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Isabella's Submission [Fate Harbor 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

Page 4

by Caitlyn O'Leary


  She waited until dusk to make her purchases, wanting to keep the milk and the other perishable items as cold as possible when she brought them to the camp. She had bought as much as her car would carry. She used her smartphone’s “breadcrumb” app again to find her way back, and concealed her car in the designated spot. She had bought three medium-sized backpacks that would still be light enough for her to throw over the fence after filling them up with food and supplies. She was making extremely slow progress, not just because of the pain, but because her leg didn’t seem to have as much strength as it should. Her ankle seemed to be getting worse rather than better. Of course, it had only been twenty-four hours since her injury. Perhaps that was just how it healed.

  She waited near the back of the fence for close to an hour, again praying that there would be no guard to find her. Thankfully, a bedraggled inhabitant of the camp finally approached her from one of the distant wooden structures that acted as homes for the people who were incarcerated there. She waved, but in the dark he did not see her. She whispered loudly, but again did not get his attention. Finally she resorted to speaking, and he walked over quickly.

  She explained in Spanish why she was there, and asked if he would get either the wife or husband who had just been brought in two nights before. He said he would. He came back with Mr. and Mrs. Velarde and Victor.

  “Miss Isabella, you came! Can we leave now?”

  The little boy and all three adults looked at her hopefully, and she so hated to disappoint them. “I’m working on it. In the meantime, I thought you might need some supplies.”

  “Were you unable to get the policia?” Mr. Velarde asked. He looked at her with wise old eyes that told her he had foreseen the difficulties she ran into with local law enforcement.

  “They were untrustworthy.” Mr. Velarde nodded his head and asked no more questions, for which she was grateful. “I’ve brought some supplies, and I think that by tomorrow night I should be able to assist in getting you out of here, with or without the authorities.” At that point, she saw the doubt on Mr. Velarde’s face.

  “Miss Camarena, we don’t want you to do something that will land you in here with us, or worse.” Mr. Velarde’s meaning was clear, but despite his best efforts to shield his son from the danger she might be in, Victor’s limber mind immediately understood.

  “Miss Isabella, will you be in danger for helping us?”

  “No, Victor, I’m perfectly safe,” she assured the young boy. She was so proud, that despite the harsh circumstances he was currently living under, he was thinking about others. “Now, I need you to catch the backpacks that I throw over the fence, then empty them, and throw them back to me. I will then load them back up and we will do this again.”

  The first two backpacks cleared the fence just fine, and Mrs. Velarde and Victor began to unload them while the two men readied themselves to catch the third. Unfortunately, that one got stuck on the barbed wire. The other man, after seeing the supplies that were being unloaded, quickly scrambled up the fence and rescued the valuable pack and brought it to the ground. Mr. Velarde climbed the fence and dropped down the three empty backpacks to Isabella, and she made the trek back to her car and reloaded. She repeated the same procedure four more times.

  By the time she got back to the motel it was well past midnight. She was exhausted and her muscles felt like cooked spaghetti. She fell into bed and had nightmares of her parent’s car bursting into flames, then instead of being sent to heaven, they were stuck in the camp with the Velardes.

  The next morning, her cell phone would not stop ringing. She received four phone calls from Shirley, two from Bethany and two from Belinda. But what really concerned her were the three from the state police officer. He was becoming quite insistent that he speak to her. He said he wanted to hear more about her claims concerning a forced itinerant labor camp. Isabella recalled she had must have said something to that effect to the dispatcher in order to get her attention and get the man to call her back. But now she realized her mistake. Worried that he might be able to track her, she removed the back of her cell phone and extracted its SIM card. She figured that the next time she needed her cell phone she could put it in for the short time she needed to use it. She had watched movies and knew that it was the SIM cards that allowed people to track you.

  She wished she had thought to bring her laptop, because she felt lost without it. But on second thought, that might have been something they could have tracked as well. With that thought in mind, her next stop was the library. She needed to research government agencies to identify the organization best suited to assist her, now that the sheriff and state police were no longer options. After an hour searching on the internet she decided that the FBI and the DEA were her best choices. But tonight she needed to get more supplies to the people in the camp. She would call in the morning.

  The pain in her leg was getting even worse, and when she changed her bandages, she saw that the wound was now red, and there was some yellow drainage. She had looked that up on the Internet as well, and noted that this could be the sign of an infection. She decided to wait until tomorrow to see if it worsened, then she would go to the clinic, if necessary. She had to get more supplies to the camp tonight.

  When she went to the shopping center she was grateful that she had the shopping cart to lean on, because she was having a great deal of trouble walking. She didn’t know how she was going to walk from her car to the fence carrying the backpacks. Then she saw an older woman with a small personal cart that she pulled with wheels.

  “Pardon me, but where did you purchase that?” Isabella asked the woman.

  “You can get them over on aisle six,” the older woman explained.

  Isabella purchased that along with the supplies, knowing she would need it.

  That night Mr. Velarde was waiting by the fence.

  “You’re injured!” he exclaimed.

