by Bruno Miller
“Just shut up!” the same voice shot back.
Ben sighed. He wasn’t getting anywhere. He wanted information about their captors—like how many there were, for starters—but this was going nowhere fast. Ben glanced at Sandy and shook his head.
“They must be treating these people really bad to make them act like that. You can’t blame them,” Sandy said. She must have seen the frustration in his eyes. And she was right; he couldn’t fault them for keeping quiet, but it didn’t help his cause any. He needed to know what he was dealing with before he came up with a plan.
“When did you get here?” a different voice asked. It was softer, belonged to a woman, and was coming from the container right next to them.
Ben spun on his feet and headed right back to the front corner of the trailer. “Only been here a couple hours. How long have you been here?”
“Almost two weeks… I think.” The woman trailed off.
Ben was about to ask how many bad guys there were but stopped himself. Maybe if he showed a little compassion, he would be able to get more than just a few questions answered. But her voice was weak, and he wasn’t sure how long she would be willing to talk or how long they had until one of the guards came back.
“My name is Ben. I’m in here with my family. There are six of us.” He didn’t normally like giving away information unless he had to, but he needed to make a connection with this woman.
“You two are going to get us in trouble if you don’t knock it off,” the man in the far container barked. Ben sighed. If anyone was going to get them in trouble, it would be the guy telling them to shut up. He was making more noise than any of them.
“I’m Rita. My husband Carlos is with me, although his voice isn’t too good right now. I’m sorry…” Rita paused, and Ben could hear her drawing breath. “I’m sorry they got you.”
“How many of them are there?” Ben asked.
“Eight or nine men, maybe four or five women, and a couple younger kids, I think,” Rita answered in her lowest whisper yet.
“Where were you guys coming from before?” Ben lowered his voice to match hers and was careful to keep one eye on the trail that led from the camp to the containers. He wasn’t sure what would happen if they were caught talking, and he didn’t want to find out the hard way.
“They make us work their fields. Everybody works every day. They don’t care if you drop dead on the spot.” Rita paused again to catch her breath, and Ben waited anxiously for her to finish. “They’re horrible people. They’re killers. I’m so sorry,” she repeated through what sounded like crying.
“Did you see two dogs when you came through camp?” Ben wanted to change the subject and was genuinely concerned about the dogs after the yelps he’d heard, although now that he’d asked the question, he wasn’t sure if he wanted an answer.
“Yes, were those your dogs?”
“Yeah. Are they okay?” Ben had to know. He glanced back at the kids to make sure they were still sleeping. Sandy caught his gaze, and judging by her facial expression, Ben figured that she was as concerned as he was.
“They were still in the cages when we saw them, but…” Rita stopped. Ben listened, but there was no deep breath this time.
“But what?” he pushed.
“But they won’t be for long,” Rita answered.
“Why?” Ben tried to keep it to a whisper.
“We need to stop. They’re going to be back soon.”
“Rita, tell me!” The words came out louder than he meant, and he immediately crouched down by the slot in the door to see if anyone had heard him. He watched the trail for a few more moments before turning back to the other container, but before he could say anything, Sandy put her hand on his shoulder.
She shook her head, and as reality sank in, he knew she was right. It made no difference what they planned on doing with the dogs because they were going to get out of here before then. They had to.
Chapter Three
Rita was right about them not having much time before the guards came back. Not more than fifteen minutes had passed since she’d answered some of Ben’s questions about their captors. It looked like the same two who’d escorted the other prisoners to their containers earlier. Both were armed, but the second guard was pushing a wheelbarrow. As they approached, Ben could see bottles of water and a large metal pot inside.
“Everybody to the back of the container,” one of the guards yelled.
“Do it now,” the other guard added. He was quite a bit younger than his counterpart. Ben watched him push the wheelbarrow and recognized him as the one who’d struck Joel at the roadblock. His type was the worst kind: drunk on power. People like him looked for trouble and welcomed the chance to prove they were in charge. Ben had seen it plenty of times before, and he made a note to stay off this guy’s radar—for now, at least.
Ben and Sandy roused the kids, who were still sleeping, and corralled them quietly to the back of the container. Ben was thankful for the darkness and shadows, and he felt like he could hide the girls and the younger kids somewhat behind him and Joel. Of course, the guards knew they were there, but keeping the girls out of sight couldn’t hurt. The looks the younger guard had given Allie didn’t go unnoticed by Ben.
He slid Allie’s knife around his waistband and to the small of his back. This time, he left enough sticking out that he could grab it and use it quickly if he needed to. It wasn’t his intention to make a move yet. He didn’t even have a plan, but he wasn’t going to let them remove anyone from the container, least of all the girls. If he had to make a stand here and now to prevent anything from happening to them, so be it.
The two guards took food and water to the other prisoners first, and that was fine with Ben. He could see a little bit of what was going on through a small rust hole in the side of the wall. The younger guy did the serving while the older guard kept his AR trained on the container and the people inside. He was smart about it, unfortunately, and stood a few yards back when the younger guy opened the door to serve the food. Ben wondered why they risked it at all and didn’t use the slot in the door, but he wouldn’t complain about a gift like that. If only there was a way to bring the other guy in closer.
