Awake

by Edward J. McFadden III

  “We need to check you for bites,” Lester said.

  The girl recoiled from the dogs. Her long brown hair was matted with sweat, and she trembled and shook. It was hard to guess her age. She was attractive, yet appeared innocent. No visible tattoos, plain clothes, white sneakers. She said, “Don’t touch me, please. I’ll do whatever you ask.”

  If he could become a shitheel, that would be an upgrade from what he felt like. Don and Lester exchanged glances again. “Do you have a bra and underwear on?” Don asked.

  “Yes.”

  “So, like a bikini?” Don said.

  “Yes.”

  “And you wear those in front of strangers, right?”

  She nodded.

  “What’s your name?” Lester asked.

  “Tristin. All you want me to do is strip down to my underwear for a minute?”

  “That’s it. We have to make sure. Then we have blankets and food for you,” Lester said.

  “Do you understand?” Don said.

  She nodded and stripped.

  “I feel like a perv,” Lester said. Dempsey stared out the window. “She looks clean.”

  Tristin put her clothes back on and Lester put a blanket around her. “How’d you end up out here alone?”

  “Not now, let her rest,” Don said. He felt an overwhelming responsibility for the girl, and the pragmatic government agent that always prowled his head reminded him that’s why he didn’t want to stop for her.

  Tristin looked relieved, and leaned her head against the window.

  It took two more hours to complete the maze that led to Bubba and Annette Killington’s house on the outskirts of civilization. As they left the more populated areas, signs of unrest diminished. Though the Killington’s place wasn’t a shack, it wasn’t a palace like Dempsey’s. The street seemed similar to Don. It was quiet, subdued, and showed no outward signs that there was any reason to pause there. The sun crested above. It was 10:19AM.

  Don turned into a long driveway that led to Bubba and Ann’s place. “They know this van?” Don asked.

  “Yeah, he won’t shoot us. Don’t even stop. Drive around back into the trees. I think the van can go down the path a bit. Hide the bus that way, too,” Dempsey said, and he cast a sidelong glance at their new passenger.

  Don understood Dempsey’s concern. They couldn’t leave the girl alone in the van, and she couldn’t come with them. Leaving Lester behind was an option, but he didn’t like the idea of leaving his wingman. Don stopped the van.

  “What are you doing?” Dempsey asked.

  “You think Bubba would keep an eye on her for us if you gave him a pile of ride?” Don asked.

  “I don’t have a pile of ride,” Dempsey said.

  “We will if we’re successful, and if we’re not, she’s better off with them,” Don said.

  Dempsey’s face grew stern as he considered this. “Okay. You wait here, I’ll go talk to him,” he said.

  “No need. Here he comes,” Don said.

  Bubba looked exactly as Don had imagined. He had a tight crew cut, and sported faded overalls with no shirt underneath. He wore round glasses and carried what looked to be an SS1 assault rifle. The big man put the rifle to his shoulder and trained it on Don.

  Dempsey got out of the van. “Yo, Bubba, it’s Ricky, man. It’s cool. Heading out into the backcountry.”

  Bubba didn’t take his eye from the sight. “Who are these assholes?”

  “Just people who I’m helping out. The guy driving is a federal agent.”

  Bubba dropped the tip of his gun, looked at Dempsey, and started back to the house.

  “Wait, man. You want some ride? Free?”

  That made Bubba stop and turn. “How much? And what’s the catch?”

  “A hundred tabs, and all you have to do is keep an eye on her while we’re gone.” Dempsey opened the rear door of the bus and brought out Tristin. “We rescued her. Name’s Tristin.”

  Bubba looked the girl up and down, shook his head, and turned. As he went back to the house, he said, “I don’t need it. End is here.”

  “Why not ride it out in style?” Dempsey said.

  Bubba stopped and looked back. “She ain’t come’in in the house. Lock her in the garage and I’ll keep an eye on her.” Bubba strode forward until he was a foot away from Dempsey. “And if you don’t bring me my shit, I’ll stick this up your ass,” he said, and shoved the muzzle of the rifle in Dempsey’s face.

