Chained

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Chained Page 14

by Escalera, Tessa


  “Where are we going?” I panted. “I'm tired.”

  Travis slowed, though he did not release my hand. “You'll see.”

  The trail wound slowly up the side of the hill, often almost doubling back on itself to avoid boulders and rocky outcroppings. The scrubby grass scraped at my pants, and once or twice I almost stepped on a cactus. Every once in a while I saw the tracks of some sort of deer, and droppings that looked like those of rabbits.

  I tripped and fell, ripping my pants and skinning my knee. Tears stung my eyes, but I quickly stood up and brushed myself off, determined not to show weakness.

  “You okay?”

  It was the most insane question in the history of the world, coming from that man. I just nodded and let him take my hand again.

  By the time we crested the top of the hill, I was lightheaded and sweating. Travis released my hand and strode quickly forward to a large area of bare rock that showed through the thin grass. As I watched and tried to catch my breath, he removed a tablecloth from the basket and spread it on the rock. He motioned for me to come sit down.

  A picnic breakfast? This was insanity on top of insanity. Nevertheless I walked forward and sat down where Travis indicated. He handed me a plate full of fresh fruit, cheese and crackers. My stomach growled loudly and I began to stuff the food into my mouth, lest he should change his mind.

  Travis just laughed and brought out his own plate. He watched me silently as I ate.

  When the food was gone, I set the plate down. “What is all this about?”

  Travis acted surprised. “Can't a guy have breakfast with a girl without there having to be a reason?”

  You aren't just a guy. And I'm not some girl for you to wine and dine and talk pretty to. “Um, no.”

  Travis sighed. “Why do you have to complicate things? I thought that you were accepting your circumstances, seeing as how you haven't tried to escape for quite a while.”

  I desperately swallowed the angry words that wanted to come spewing from my mouth. Because I watched you murder two men in cold blood, and I didn't want to be responsible for any more death. Because I was hugely pregnant. Because I had no hope. Because you took my baby! “I'm not complicating things. I don't understand why you're being nice to me.”

  Travis smiled. It was the smile that used to make me melt inside, even in a snapshot on the internet. “Master gave you to me. I'm not perfect, but I don't treat girls like he does. I'm not cruel.”

  “No?” I couldn't quite keep the dangerous edge out of my voice.

  Travis either didn't hear, or ignored. “You are the first woman my father has given to me. I intend to treat you carefully. I don't want you used up and worn out within a year or two. I want to have you around for a while.”

  One word in particular hit me. Through my newly found horror, I realized I should have known. Even as I asked the question, I knew that I already had the answer. “Your father?”

  “Yes. Master is my father.”

  Well, it made sense. I suddenly understood the unquestioning devotion, how Travis refused to leave or call the police no matter what Master did.

  A thought occurred to me that made my stomach turn. “And your mother?”

  “One of his women, yes.”

  Travis is twenty one years old. Twenty-one years. That's how long he's been doing this. How has no one ever caught this man? How many women have died in that basement? Suddenly I was wishing I hadn't eaten that food.

  Travis must have mistaken my horrified silence for interest. “He's never let me have a woman of my own before. He said I was too young.”

  I felt sick. “How many women?”

  Travis shrugged. “I have no idea. I started helping him when I was thirteen. He'd been rescuing women from the streets for years, even before I was born.”

  I was afraid I was going to vomit. “Rescuing?”

  “Well, yes. He only takes girls that are homeless, or prostitutes, or ones that would never have a real home otherwise. Of course, they don't understand what he's doing. But usually after a few years they start to understand, if they are still alive by then. I told you before about all this, don't you remember?”

  Anything over a week ago felt like another lifetime. I just shook my head. “But the babies...”

  “Master knows these women would never make good mothers. He gives the babies to families who desperately want a child, who are able to prove that they can afford to raise a baby.”

  “What, you mean you're selling the babies?”

  Travis frowned. “Well, nothing so crude. After all, a baby takes nine months or more to be ready for the world. And Master needs money to live off of, and to feed the girls. The parents are merely paying for services provided. It works out for everyone.

  “Why didn't he sell you?”

  “Oh. My mother was somehow able to hide her pregnancy from him, and she kept me hidden for nearly three years. By the time Master realized my existence, I was too old. The parents only want newborns without faults. These are the ones that they will pay the highest money for.”

  “What happened to your mother?”

  “He let her raise me until I was old enough to do many things for myself, then he punished her.”

  “You mean he killed her.”

  Travis shrugged. “She was punished, and she died of her wounds. Sometimes death is the price of disobedience.”

  Sometimes death is the price of disobedience. Sometimes you shoot men in cold blood for no reason other than being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Sometimes you capture innocent girls and you bring them to your basement dungeon to be raped and tortured at will.