  “I’m sorry, yes,” she apologized.

  “Tell me what has happened. I know there is a reason you have not brought the policia. I need to know.” Isabella explained everything.

  “But I intend to go to the DEA and FBI offices tomorrow.”

  “How do you know that they are not part of the same conspiracy?” Mr. Velarde was both angry and scared and she couldn’t blame him.

  “Because these are national agencies, not state or local,” she explained. “They will not be corrupt.” Isabella noticed that she was having trouble standing on her leg, so she held onto the fence with both hands, trying to take the weight of her leg. “Mr. Velarde.”

  “Please, call me Juan.”

  “Juan, you’re right, I’m injured. I hurt my leg trying to climb the fence the other night. It was stupid. I need to get the supplies to you while my leg holds out.”

  “Wait, there is something I need to tell you. Things have gotten worse.”

  Isabella took a deep breath. She didn’t want to know what could have possibly gotten worse for the man and his family, but she nodded and said, “Tell me.”

  “The overseer, he is interested in my daughter Carmen. You understand?”

  Isabella nodded her head. She understood. Carmen was a fourteen-year-old student at the Cesar Chavez School where Isabella taught.

  “We must leave, before he takes her and abuses her.” There was real fear in the man’s voice. “Also, they are making Victor and even little Anna work in the orchard.” Isabella was feeling sicker by the minute. She had to do something! Lives were depending on her. For God’s sake, little Anna was only seven years old.

  “Okay then, even if the authorities will not help, I will meet you at this fence tomorrow night and I will have a way to take your children out of here.” Isabella knew that she could find a way. She always found a way to succeed in her goals.

  She found the strength to throw the backpacks over the fence again, though she could not fill them as full as she had the night before. She knew that she would not be able to clear the fence if they were too heavy. So
the process took twice as long, but the wheeled cart helped ease the trips back and forth to the secreted car. By the time she got back to the motel she knew she was in trouble. She took off the bandage, and there was puss oozing out of her leg. It was hot to the touch, but she just needed one more day. She went to bed and had nightmares again. The next day she woke up in a fog. She had phoned the list of federal agency contacts the night before, and like with the state police, the FBI and DEA agencies said people would call her back. She left her cell phone on. Once again she was getting calls from the state police officer, but she ignored them.

  After some food, coffee and more aspirin, Isabella felt better. She finished the last two items on her to-do list from the library. It was Friday night, and she longed for her own bed, in her own apartment. Even working at Murphy’s would be so much better than where she was right now. She missed her parents, and sometimes wished she had someone that she could lean on, but she quickly dismissed the idea. It was foolish. She knew the only person who she could count on was herself. For just a moment she thought of two handsome faces, but then she shoved that thought down deep within.

  She drove the SUV that she had just purchased to the labor camp, once again thanking God that she had not run into anyone else on the road to the camp. She didn’t bring supplies this time. Instead she brought industrial-strength wire cutters. Mr. Velarde was at the spot as he had promised. There were many others with him, many more than just his family. She hoped that they would understand she only intended to take children with her.

  Isabella slowly made her way to the fence.

  “I am sorry, Isabella, but some of the others who have seen the supplies, guessed that there would be an escape attempt,” he said in rapid Spanish.

  “I was unable to get the authorities to help. They should be coming here tomorrow or the day after,” she said to the assembled crowd.

  “You have said that before.” It was the woman she met the first night.

  “I know, but some of the officials are corrupt,” she explained.

  “It is like Mexico,” another man spat out.

  “I am working to find people who are good and not corrupt,” Isabella felt her head spinning. She needed to start loading up the children. She felt like she might throw up. “I have a vehicle to take children only. I am taking the Velarde children with me,” she said in a steely voice. She looked over the group of people, daring anyone to disagree. When there was silence, she continued. “I have room for twelve small children or eight older children. You decide who is coming.” She pulled the wire cutters out of the small wheeled shopping cart.

  With Isabella on one side of the fence and the men helping her on the other side, she was able to squeeze the wire cutters closed and clip the wires enough so that she could then push the cutters through to the men on the other side. Then the job went much faster. In the meantime, the assembled group talked, determining who would go with her. Everyone agreed it would only be small children except for those who would carry the infants. Mrs. Velarde gathered her children, and Carmen held a baby. There were three other girls who looked to be thirteen who held babies. Isabella wouldn’t have been surprised if their parents weren’t eager to get them away from the wandering eyes of the guards. When Isabella looked closely at two of the girls, she could see that there were bruises on their faces and arms, and she feared that they might already have suffered abuse. She turned and threw up.

  “Miss Isabella!” Carmen exclaimed. “Are you sick?”

  “I ate something that disagreed with me,” Isabella lied, hoping that they could not see her blush. She knew that she was a very bad liar, but she needed these parents to trust that she could save their children.

  “Hurry,” one of the men said, as he pulled back the chain link fence. “The overseer will be here in an hour to give us food. You must be long gone by then.” All of the children were now waiting outside the fence with her, and she turned back one last time to talk to Mr. and Mrs. Velarde.