  “Yeah, sure, no worries,” Dempsey said, and he ushered Tristin into the Killington’s garage.

  The van didn’t make it far down the path, and they had to travel the rest of the way on foot. They opened the van windows a crack, and left Jessie and Tank in the VW. Where they were going would be difficult traveling for dogs. Buttonwood and red mangrove trees surrounded them and the ground was covered in palmetto plants. It was quiet, and a sweet gentle breeze blew through the trees. They walked twenty minutes before they reached the airboat, which lay hidden under a thick patch of mangrove trees, barely visible. A camouflage-colored kayak was tied to its side, and there were several fishing poles lodged in pole holders around the short gunnel.

  Don and Lester got on the boat as Dempsey spun its great air propeller. The engine kicked over after three turns, and the deafening sound of the air pressing the craft forward brought a new problem to mind. Drago would hear them coming a mile away. Don leaned over and yelled in Dempsey’s ear as he guided the boat out into a wider waterway. “Will he hear us?”

  Dempsey shook his head. “We’ll leave the boat and hike the last couple of miles.” Don looked up at the one-person kayak. “No worries,” Dempsey said, “I have portage wheels for that. I need to get to all kinds of remote places, and there are hardwood stands everywhere.”

  The airboat tore through the Everglades, knocking turtles off their perches, and scattering birds. Dempsey continually referred to a hand-drawn map he’d produced from a hiding place beneath the steering column. He made many turns, and several times, they crossed areas of wetlands where there appeared to be no water for the boat to float upon, only sawgrass.

  They came to a large stand of trees, and that’s where they left the boat. Dempsey and Lester untied the kayak and strapped on the portage wheels. They headed into a thick grove of buttonwood trees, and Don sucked in the fresh air and closed his eyes. He could almost forget why he was out here. Almost. There were signs others had been this way. Bootprints, wheel tracks, and an empty dry bag lay forlorn amidst the palmetto trees.

  They’d walked for half an hour when they came to a lake. Birds of all sizes and shapes soared above the clear water, and in the center was a tiny tree-covered island. Nothing moved on the island as they hide in a thicket of mangrove trees. There was a two-person kayak on the far shore of the lake, but there were no other signs people were on the island.

  “How many guards?” asked Don.

  “Three, maybe four, but they’re always watching.”

  “I want you to paddle out there. Tell him you want ride. While they’re distracted with you, I’ll sneak onto the island. Lester, you wait here. Stay at the ready. We may need to leave fast.” Lester gazed at the lake, and looked doubtful, but didn’t protest. “I’ll leave the M16 with you and take a gun off one of Drago’s men when I get over there.”

  “At night, there’d be a signal call. No need during the daylight hours,” Dempsey said.

  “Take your time getting over there, and stall as much as you can so I have time to take advantage of your distraction,” Don said.

  Dempsey nodded, and said, “Wish me luck.” He left them, and pushed the kayak out onto the lake, his hands up as he walked behind it. A yell of okay came from the island, and Don and Lester watched Dempsey from their hiding place as he glided across the still water in his sleek camouflage kayak. Many people’s lives now rested on the shoulders of Jack Dempsey.

  Chapter Twenty

  A ray of sunlight fell on Maureen’s face, and she woke with a start. At first, sh
e didn’t know where she was, but as her vision cleared, the gray canvas roof of a tent came into focus. Sunlight streamed through a gap in the tent door, and a faint breeze brought the scent of smoke and earth. She wasn’t tied up, or secured to her cot in any way, and Saura and Raul lay on similar cots, still fast asleep. Both looked troubled as they slept, and both had small cuts all over their faces and arms, which resulted from being dragged through sawgrass.

  The events of the prior night came rushing back, and Wendy’s broken and bloodied body filled her mind’s eye, and then an image of an arrow sticking out of Ping’s back, his black blood running over the deck of his kayak. She rubbed her temples, thinking about what to do next. The second she got off the cot, she’d be met by Drago’s men. She was hungry, and exhausted. The events of the last twenty-four hours had sucked all the life from her, and she didn’t think she had any more strength to fight. It was useless anyway. Drago’s men had guns, and they were trapped on an island, in the middle of the nowhere, with no way of communicating with the outside world. Her phone was long gone, as was her rifle. This panicked her, and she reached into her pocket, and wrapped her fingers around the final bullet.