  I stood and turned to leave. “I've heard enough. I don't know why you brought me up here.”

  Travis grabbed my arm and spun me around to look at him. “I said I would not be cruel to you. I did not say that you are allowed to treat me however you want.”

  “Let me go. I want to go back.”

  “Our picnic isn't finished yet.”

  I jerked my arm out of his grasp. “I don't care. I'm going.”

  I barely had time to register the movement before he lifted his hand and slapped me on the cheek. Tears sprang to my eyes and I pressed my hand to the injury, looking up at him in shock. “I own you,” He said in a low voice, his lips moving right next to my ear. “You do not leave until I tell you to leave.”

  Like father, like son. I opened my mouth to reply, anger burning in my chest, but Travis raised his hand as a warning. “Sit down.”

  I didn't want to be hit again. I sat down on the blanket.

  Then Travis was in front of me, pawing at me. On a hilltop, in the sunlight, he apparently intended to have his way with me. And if I didn't want to be beaten, I had no choice but to accept it.

  ***

  Some parts of this never got easier. I taught myself to enjoy the walks, and the words that could almost be imagined to be kind. I lay beneath him, imagining that he was someone I loved. I cut the memories of the murders from my mind. The only place I could not avoid them was in my dreams.

  Travis gave me flowers. He brought me a necklace, a gold chain with a purple stone in the pendant. He fed me chocolate. And when he wanted, he raped me.

  As long as I pretended to be happy and to appreciate him, I was treated well. When I started to become sarcastic or tried to question anything, then the crueler side of Travis would start to surface. The only thing predictable about his moods was how little I could predict them. Sometimes I thought I would almost have preferred Master's attentions...at least he was consistently vicious, without this constant fear of waiting for the other shoe to drop. He could go from laughing and smiling in one second, and in the next my cheek would be stinging. Many times I was never quite sure what I had done to deserve the slap. Eventually I pretty much stopped talking altogether. It was safer that way.

  Once he felt that he had sufficiently convinced me that escape was impossible, there was a night when Travis let me sleep in the house. Th
at first night I felt so guilty that I could not sleep, thinking about Rachel and the pregnant Tanya still out in the barn. I laid there under the clean sheets and stared at the popcorn ceiling, my stomach churning with disgust—at myself, and at Travis.

  I quickly learned that there were no electronics in the house besides the TV and the phones that Travis and Master carried with them. No computer. No tablets. No way of accessing the outside world.

  At least I knew the dates and the days now. Today was August 15th, a Friday. Three weeks since we had been brought to this new place. I was allowed nearly full rein in the house except for a locked door at the end of the hall, to which only Travis had a key.

  I was even allowed to walk outside. I was now the one in charge of bringing the other girls their meals. I knew they hated me for it. Neither would talk to me.

  One day I was walking and wandered a little too far. I got lost between the hills and it was nearly sunset before I found my way back to the house. I was greeted by an irate Travis, his face red with anger.

  “Where were you?” He shouted, advancing toward me menacingly. He took me by the arms and shook me. I fixed my eyes on a point on the ground, keeping my head down.

  “I'm sorry. I got lost.” I said this in a monotone, careful to avoid any trace of insubordination.

  “Right. You've been here for weeks, and you just happened to 'get lost' in a land with no trees?”

  I just shrugged. Apparently this was the wrong answer. A fist drove into my stomach and I doubled over, gasping.

  My heart rate began to speed as fear flooded my veins. Travis had never truly beaten me before, only Master. had But now that I belonged to him, he seemed to feel no such restraint as he once did.

  Another punch in my ribs. I cried out and my knees buckled. I knelt on my hands and knees, looking at the ground. “I'm sorry!” I cried. “It was an accident!”

  “I don't believe you!” A kick this time. I bit my lip until I tasted copper blood, trying not to scream.

  By now it was best to be quiet. I curled up in a ball, my hands over my head and neck, my knees drawn up to protect my stomach. Travis yelled and kicked and punched, but since I gave his anger nothing to feed on, he quickly ran out of steam. I heard him stomping off and I waited a few moments before moving.

  It wasn't until I was in my bed, my bruises and scratches cleansed by hot water, that I allowed myself to cry. It hurt to draw breath, and I thought a rib might be broken.

  I felt no guilt that night. Only a fierce loneliness and an ache for the feeling of a kind touch. I slept, accosted by nightmares in which I stood once again on that featureless plain, gun in my hand, one by one killing all of the people that had died since my capture. I cried bitterly when little Essie crumpled to the ground, waking myself with the force of my grief.

  Chapter 20: Discoveries

  When I woke in the morning, Travis was sitting silently at the foot of my bed. In his hands he had a breakfast tray. When I scooted up into a sitting position, he set the tray on my lap. Without a word, he got up and left the room.