  “I’ll come back for you,” she promised.

  “We’ll be gone. As soon as they find our children gone, they’ll move us, you know that. Please don’t get caught, we need you to protect our children. “How do you know you’ll be taken away from here?” she asked.

  “The others told us of one other successful escape when they were at another camp, and that is what happened. Via con Dios. Gracias. You have saved our children. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts.” The Velardes turned away, and she turned to the children.

  “Quickly, you must be very quiet, and I will take you to my car.” Isabella looked at all of them and realized it was going to be a very tight fit, but she would make it work.

  She moved very slowly, and soon Victor and one other boy were walking on either side of her, allowing her to lean on them, so that together they moved faster. She hated having to lean on such small children, but she really had no choice.

  She was sweating profusely, and had to make the boys stop, while she threw up again. “Miss Isabella, you are really sick, what do we do?” She heard his fright, but also his determination to help her.

  “I’m not really sick, Victor. I can drive, we will be fine,” she assured the young boy, who so acted like a man.

  Carmen came over to her. “Miss Isabella, I know how to drive if you are too sick. I’ve had to drive for my Papa sometimes because he cannot read the traffic signs.”

  “Thank you, Carmen, but I will be fine,” the Velarde children were wonderful. Their parents had raised them right. Soon they got to the SUV, and the older children helped to load the younger children into the vehicle. It was a very tight fit, but they managed. Isabella was feeling very dizzy, but she gritted her teeth and rolled down the windows, knowing the fresh air would help her. The babies were crying, but she blocked them out, instead concentrating on the rough terrain of the dirt road.

  After what seemed like hours, they were on the highway. She had known they could not get far, so she had rented additional rooms at her motel. She had explained to the motel clerk that she was a counselor for a school outing, and needed rooms for some Seattle-based students who were coming to learn about agriculture. She said that other counselors were also coming to chaperone the students, but that she was responsible for payment. The manager came out and was more than happy to rent six more of his rooms for the next three nights. She explained that they would check out Monday morning to drive back to Seattle.

  Isabella realized that she would need to buy a larger vehicle, and decided that she would either purchase or rent an RV. She would take the children back to Snoqualt, where she felt sure that the local sheriff’s department would be honest, and Shirley Pierson would help her, as well. She drove to the motel and was happy to see that once again the clerk was nowhere to be seen. She had warned the children that they needed to be very quiet when they went to their rooms. She put an older child in each room. She wanted to take the two injured teenage girls into her room but she just couldn’t. She needed them to take care of the infants. She took a three-year-old, a four-year-old and Victor into the room with her. She waited until they were asleep, then she went to the bathroom and cleaned her wound.

  “Miss Isabella.” Victor knocked on the door.

  “I’ll be out in a moment.”

  “I need to go to the bathroom,” Victor said.

  She opened the door, and he saw the wound on her lower leg.

  “Ah, damn!”

  “Do not curse.”

  “That’s really bad.”

  “I know. But it is getting better.” She ducked her head, hoping the boy would not realize that she was lying. He looked at her, but didn’t say anything. She limped out of the bathroom so that he could do his business. When he came out, he helped her to re-bandage the wound.

  “Victor, you can’t tell the others, they’ll just worry. I just need to sleep. I haven’t been sleeping because I have been worried.”

  “I understand, and I promise I won’t tell.”


  They each went to one of the double beds and slept with one of the young children.

  * * * *

  “Carmen, she won’t wake up.”

  “Shhh, Victor, let me think. Show me the cuts. Oh God, these are infected. We need to take her to a doctor.”

  “Then they will find us. She said that it was getting better. She said she just needed to sleep.” Isabella realized it was Victor talking.

  “Yes,” she said weakly, “I’m getting better, just need to rest. Water please, I’m thirsty.” Carmen came back with a glass of water, and helped her to sit up so she could drink it.

  “Miss Isabella, you are very sick. You have a fever. We need to take you to a doctor.”

  “Not here. We need to get back to Snoqualt. Carmen, I am already feeling better after sleep,” Isabella lied again. Perhaps she was getting better at lying. Carmen helped her to lie back down on the bed. “What time is it?”

  “It’s nine o’clock Saturday morning.”

  Isabella thought about it. “Get my purse.”

  Carmen brought it to her. “Can you really drive, Carmen?”

  “Yes, Miss Isabella.”

  “Here is my ATM card.” Isabella took the card from her wallet, and also took out a notebook from her purse, and with a trembling hand wrote down the pin number and gave it to the girl. “Get money from the ATM and get food for everyone.”

  “How much money?”

  “Get four hundred dollars. It is the maximum amount allowed. You might need it, so take it all.” Isabella watched as the girls eyes got wide.

  “That is too much money.”

  “Carmen, do as I tell you.” Isabella tried to make her voice sound firm, but she was too weak to succeed. “There are restaurants and a shopping center on the highway that we drove on last night. Go there, it will be safe. Take one of the other girls with you.”

  “I don’t know.” Carmen’s voice wavered.

 

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