She Knows Her God

by Joy Ohagwu

  The palm fronds swiped at Asia’s face as they traipsed through the thick foliage on a seemingly uninhabited island. Roots blocked her path, and heat seared her skin, sweat making the girl’s clothing stick to her body. She stumbled. In the process, she tugged at the American girl. “Help is coming,” she whispered to her. “Be ready.”

  “Hurry it along!” Something slammed into her rear, and she screamed as loudly as she could. “Shut up or I’ll shoot,” one of the armed men warned.

  She shrieked aloud again. “Please don’t hurt me.”

  If Ramirez and his team were limited on equipment, she wanted to give as much clue as she could. “Where are you taking us?”

  “Shut up!” the man shouted, and she was happy. The louder anyone here was, the easier it was for Ramirez. Inside, she reveled. God had heard—and answered her. She’d have a lot to unpack when she got home. Among them was getting to know about God. He sure was kinder than she’d heard. And more benevolent than she assumed.

  One of the men shoved at her to move, so she did. Soon, they reached the other side of the island. Palm trees thinned as they entered a clearing while the men discussed their next move or itinerary.

  A large ship waited beyond the cove. If they got on it, they’d never be heard from again. Rustling sounded behind them, so it was now or never. Adrenaline surged through her. Praying it was Ramirez and his team—or some other help—Asia made a last-ditch effort. She screamed as loudly as she could, caught the American girl, and slammed her onto the sand.

  As though on cue, a bullet whirled past her and slammed into one of the armed men. A chopper whirred its approach. A gun battle from the air and on the ground erupted, and Asia stayed down.

  Chapter Sixteen

  For He said, “Surely, they are My people, Children who will not lie.” So He became their Savior. Isaiah 63:8

  * * *

  When fighting ensued, Asia grabbed the hand of the girl who’d given her the clothing. “Follow me!” They crawled on hands and knees in the sand, retreating toward the bushes. The men who were transporting them had taken cover. She wasn’t sure which direction they went, but she prayed they weren’t fleeing toward where she was. As she gauged where the friendlies fired from, she crawled in their direction. Battling overgrown weeds and smelly kelp, dried driftwood and rotten tree branches and other debris, she crawled deeper away from the shore and into the bushes. Sticks, rocks, and sharp grasses scratched and gouged her palms and knees. The girl panted as she crawled behind her.

  They came to a puddle in the ground, and Asia splashed through it, whooshing away the mud from her mouth, still crawling, still going deeper. The soft drizzling of rain that had been whispering over the land quickened into a downpour, coming hard and fast in the approaching darkness. Hearing the Ramirez team nearer, she rose to a crouch and had taken a few steps when something snapped beneath her. She screamed and tumbled into a depth she couldn’t clearly see. Someone yelped above her as the girl toppled in too. Asia hit the ground with a splash and blinked.

  A cave.

  “Great.” How did she fall into a cave on an island overrun with armed and dangerous human traffickers? “But, of course.” She smiled. “Watch your—”

  The girl crash-landed beside her as she dodged the thump right next to her.

  Asia wiped the water from her face and brushed the hair from her eyes. “I was warning you, but I guess I was too late.”

  The girl scuffled closer. “I was struggling to follow you and didn’t see you fall. Are we dead?”

  Despite the circumstances, Asia chuckled. “I pray not.” Then she mumbled under her breath, “I seem to be praying a lot these days.”

  “Not a bad thing if you ask me. Maybe that’s why I didn’t break a leg.”

  She had a good point. Asia hadn’t been injured either. She’d better pay more attention to these little miracles or else she might be a tad ungrateful to God. Farther in the cave, a jutting piece of rock seemed to point its fist toward the opening. She shuddered. If she’d found herself in contact with it… Well, that’s not something she wanted to think about.

  She rubbed shivers from her arms and breathed in the mustiness of raw earth. “If these traffickers used this island, they must’ve used this cave to move girls without being seen. Let’s have a look around and find a way out. Come on.”

  “I can barely see my hand.”

  “That’s a good thing. It means no one can see us enough to shoot. Grip my shirt and raise your feet high enough with each step so you don’t stumble, then step down lightly and make sure the ground is solid under your foot before trusting it with your weight. We—God—will find us a way out.” She might as well keep trusting in God.

  They pressed forward, passing signs of recent human presence—water sachets, cookie wrappers, water bottles, and toilet paper—strewn about. The level of trash suggested a significant number of people went through the cave. She pressed ahead, sped up by the urgency of the danger above and the fast-fading sunlight. The rain still pelted above, and mud trailed through holes in the ground into the cave. The rock boulder wedging the large portion of the cave ended, and the wall went from hard rock to moist earth. She bent when the cave narrowed, and they walked through until they discovered a narrow opening. She held up a hand and stopped the girl behind her.

  Listening for any approach, Asia heard only the rain. It had slowed to a drizzle, but she knew not to be deceived. It could easily flood the ground and sweep them to the open sea.

  She walked forward, ears sharp. They emerged into another part of the island—neither the part with Ramirez’s team nor the traffickers. Had she known which way led to where, then she’d know which direction to go.

