Chapter 26 #2
There’s an enormous tractor trailer truck backing into the parking lot as we pull up. A whooshing in my head is so loud that I begin hearing voices, and it takes me a minute to realize that it’s not my imagination. I am hearing voices, but they’re coming from the earpiece I’m wearing.
The back of the truck I’m in opens, and the other man I’m sitting in the bed with climbs out.
We’re silent as we open the front door. As the operation begins, I try to only focus on the animals.
They’re making all kinds of noise, likely reacting to the strangers overtaking the shelter as well as whatever their animal senses are telling them about this situation.
We begin with the dogs, getting them loaded without issues. I don’t hear or see anything from the back of the shelter. I don’t hear anything from my earpiece. Just as we’re beginning on the cats, the terrified scream of a child makes me spin around.
Just then, a voice in my ear says, “Fade, there’s a runner heading your way. Little girl. Do you see her?”
I spin around and look wildly. At first, I don’t see the girl. I do see someone from the back pursuing her, which gives me a direction to focus.
“I see her,” I state, though I remember the voice can’t hear me.
“Don’t let her get into the street. Catch her, please. Be mindful that she’s terrified.”
Running as fast as her little legs can carry her without shoes, she doesn’t see me coming. When she finally does, she screams and nearly falls on her face. I scoop her up and wrap her in my arms as she fights to get away.
“Shh,” I murmur. “It’s okay now. You’re safe. No one will ever hurt you again. I promise. Those bad men are going to be punished. You’re safe now.”
She doesn’t stop shaking. She doesn’t stop crying. But miraculously, she stops trying to fight her way from my hold.
“There you go. We’re going to get you somewhere safe. Is that okay?”
She nods, body trembling. I stay right where I am, unsure what to do now. Thankfully, the voice in my ear speaks with instructions.
“Nice, Fade. Can you walk her to the back of the building, please? Lillian is on her way toward you.”
“There’s a nice lady here, and she’s going to bring you somewhere safe. No more bad men. Okay?”
She nods again, and my heart squeezes. This is a little girl who still finds the strength to trust a strange man. I hug her a little tighter, fighting to keep my tears in.
The woman—Lillian, I presume—meets me a dozen feet from the end of the building. I turn the girl in my arms around to look at her, and Lillian offers to take her. “This is Lillian. She’s a nice lady. She won’t let anyone hurt you.”
I’m a little startled when her arms tighten on me as she shakes her head.
Lillian drops her proffered hands. “It’s okay, sweetie. You don’t have to come to me. Would you like Fade to bring you to the car so we can take you away from this bad place?”
She’s indecisive. I imagine getting into cars or trucks or any vehicle is triggering at this point. It’s all led to bad things. Pain. Fear.
“Listen,” I whisper. “I promise you, no one will hurt you again. No one will even touch you without you telling them they can. That means no taking your hand or patting your shoulder or touching your hair. If you tell someone no, they won’t touch you. Okay?”
There’s still hesitation before she answers with a slow yes.
“Do you want to walk? You don’t have shoes on; are your feet hurt?”
She nods again, but I’m not sure which question she’s answering. Since her grip on me remains tight, I think she’s answering the last.
“Let’s go this way,” Lillian says. “We’ll show you the others that we’re going to bring somewhere safe. Is that okay, sweetie?”
She nods again, and I follow Lillian who continues to tell her exactly what we’re seeing.
The terrified little kids being taken out of the building, clinging to the women with strength they shouldn’t possess in their little bodies.
There’s a man on the ground that has the girl in my arms reacting again, so I turn her away from him, tucking her face into the other side of my neck.
“It’s okay now. He’s going to be punished. He’ll never hurt you or anyone ever again.”
She doesn’t let me go, not even when we get to the van where the other kids are buckled in.
She looks into the van, and it takes her a long time to decide that she wants to join the others.
In my ear, the voice tells everyone that everything with the kids needs to be their choice going forward.
If they want to stay in the van, then they stay in the van.
If they don’t want someone to hold their hand, then no one touches them.
As I back away, Lillian grips my arm. “You did a good thing. You handled that very well.”
The girl is still watching me, the fear getting brighter in her eyes.
“How did the person in my ear hear what I told her?” I ask.
“Because my camera has audio,” she answers. “She’s safe now.”
“She’s scared.”
“She is. They all are.”
I look at the other faces, and there’s barely controlled fear there. “They’re so strong and brave,” I say, hearing the hitch in my own voice. “After all that, I don’t know that I would have trusted someone when they told me I was safe.”
Lillian shakes her head. “I agree.”
Before I can turn away, the little girl I’d been carrying begins fighting against her seatbelt. Her panic makes the other kids panic, and the back of the van becomes filled with kids desperately trying to get away as they cry and scream.
The girl reaches for me, so I climb into the back of the van and kneel on the floor in front of her. She grips my hand with both of hers, and slowly, her cries turn into breathless sniffles. It takes a long time for the rest of the kids to quiet.
“Looks like you’re riding here,” Greylyn says from behind me. She sticks her head into the van. “Is that okay? Can Fade keep you safe when we bring you to a place where no one will ever hurt you again?”
The girl nods, her grip on my hand feeling like a vise. The other kids aren’t as sure, but I realize that they’re responding to each other’s fear and trust, taking cues on how they feel. So they allow my presence.
As the van moves down the road and away from the shelter, my thoughts from earlier echo in my head.
I realize I was right, especially as the lights from the street briefly illuminate bruises on their faces and other exposed skin.
One has dried blood on their scalp. This experience is going to give me nightmares.
I look away, unable to see them like that. I was definitely right. I’ll never unsee this.