  There were voices outside, and all it would take is a yell, or a few words to bring their guards. What would happen then, she didn’t know. She had an idea, and the thought of being raped, or worse, filled her eyes with tears, though she didn’t allow them to fall. She would fight until they killed her if need be, and maybe she’d take one of the bastards with her.

  “You okay?” It was Raul.

  “Nothing broken,” Maureen said.

  “Saura,” called Raul. Saura didn’t stir.

  “Let her sleep,” said Maureen. “You have any thoughts?”

  “Yeah, we’re screwed.”

  They were whispering, trying not to alert their guards, but apparently they hadn’t been quiet enough. Mr. Sunglasses strode into the tent like a general, and two men in camouflage fatigues flanked him. The men reeked of smoke, and liquor and sweat. Their faces were smeared with dirt, and their eyes were red and haunted.

  “You sure are,” Mr. Sunglasses said. “Sit up.”

  Maureen and Raul complied, but Saura didn’t move. Before one of the men awakened her with a boot heel, Raul reached across his cot, and poked her several times. Nothing. She snored for a second, and then went back to faint, shallow breaths. Raul poked her again, harder, and still she didn’t wake.

  “Go wake Sleeping Beauty,” said Mr. Sunglasses, and one of his henchman stepped forward.

  Raul was faster. He slid off his cot and shook Saura. Mr. Sunglasses pushed him aside, and yanked Saura to her feet. She was dazed, and looked very small. Her eyes darted around the tent, and when she saw Maureen, she tried to run to her. Mr. Sunglasses grabbed her, and tossed her back onto the cot.

  “Listen up!” The man yelled so loud, Maureen jumped. “Next person who moves without permission will be shot. No one knows you’re here.” He paused and let the ramifications of that statement settle in their minds. “I will bury you all in a shallow grave if you so much as make a sound without being asked to do so. Do you understand?” Maureen, Saura, and Raul wagged their heads as fast as they could. “Good. My boys here will bring you food. Eat, get yourselves together, and get ready to meet the man.” With that, he spun on his heel, and left the tent, followed by his men.

  The tent was silent for a few moments, and then Saura cried. She’d lost her husband, and from what Maureen had seen, Ping had taken care of her like a child, and now that’s what Saura was. Raul sat and put his arm around her. Maureen could tell he’d done this to comfort himself as much as her. They’d all lost someone dear to them, and neither Maureen, nor her friends, had any time to deal with the losses.

  One of the men returned with food and water. The stale bread and baked beans were surprisingly good, and the water tasted like wine to their parched mouths. In minutes, they were done and waiting for a meeting they understood wasn’t going to be pleasant.

  “I must look like shit. Maybe they’ll leave me be,” Maureen said, only half-joking.

  “What about me?” Saura said in a shaky voice.

  “I won’t let anything happen to you,” said Raul. He dropped his chin to his chest. He knew the folly of his words, and the utter helplessness of their situation.

  “What do you make of these guys?” Maureen asked.

  “Drug dealers would be my guess. They probably bring coke and weed up by boat, then use their camp as the distribution point,” Raul said. “They live in tents, and move around a lot. Stilts and crew are just watchdogs, the first line of defense on their main trade route for low-level suckers.”

  “Like us,” Maureen said.

  “How are we going to get out of here?” Saura asked.

  To that, no one had an answer.

  Mr. Sunglasses returned with his two men, and they all silently shuffled out of the tent. Sunlight blinded Maureen as she entered the clearing, but the warmth felt good on her face, and as her vision cleared, she saw no other people as they walked through camp. There was no fire pit, no children, or women. She searched for anything that might help them escape, but there was nothing but trees, bugs, and the smell of rot.

  Mr. Sunglasses stopped at the main tent’s entrance and turned to his charges. “This is not the time to be a wiseass, or ask questions. Drago’s temper is short, and he needs none of you. Get my drift?” Mr. Sunglasses pulled his shades to the tip of his nose, and ogled them with bloodshot eyes.