  She thought about praying yet again. But hadn’t she prayed enough? She should expect to find her way, especially when nobody was shooting at her. “Let’s go right. Maybe we can find a way through.” The bushes were sloshing wetness to them, and she kept wiping her face. The smell of grass and petrichor—the scent of the ground after rain—filled her nostrils, and she felt deep in her gut that she needed a vacation. She’d worked for so long, and her passion for finding missing girls was still her priority. But maybe June and Latricia had a point. She was so focused on her work she seldom rested. Trudging through a traffickers’ cave and overgrown brush on an island created a craving for rest, relaxation, swimming—by choice not by force—and getting a mud bath in a massage center without gunshots exploding around her.

  “You’re quiet. Are you okay?” the girl asked, a shiver lacing her voice.

  “I’m not choosing to be quiet,” Asia said. “I just felt I needed a vacation, on an island that’s not this one.” Her shoulders sank, curving in around her chest. “Sorry, I was lost in thought.” She’d better address her shiver. “Are you cold? I can give you—”

  Asia had only taken a few steps when a crash behind her had her spinning sharply. “Are you alright?”

  The girl screamed as she stumbled on a piece of rock jutting out of the ground. She tumbled into a thorn bush and shouted again. “I’ve got thorns all over my body. Please help.”

  Asia rushed to her side and pressed a finger to her lips. “You need to stop screaming. I don’t want you to draw any attention.” She leaned over, ankles steeped in mud, pulled her out of the thorn bush, and tried to get the thorns off her body as quickly as she could—all while her heartbeat thundered. Had they been heard? And if so, was it by the wrong party? As she finished plucking the thorns off the girl’s back, something rustled behind them.

  Then someone spoke. “I’ve got two of them. Good.”

  Her heart pounded harder in her chest.

  “Lift up your hands where I can see them.” A man emerged from the bushes, his weapon trained on both of them.

  Asia raised her hands and tipped her head toward the girl who did the same. “We’re unarmed. We’re not a threat.”

  “I don’t care,” he said with a Mexican accent. “If you move, I’ll shoot.” The
n he grabbed her shirt and shoved her toward the left. “You girls thought you could run away, huh?” He grabbed the other girl, slammed her against Asia’s back, and shoved her forward even farther. “Well, you didn’t get too far, did you?”

  Asia acted ignorant. “What are you talking about?” She tried to buy them time, hesitating, but he slammed her back with the butt of his gun. She winced in pain but didn’t scream.

  “Stop asking questions. Just move your feet. We have to go to the boat. If only I could find those other girls…”

  A whoosh of air escaped her lungs. At least, some of the girls had successfully escaped. She’d gladly pay the price for them to remain free if she could keep this man’s focus on her. “You won’t get away with this, I promise you.”

  His laughter came out harsh and long. “Said the girl with a gun to her back. Shut up and keep moving, will you?”

  She kept moving. They had just a little light left on the horizon. They trudged along till they came to the stretch of sandy beach again. The water seemed calm from a distance, a contrast to the turmoil she waded in on land. “Where are you taking us? You have no right to take us anywhere. We are free.”

  He laughed harder. “Lie to yourself. There’s a price on your head.” His words grated against the isle’s deceptive tranquility. “We will get our money’s worth. Keep moving.”

  “Isn’t there a better way to make money?”

  The gun slammed her back again. This time, she didn’t wince.

  “You know, a lot of business opportunities don’t require trading in innocent girls, killing and maiming, and conducting illegal activity. You can use all of your intelligence toward something professional and lawful.” Asia made sure to keep talking. If there was any chance for a rescue, someone needed to know they were in trouble, although that just looked lame since she saw no one around them.

  This time he didn’t hit her, and he didn’t say anything. He just led them forward.

  A few moments later, as her hope nearly faded as fully as the waning light, she spotted streaks of blood on his face, arms, and on his neck. He seemed to have tumbled through some thorn bushes himself before reaching them.

  How did this man avoid Ramirez’s men, especially if he was alone? She now remembered he was one of those guarding them on the ship before they came to the island. She didn’t bother to think too long about that, focusing instead on watching her next step.

  Chapter Seventeen

  All that the Father gives ME will come to ME, and the one who comes to ME I will by no means cast out. John 6:37

  * * *

  A smaller boat than the one they’d seen earlier in the day was idling just beyond the cove, partly hidden by overcast trees whose branches swept to the shore. Asia threw a glance around again, but she only saw water in front, bushes behind, and blackness around. She tried not to allow the darkness to get in her.

  Then she almost tripped as she sucked in a sharp breath. Wait a minute. When she’d thought about praying earlier, she hadn’t done it. She’d thought she could navigate things on her own.

  What was going on? She was not a prayerful person. She didn’t consider herself a Christian by any standards. Yes, members of her family were Christians. But she just observed them and didn’t practice the Christian faith.

  But now, with the number of times she had prayed since coming to Mexico, she had changed. Things were different. And her life would never be the same.

  It was one thing to believe in God when there was no trouble and everybody seemed okay.

  That faith was good. But it was untested.

