work.” He chuckled.
“They’ll enjoy it—but I’m guessing you won’t.
That doesn’t matter though, does it? You belong to the boss.
You’re his to do as he pleases. The sooner you come to terms with that, the better.
You want food? Water? A place to shit and piss that isn’t your own bed?
You better behave. The more you do what he wants, the better your life will be. ”
“I’ll do anything!” Bree whined, trying to sound cowed and meek. “I’m so thirsty! Do you have any water?”
“What are you going to give me if I give you water?” the man asked, straightening and grabbing his crotch suggestively. “Maybe I should have you suck me off before I bring you to the boss.”
Bree wanted to gag. Instead, she forced herself to keep her eyes downward and sit with her shoulders slumped submissively.
Her fingers clutched the knife harder as she waited for him to open the cage door.
She could hear her heart beating hard in her chest. The thump thump thump a loud reminder that she was alive.
And that it was up to her to help Fiona and Julie.
“Nothing to say to that? Not a yes, sir? Please, sir?” the man asked. “Guess you aren’t getting that water then. You’ll learn. Boss is big on respect. As long as you do as he says, you’ll live. If not…” He shrugged.
He turned the key in the lock, and even over the clucking of the chickens, Bree heard it snick open. Licking her lips, she waited.
The man swung the door open and reached for her.
Bree kept her muscles loose as the man grabbed her upper arm and dragged her out of her cage.
It hurt to stand, and for a moment she was afraid her legs wouldn’t hold her upright.
She didn’t have to fake the unstable wobble before she locked her knees.
The guy swept his gaze down her body, and it was all Bree could do not to move to shield herself from his leer. The pastel slip she was wearing didn’t hide anything. It was sheer, and she could feel her nipples tighten against the cold air coming in from behind the man.
Without a word, he brought his free hand up, the one not holding her arm—and the keys—and grabbed one of her breasts. Fondling her as if he had every right in the world.
Fuck this.
Fuck him.
She moved without thought. Swinging the plastic knife and stabbing him in the neck as hard as she could.
His eyes widened almost comically as he instantly let go of her arm, clutching his neck with his hands.
Bree brought her knee up next, hitting him in the crotch. He reacted like any male in the same situation would—he dropped to his knees. Hard, as he groaned loudly.
The keys fell to the floor of the truck. Bree snatched them up, turning and tossing them toward Fiona’s cage in one fluid movement.
Then without hesitation, she swung the knife again, thrusting it once more into the man’s neck.
She guessed that was the most vulnerable part of his body right now, figuring the knife wouldn’t be able to penetrate his clothes into his chest, his heart.
She needed to do her best to incapacitate him—if she was lucky, kill him.
But at the very least, do as much damage to his throat as possible, so he couldn’t call for help.
How many times she stabbed the man, Bree had no idea.
But she felt his blood on her fingers. On her face.
Stabbing someone was a messy business. She’d kind of gone into a trance while taking out her frustration, terror, and fury on this asshole who’d taunted the three of them with what was in store for each woman.
No way were Julie and Fiona being shipped off to North Korea and Russia. Not if she could help it!
“You sampling the goods in there?” a voice called out from the back of the truck, snapping Bree out of her daze.
She was breathing hard, as if she’d just run for miles. And her legs felt like jelly.
A touch on her arm had her spinning around violently, knife at the ready.
“It’s just me!” Fiona told her, taking a step backward with her hands up.
“Shit, sorry,” Bree said, lowering the knife.
Then it hit her. Fiona was out. And Julie too. They stood there, looking bedraggled and pathetic, but they were free.
Well…not free yet.
“Carlos?”
Shit. They still had to get past whoever was waiting outside the truck. “I’m going to distract them, you two slip out while I lead them away,” Bree said.
“No,” Fiona said with a firm shake of her head. “We stick together.”