  On the tray was a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and biscuits with gravy. To the side was a glass of orange juice, and across the top was a single red rose.

  Beneath the rose was a folded piece of paper. I set the juice on the end table so it wouldn't spill, then took the paper and unfolded it.

  It read:

  Sarah,

  I'm sorry. I know now that you were telling the truth. You didn't mean to get lost. I'm sorry I was hurtful. I shouldn't have let you make me so angry. I want to make it up to you. Meet me by the truck after you've eaten and you're dressed.

  Travis

  Apologies wouldn't heal the bruises on my thighs and my ribs. But sorry or not, I didn't dare disobey. I ate my food quickly, then showered and combed through my pixie-ish hair.

  When I emerged from the house, the air was crisp and cool. Almost too cool for my sandals and short sleeves. Travis was leaning against the truck, his arms crossed, watching me.

  I crossed the yard quickly, keeping my head down. I walked around to the passenger side of the truck and opened the door.

  The passenger seat had a stain on it that looked a lot like blood. Sophie's blood. My breath caught in my throat. At Travis's questioning stare I quickly slid into the seat, trying not to think about the stain beneath my jeans.

  We pulled out of the little cove and bounced down the dirt path that led to the bottom of the mountain. After a couple minutes Travis turned off on a side path that led off to the left, a path I would never have noticed. This path took us around the side of the hill, a steep drop-off beginning just a few feet past the edge of the passenger side wheel. My stomach churned with anxiety and I folded my hands in my lap, trying to keep my eyes straight ahead. Out on the plains a herd of antelope grazed. A rabbit skittered across the trail in front of us, and barely missed being crushed by the truck's tires.

  The ground leveled after a while, though the path was still rough and rutted. I held onto the handle above my head, biting my lips against the pain of the jolting on my bruises. I laid my head back on the headrest and closed my eyes, praying for us to get there soon before I started crying.

  The truck ground to a halt, and I heard the clicks of the gear shift being moved into park. Travis's hand touched my cheek, cool and gentle. “We're here, Butterfly.”

  I opened my eyes...and despite myself, gasped in wonder. We were on a flat surface, facing a fold in the mountain. There were trees in the fold, glorious and green. Between them, I caught a glimpse of glistening white. A waterfall.

  I looked over at Travis and he was grinning. “You want to get a closer look?”

  I nodded, and opened my door to slide to the ground, wincing at the pain in my rib. I walked around to the front of the truck and took Travis's proffered hand. I followed him across the rocky ground.

  The ground dropped away suddenly from our feet, and I gasped again. We stood on the edge of a cliff, and below us a frothing waterfall leaped from the edge and plunged dozens of feet to the rocks below. The stream was narrow but violent, the water white with foam. Above us the water fell around rocks and tree trunks until it reached its ultimate descent.

  I looked up to see Travis staring at me intently. “Do you like it?”

  I couldn't lie. There was a childlike expression in his eyes—a feeling of innocence and a lack of the careful guard he normally kept over his face. “It's beautiful,” I breathed, and I meant it. The spume flew against my face, chilling my skin. The splashing and roaring filled my ears with the music of nature.

  Somewhere off in the distance, a bird cried. I stretched out my arms and leaned out as far as I dared, feeling as if the wind would soon come and carry me away from this place. For a split second I imagined how it would feel to jump. An exquisite freedom, weightlessness, a throwing off of all boundaries. And then an instant end to everything at the bottom.

  “Come on.” I followed Travis along the edge of the stream, until we came to a boulder that sat right in the middle of the water, which parted to run around either side. It was a short step from a ledge on the bank to the enormous rock. Travis leapt up to the ledge and extended a hand for me to do the same, before we both stepped onto the boulder together.

  Once there, I sat down and he sat behind me, pulling me back to lean against his chest. I was suddenly uneasy, and fought the temptation to pull away. I fought against my fight or flight reflex, forcing myself to relax against him.

  “Isn't this perfect?” Travis whispered in my ear, his breath hot on my skin.

  I murmured something that he took as assent, and he smiled against my neck.

  “We could come here every day, if you like.”

  As I looked down at the stream, able to see through the trees past the waterfall and into the valley below, I sighed. “It really is beautiful.”

  “Then what's wrong?”

  I couldn't tell him. It would make him angry. I just shrugged against him, not answering.<
br />
  Travis pulled me around a little so that I could see his face. “You can tell me. It's okay.”

  “No, it isn't. You would be angry if I told you.”

  “Why? I have given you everything that girls want. What could you possibly want, but to stay here?”

  The questions pierced into my heart. He sounded absolutely sincere. This was a man that had never known real love. He had never known anything but abuse and the evil perpetrated by sick minds. He really had no idea why I would want to leave. “It's nothing, Travis.”

 

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