  Now, having been stuck in difficult situations several times and having called on God—and having Him hear and unequivocally answer her—she knew God had merit. She knew the Christian faith had merit. And she knew she had a decision to make. It was time for her to decide whom she’d serve.

  She wasn’t sure she was ready to face that decision yet. But she was getting more comfortable with God—talking to Him, relating with Him—and she didn’t feel any pressure from Him. Which was surprising, even shocking.

  Because she thought God would demand her allegiance for His interventions and miracles for her. She was beginning to learn that God was more generous than she believed He was. He gave freely without asking for anything, even if He knew she knew what she needed to do.

  He was going to give her the room and the freedom to choose. And, considering everything she’d gone through, experienced, and come to learn these last days, this was the most priceless. That God was not forcing faith on her but giving her room to choose faith.

  The closer they got to the boat, the more she wondered if she could pray just one last time. Was it too late? Or was there still time? Either way, not praying didn’t help her—at all—the last time she didn’t. She might as well pray.

  So as the bow lulled closer, and freedom felt farther, and darkness felt closer, and help felt distant, she uttered one more prayer: “Lord Jesus Christ, I know I’ve prayed a lot the past couple of days. I’ve asked for things I didn’t know I was ever going to ask You for. But this one more time, please help me and this girl. Please get us out of this situation. You are the God who helps us when no help is around. You are the God who makes a way out of impossible situations. And You are the God who helps the helpless. Please save us, Jesus. Amen.”

  “What did you say?” the man with a gun behind asked. His gun had lowered, now casting a shadow pointing toward the ground. Could she make a move? Would it endanger them if she failed? Could she tackle him?

  Asia opened her mouth and turned her head to answer, but something glittered from a distance, then slammed into the man’s head. She pushed the girl in front of her down to the ground. The man fell sideways, dead from a bullet to the head, and his blood trickled into the beach sand.

  Asia covered the girl’s mouth even as she began screaming. Then she pulled the girl to her feet and started running back the way they had come, each step powered by hope.

  But the girl faltered.

  “Come on!” She ordered the girl whose feet seemed to be crumbling beneath her. “If you don’t move, we both die. He’s not alone. People on that boat might start shooting if they see or hear anything wrong.”

  The warning silenced the girl.

  Asia ran like her life depended on it, her feet sinking into the sand. The ground beneath her gave way with each step, the very terrain conspiring against her as she trudged slower than she wanted it to. She held onto the girl tightly, not willing to lose her and unwilling to let her go.

  If she could save one person from this nightmare of human trafficking and slavery, she’d do it with all her might and with the last breath left in her, however hard.

  They ran until they reached the bushes. “Keep your head down. They could know something is wrong by now. Don’t look back.”

  Again, the girl complied.

  A man inched out from the bushes with his weapon aimed but didn’t shoot, and Asia stopped. He’d likely killed their captor. They stared at each other, but she could barely see him as the darkness had overtaken the landscape and the sunset was complete. No moonlight offered further illumination. “What’s your name?” he asked. “Identify yourself.”

  “Asia.” Her lungs burned, her heart thundered, and her feet kept tapping, ready to run in another direction if he was someone they couldn’t trust. Every part of her ached. Sand filled her shoes and ground against her blistered feet, and salty sweat stung cuts and scrapes from her fall and her headlong rush through the brush. She wanted food, water, and a shower—desperately.

  “Follow me. Keep your head down.”

  “Who are you?” She used a hand to stop the girl who was already advancing. She was going to be sure of who this man was before she went with him. This was not a time to trust a man whom she couldn’t see clearly physically and whose identification she couldn’t verify.

  He grabbed a radio clipped to his belt and spoke into it. “I’ve got the package.”

/>   “Asia?” Ramirez’s voice vibrated from the radio, asking the man.

  “Affirmative.”

  “Thank God. Get her out of there, man. Quick.”

  “Copy that.” He turned to Asia, waving his gun toward the bushes. “Are you convinced now?”

  She grabbed the girl’s hand, and they ran behind the man just as the whistle of a bullet whipped past her head and another slammed its thuuunk into a tree ahead.

  “Jesus!” She kept her head low and kept gripping the girl as the three ran forward, the man leading them returning fire in the boat’s direction. The wider the distance between them and the boat, the less tightness gripped her chest.

  Thankfully, soon, the bushes closed around them, shielding them away from the shore. As they plunged through thick bushes, all Asia did was follow the man and not look back. But she kept her ears trained behind her.

  They ran forever, and Asia struggled to keep lifting her feet so she didn’t stumble. Tripping would slow them down, and they could not afford it. She kept holding tightly to the girl behind her, refusing to let her go.

  She couldn’t let her fall.

  She wouldn’t let her die.

  But something else happened inside her heart.

  Tears welled up her eyes, sweat trickled down her face, and leaves slapped their wetness on her skin. Her mind replayed everything that happened by the boat.

  The prayer.

  The man’s gun pointed downward.

  The bullet hitting him.

  She shook her head.

  Asia was sure.

  This was not ordinary. It was over for them. It was hopeless.

  It was too late.

  But God intervened—even in a situation where it was too late.