  Maureen nodded. The tent flap was pulled back, and they all stepped inside. Despite the bright day, the interior was dark and shadowy. It was setup like a king’s main audience chamber, and Drago sat on his camping chair throne at the end of the tent opposite the entrance.

  Drago was a huge man, clearly of Cuban decent, and his tiny black eyes shinned like opals. He wore a Lakers T-shirt, a camouflage hat, and an ammo belt. Thick gold chains hung around his neck, and he wore several rings and bracelets. Mr. Sunglasses poked Maureen in the rear, and she walked forward, and stopped before Drago. She heard Raul and Saura’s ragged breathing behind her, and she felt the tension and fear rolling off them.

  Drago watched them for a few minutes, and then pointed at Saura, and rolled his finger in a “come” motion. Saura whimpered, but after one of the men grabbed her ass, she jumped forward, and then continued on until she stood quivering in front of the large man.

  “My name is Drago. Come close. Let me see you,” he said. Saura inched closer, and Drago lifted the sunglasses from his face, revealing one good eye, and one milky-white one. Half his face was badly scared, and the thicker ones pulsed red. He got up, and circled the young Asian woman, leering the entire time. He reached out a finger and tugged on a strap of her tank top. Saura pulled back, and Maureen heard Raul grunt behind her. “You know why you’re here?” he asked.

  “No,” said Saura, her voice frail and broken.

  “Well. Maybe you can stay around and keep me company. Sit,” said Drago, and he motioned for Saura to sit in a chair at his side. Then he moved on to Maureen.

  She was older, and Drago found her less attractive because the inspection only took a moment. He said, “Jeremiah, this one is for you.” Mr. Sunglasses smiled. Drago moved on to Raul. “You have little to offer me.”

  He turned and sat back on his throne, and put his sunglasses back on. His hand dropped onto Saura’s leg, and the young women flinched at his touch.

  Maureen looked around the tent, and in one corner, to the right of Drago, was a pile of what looked to be money, all wrapped in small packages, and stacked neatly. Drago noticed her eyeing the pile, and said, “More powerful than a nuclear bomb that is.” Maureen looked away.

  Drago slid his hand down Saura’s thigh, and she screamed. This just encouraged the rogue. With surprising strength, he lifted Saura off her chair with one arm, and placed her on his lap. She wiggled and thrashed, trying to get free, but his hands clamped down on her arms, and he pulled her close
, and licked her neck. She struggled harder, and Drago laughed as he fought with her.

  Raul pulled free of his captors and dove forward to help Saura, and knock Drago from his perch. He didn’t even make it halfway. Drago’s men were faster, and in seconds, Raul was pinned to the floor, his eyes rolling in his head. Drago laughed, and stuck his hand up Saura’s tank top. Raul fought harder, and this earned him several punches to face, but still he didn’t quit. He jerked and pulled, and got one arm free. He punched one of the men, and split his lip. Blood dripped onto Raul’s face as he struggled to free himself.

  Maureen stood frozen, no idea what she should do. She wanted to help Raul, but she knew there was nothing she could do. If she entered the fray, things were sure to end badly for her, but if she didn’t, what hope of escape did they have?

  She went for it, and threw herself on top of one of the men holding down Raul, and clawed his eyes. The man wailed, and threw her off as though she weighed nothing. Maureen landed next to the pile of money, and now she saw many piles of cash wrapped in plastic.

  Drago placed Saura back in her seat and got up. He went to the pile and pulled out a wrapped stack of bills. He held it in front of Maureen’s face, and said, “Do you know what will happen if I open this, and rub one of these bills on your face?”

  “I think I have a good idea.”

  Drago laughed and threw the stack back onto the pile. “Soon all the righteous of this country will pay. I will bring the world back to the Stone Age.”

  They had reached the point in the meeting that Maureen most feared. The banter was done, the day was getting on, and the time had come to get things going. One of Drago’s men came in, and whispered in his ear. Drago smiled, and said, “Take her to my tent. These two can watch. I doubt they’ll make it through the day.”