Right now, though, all Ben really wanted was for them to leave the food and go away. He was thirsty and hungry, and he knew the others were as well. To the kids’ credit, there was not a single complaint out of any of them.
The door to the container swung open quickly, and the first thing Ben saw was the business end of an AR-15. The older guard looked them up and down before backing out and making way for the younger guy to bring in the food and water.
“Make sure you stay put now. He will shoot you if you all try anything.” This dirtball enjoyed saying that; Ben could tell by the crooked smile on his face. But he also believed him and, without thinking, spread his arms across everyone to create a barrier, all while taking a small step back. He kept eye contact with the guard but said nothing.
He struggled to control the anger building up inside, as well as the desire to lunge at the guard with the knife. Ben knew his attack would be short-lived and he’d be shot a second later. If it wasn’t for his kids, a small part of him could justify that risk if it meant ridding the world of this cretin. The younger guard continued to place the water bottles on the floor, followed by a stack of plates and a handful of forks. Finally, he filled a small plastic bowl with what looked like slop from the big pot.
The guard flashed his yellow-toothed grin at them. “Enjoy.”
Ben wasn’t sure if the foul odor was coming from the steaming bowl of food or from the man, but being this close to the guy turned his stomach. The guard backed his way out of the container, leering at Allie and doing his best to be deliberate about it. Ben felt Joel push against his arm slightly, but he held fast. Now wasn’t the time.
The door slammed shut, and Ben heard the chains rattle as the guards locked it. He put his arms down, and everyone moved out of the back corner, toward the
food and water.
“Hang on.” Ben picked up a water bottle and held it up to a ray of light that shone in through one of the holes. The water was surprisingly clean and cold. Ben glanced down at the sorry excuse of a meal the guards had left them. At least the water looked good. No doubt this was part of the plan. Keep them strong enough to work but too weak to fight.
All the more reason to make a move as soon as they could rather than wait. A day or two of this and they would be too weak to make a stand. Not that Ben wanted to wait that long, but as far as he was concerned, this was confirmation that they needed to act now.
“Go ahead. It’s not great, but we need to hydrate.” Ben hoped he wasn’t dooming them all to a bout of diarrhea or some type of waterborne illness, but the other option was dehydration. He’d take being sick to his stomach somewhere down the road in a day or two over being stuck here.
He was encouraged to see the guard with the gun enter the container first, even if he had just put one foot up on the edge of the door. It was close enough. He’d also foolishly pushed the barrel of the gun inside the container, well past the opening, as he taunted them with it. That was a mistake on the guard’s part, and Ben hoped he did it again. He also paid attention to how the guards only opened one of the shipping container’s double doors, leaving a blind spot as they entered. A few other faults in their routine could be used against them as well, but in Ben’s opinion, the first two provided the best probability for success.
These little flaws in how they operated around here didn’t mean much on their own, but together, they created some opportunities that Ben and the others could exploit. The pieces started coming together in his head.
For this to work, though, Joel or one of the others would have to hide behind the other door when the guards came back. If Ben wasn’t standing in front of the group when that door swung open, the guards would know immediately that something was going on. But they might not notice if Joel was missing. The younger guard seemed to focus on Allie, and as much as he hated that, it could play to their favor. The older guy seemed content to give Ben the stink eye in an attempt to exert his temporary dominance.
They would only need a few seconds to make their move. And just like that, Ben knew they needed to be ready to put this plan into action the next time the guards came back, whenever that was. Maybe he could pry a little more information out of Rita. He’d keep the questions generic and try not to get too personal.
He wasn’t sure what the other prisoners here had been through, but he knew it wasn’t good. And by the sound of Rita’s voice, he assumed they were just about at their limit, mentally and physically.
“Rita… Rita.” Ben spoke as loudly as he dared. Not only was he worried about being heard by one of the guards, but he was leery about the lone guy in the far container.
“Yes.” Her voice cracked. Ben felt sorry for bothering her, but there was no time for that.
“Will they come back tonight?” he whispered.
His biggest worry was that the guy who kept telling them to be quiet would give them away to the guards if he learned that Ben was going to try something. Under pressure, some people would do anything to gain favor with their captors, even if it meant turning on a fellow hostage. And for that matter, he decided to keep his ideas about escaping a secret from Rita and her husband Carlos as well. Not so much because he didn’t trust them but because he was afraid the other guy might hear.
“They might, but if they do, it won’t be for anything good. Trust me, you don’t want them coming around later anyway.” Ben heard Rita’s labored breathing.
“Why do you say that?” He noticed that Rita’s voice had taken on an ominous tone.
“Because they get out of their minds at night on the moonshine they’re making. They’re running a still over on the far side of camp.” Rita’s fingers poked through the drilled holes in her and her husband’s container as she pulled herself closer to the wall and paused to catch her breath again. “You’ll see tomorrow. I’m sure they’ll put you to work with the rest of us, tending the crops they grow to make their hooch. You might even get to see the still if you get lucky enough to haul water to it.” Her fingers disappeared, and for the first time since they started talking, Ben caught a glimpse of her face as she adjusted herself to lean against the wall of her container. She brought her mouth and nose close to the drilled holes and inhaled deeply.
