Chapter 33
The men's shoulders pushed against Kate’s as she sat on the truck’s bench seat. The cab of the vehicle was hardly spacious enough for three people. Four bodies crushed together made for cramped travel.
Kate’s nails dug into her palms. She focused on the buttons of the console, the blue and red lights illuminating the truck’s temperature controls. Determined not to let fear show on her face, Kate maintained an expressionless gaze.
“So, we’re just going to leave Alex behind?”
“Alex is capable. We’ll get the girl settled and come back for him. It was only one guy.”
Only one guy, Kate scoffed internally.
The truck tires hit gravel, and they seemed to be nearing their destination.
Kate could make out the outline of a building against the moonlit sky.
The driver put the truck in park and opened his door.
The overhead light cast a glow on the men's masked faces.
The one sitting beside her wore a ski mask, and despite spending a lifetime avoiding eye contact with people, Kate chanced a glimpse.
The attempt left her feeling foolish. Centered in the eye holes of the mask were hazel irises surrounding a standard pupil. She found no empathy. No evil. No humanity. No cruelty. Just colors and textures staring back at her.
The men walked Kate through the doors of a run-down warehouse and shoved her down on her knees. The air inside was stagnant and thick with humidity. A row of offices on one side of the building had been converted to cells with bars covering the windows and sturdy metal locks in place of doorknobs.
The men bantered for a while, discussing plans to retrieve Alex. Kate paid them little attention. She was afraid; she found herself yet again caught in the clutches of men she did not know or trust, and the fear was crippling.
One man, Luke, demonstrated that he was the apparent ringleader as he delivered orders to the others.
Men walked up and down the halls, opening doors and carrying supplies from one place to another.
Kate shifted on her knees, the concrete floor biting into her flesh.
No one seemed bothered by her predicament.
Kate was nothing more than a commodity, her life purely transactional.
After what seemed a lifetime, Luke picked her up by her bound hands, removed the ties, and directed her down a hallway. They entered a locker room complete with rows of showers.
“Wash up,” Luke ordered. Kate eyed the tiled room, the rusted shower heads.
“Go on, I’ll turn my head.” Luke gestured to one of the stalls, then stepped to the locker room entrance showing his back to her.
Kate stared at his figure. This man expected her to disrobe as though it were nothing. He stood rigid and expectant, then let out an indignant sigh. Kate was not undressing or stepping into the shower. She was a statue, a frozen block of fear affixed to the floor.
Luke turned and started toward Kate, ripping a sidearm from the holster around his waist.
“I’m not here to touch you or hurt you or whatever sick thoughts are going through your head,” Luke said, the end of his gun now pressed to Kate’s head. “Get in the fucking shower and wash all of this grime off. You’re filthy.”
“Okay,” Kate relented. “I’ll do it. Just please, turn back around.”
Luke glared at her a moment longer before taking up his previous position.
Kate let her clothes drop to the floor, stepped onto the chilled shower tiles, and turned on the faucet.
The water sputtered and then progressed into a powerful stream, ice raking Kate’s skin.
She wiped dirt and sweat from her body until her hygiene was satisfactory.
The faucet creaked as she cut the cold water off. A towel hung on a rack nearby, and Kate was quick to wrap it around her soaked body blotched with goosebumps.
“I’m finished,” Kate announced.
From a nearby shelf, Luke sorted through folded clothes until he settled on dark gray sweats and a plain white shirt. He handed them to her and turned once more as she donned the outfit.
“Done,” Kate said again.
Luke led her down the hall and directed her to one of the makeshift cells. Everything in her body seized up as Kate prepared herself to be caged behind bars for the second time in her life.
Yellowed plaster walls enclosed her, and the smell of years-old sweat trickled into her nostrils.
The room was devoid of anything other than metal shackles welded into the floor.
Kate hugged herself as the chill of the room crept across her skin—a stark contrast from the sticky heat of the main area.
“Why am I here?” Kate uttered as Luke shackled her feet.
“There’s a market for everything. Even these days.”