by Coulton, JC
We drive for about twenty minutes, although I’m not sure about time anymore. I find myself nodding off sometimes, and then waking up feeling cold. I don’t have enough clothes on for the inside of a van. I’m dreading what it’s going to be like standing in the street. Finally, the van pulls in somewhere and comes to a stop. My stomach lurches when the back door is pulled open by one of Neon’s guys. This is one I don’t recognize. He has red weightlifting gloves and a grey mask on. It seems even more disorienting after only seeing the other guys dressed in black. I wince at his roughness when he pulls me out, before the other new girl. The rest of the ladies hop out behind us.
The cold air hits me like a brick. I blink and shiver, looking around the dark corners to get my bearings. The other girls walk toward a steel door. I recognize the brownstone façade of the building. It’s the same place I found April twice, except we’re in the back alleyway. We trudge up the stairs and through the back of the old house. There are empty rooms on either side, with crusty old mattresses slumped on the floor of each. The horror of what’s about to happen comes into clear focus. This is where the girls take the johns.
Before I know it, I’m being herded like cattle into the front room. We all stand around looking at the floor. A tired looking girl tells us what we have to do. She’s wearing a shoelace bustier top and a micro mini skirt. The girl is chewing gum like a trooper.
“Okay girls. This is not the busiest night but the men are out there. Some of them are rough so keep your eyes open. Security is on all night tonight, and we have two new girls. Everybody, this is Sky and Jasmine.”
Four overly made up faces stare over at me and the other girl. Apparently my new name is Sky. I couldn’t think of anything more trashy and I don’t bother to argue. It feels like there’s no point. Not now.
“You new girls need to watch out for cops. Don’t snag the regulars. They’re ours. Don’t you be talking any shit about Neon either. She’s got spies. And don’t give any discounts.”
The other new girl has perked up a little since the trip out. “How much do we charge?”
“Eighty for the works, sixty for a blow job, and forty for a hand job. You come from every job to the security van and hand over the cash. They’ll check your purse so don’t bother trying to hide any of it.”
Just then, the guy with the grey mask comes back in with a shaving bag. He says nothing. He sets it down on the table and gestures to me. I walk over and stand obediently, knowing what’s in store as he pulls a preloaded needle from the bag and uncaps it. He doesn’t bother slapping the veins in my arms. He just tells me turn around and bend over.
I want to say no. More than anything I want to refuse but I know it’s hopeless so I just turn and bend over in front of him. I have to expose myself in the most humiliating way as he injects into the back of my knee.
“Gotta keep you looking good for the johns, don’t we?” His voice has me shaking, and his rough treatment doesn’t help.
“There we go.”
With a slap on the ass, he makes me stand up. I feel faint as the drug rushes through my blood stream again. For a second I think my legs are going to give out. I slump against the wall and watch him administer the same treatment to the others before we’re all herded down the front steps and out into the street.
At first, all I can see is the flash of lights as they slow down and drift over me, causing a shadow against the wall behind me. When my eyes get used to the dim light I pick out a familiar shape and realize it’s April. She’s leaning back against one of the walls of the building, staring at the dirty concrete.
I stagger over to her. “April, it’s me.”
But this time she doesn’t even look up. She’s not lucid at all. She’s in another world. I am too. She’s wearing a tatty yellow dress. She’s so thin, she looks anorexic. Her hair falls over her face, so I can’t see her eyes either.
I begin to see the true hopelessness of the situation. There is nothing anyone can do to save us. The FBI and police may have tried, but it didn’t work. Now, here we are, lined up like dolls in a china shop, ready to be broken by anyone who cares to. It torments me, spins me round, and whirls me into a world of pain and disappointment. Carrie no longer exists. It’s only fear that presides.
The girls are busy at work around me. Even April gets called down to say hello to clients who drive by every few minutes. I manage to sink into the shadows. All I can think of is Blake. His eyes and his arms around me. If only he were here, I would run into them. I’d apologize and tell him everything. He would take me far, far away.
I lose my balance in the depths of this impossible fantasy. Somehow, I stumble into the lights of a slow-moving oncoming car. I look around for someone else to walk out to the edge of the curb. Only April and I are left on the block. Everyone else must be working. This new client has pulled to a stop. He’s in a red Honda. This is it, I think. I make my way down towards the car. I’m shaking and scared. I have no idea what to say. I want to run. The passenger window rolls down and a cold sounding voice tells me to get in.
I look back for a second. The security guy in the mask shakes his head at me. Running is not an option. I have to get into this car. Steeling myself, I reach for the door handle. But I step back as the lights of a different vehicle behind it illuminates me.
The engine is smooth and expensive sounding and it’s huge, looming almost twice as long as the Honda I stand beside. It’s a limousine, black with mirrored windows and it pulls to a stop directly in front of April Lee. The driver steps out and walks around to open the rear door. That’s when I see Jessup Lee step out and walk toward April.
To Be Continued
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