“Thank you for talking to me.” Ben was grateful for the information and appreciated Rita’s willingness to risk her safety and share what she knew with them. Ben had no intention of working their fields or carrying water to their still. By this time tomorrow, they would be well on their way back to Colorado. He wasn’t sure exactly how yet, but he was determined to make that happen any way he could.
Chapter Four
As the late afternoon dragged into early evening, the occasional voice or bout of laughter came from inside the camp. The kids were all awake now, but no one was talking much. Ben had filled them in on his plan to get out of here, and everyone was ready to play their part. They just needed the right opportunity.
Of course, they had no way of knowing when that opportunity would come. Worst-case scenario, they would be stuck in here until morning. Ben hoped one of the guards would come back to check on them before then, and he wondered if there was a way to make that happen.
He stayed close to the front of the container, always sure to keep one eye on the trail the guards used. If the younger guard came back, he was going to use Allie to lure him into their trap, if possible. He hated the idea of using her like that, but if it provided them with a means of escape, it would be well worth it. Besides, Ben had no intention of actually letting the guard get anywhere close to her.
Joel wasn’t crazy about the idea, but then again, Ben didn’t expect him to be. Joel knew as well as the rest of them that it was their best chance, and he finally agreed, not that he had much of a choice. Now they just needed the guards to come back around. Unfortunately, it sounded like all hands were on deck for the bonfire and drinking extravaganza going on a couple hundred yards away.
Ben couldn’t see very much from their container, but he could make out the glow of a fire rising above the other containers that made up the main camp. The talking turned to shouting, and the occasional laughter was replaced with outbursts of arguing and loud whooping.
There was no doubt that the lot of them were getting drunk, and Ben couldn’t have been more pleased. Maybe the best thing to do was wait this out. As long as all of them didn’t drink to the point of passing out. They needed at least one of the guards sober enough to open the container, though with all the noise, Ben wasn’t sure he could get the guards’ attention right now even if he wanted to.
Of course, there was the chance of the moonshine working against them if one of the gang drank himself into a bad mood and decided to take matters into his own hands with Ben or the others. In a group like this, there was always one who felt like he had something to prove, and this bunch was no exception, based on some of the looks Ben had noticed earlier. The old man seemed pretty well in control of his flunkies, but adding moonshine to the mix meant all bets were off.
Ben, Sandy, and the kids sat and listened as the party raged on. Ben was glad that there were no noises from either of the dogs and told himself it was because Gunner and Sam were being left alone and forgotten about right now, much like they were. That was what he hoped, at least. He hadn’t heard any more from Rita or the guy by himself in the far container. Not that he expected to, but he was hoping Rita would think of something else valuable to share with them. Judging by the way they looked when they were first marched back to their cells, Ben guessed they were probably sleeping now.
We can’t end up like that. Ben glanced around the container, pausing briefly at each of his kids. When he came to Emma, she had her face pressed up against the wall in an awkward position. The sight alone made his back hurt. He surveyed the trail leading back to the camp once mor
e before scooting over on the floor next to her.
“What are you looking at?” he asked quietly.
“Fireflies,” she whispered back.
Ben moved to one of the other holes nearby and peeked outside. “Oh, yeah. I hadn’t even noticed.” Why would he? They were fighting for their survival right now. The only thing on his mind since they were captured was how they were going to get out of this.
“There’s a lot of them, huh?” Emma added.
“Yeah.”
She sighed and then pulled away from the wall to look at her dad. “Are we going to be okay?”
Ben had anticipated the question. She might have been momentarily distracted by the fireflies, but it was impossible to forget about where they were.
“Yes. We’ll get out of this, I promise.” Ben made sure to make eye contact with his daughter. He was making a promise to her as much as he was making one to himself. And he meant every word of it. She nodded and returned her attention to the fireflies.
Ben wasn’t angry anymore, at least not in a way he struggled to control. What he felt now was something much more dangerous than anger: an overwhelming desire to exact revenge on the old man and his crew of thugs.
Revenge for putting his kids through this, for taking the dogs away, for confiscating their trucks along with all their gear, and for every other little transgression they had committed against Ben and the others. He wanted to put these people in their place so badly he could taste it, which made being trapped in this cage like an animal that much more frustrating.
Ben rubbed Emma’s back and kissed the top of her head before moving back into his position by the door. As he stared out the narrow opening and into the darkness, a strange sense of calm washed over him. In spite of their current situation, he was strangely optimistic that they really would be all right.
One of his biggest fears was that the kids would be scarred for life because of all they had been through, but seeing Emma like that made him realize they would come out of this okay. Changed in many ways, but overall okay. It was hard not to think of them as being younger than they were. Snapshots of camping trips and adventures with them when they were little flashed through his mind. Those were better days that Ben tried not to think of very often. Not because the memories weren’t pleasant, but because he was afraid of never seeing anything like it again in his lifetime.
