by RH Fox
The man now facing the armed group had obviously not grasped the new hierarchy of power yet. He angrily gestured toward the bridge and reached into his pocket, probably assuming money still held value.
“No, no, no.” Dreia closed her eyes and flinched when the shots rang out.
The woman’s screams echoed across the water and she opened her eyes. The large, heavily tattooed man who seemed to be in charge motioned for one of the other guys to roll the father’s lifeless body into the water. A short stocky man tried to pull the boy out of the woman’s death grip. She released him in alarm when a gun was put to his head.
Dreia covered her mouth to keep from crying out as the tattooed man advance on the woman, who stumbled backward and fell to the ground, eyes never leaving her son. The large man grabbed her hair and roughly yanked her up, groping her suggestively. The woman struggled to break away at first, but a few words from the man holding her son made her freeze. These men understood maternal fear trumped dignity almost every time. The thug must have been satisfied with his search because both mother and son were marched toward the small strip mall near the bridge, just out of sight due to the thick trees lining the water.
Located about a quarter mile down the road, most of the businesses in the ancient building had rental signs hanging in their dusty windows. From a bit of careful scouting earlier, she’d been able to tell only two units were being used by the men controlling the bridge. The tiny neighborhood market at the end was being treated as a private pantry, and a realty office a few doors down had been turned into a holding cell for the women they collected. They had a makeshift camp in a small clearing next to the market and Dreia had quickly concluding it was a motorcycle club of some sort, from the leather vests with patches. She couldn’t make out the name, though.
Just after sunrise, she’d watched as several women, a few children and large boxes from the market were loaded into the back of an old moving truck. Certain she knew what was in store for the women, she prayed the children were simply a means to ensure their cooperation.
Of the four other women Dreia had watched being forcibly detained earlier, two had been mothers. One had become immediately docile once her children were threatened. The other would forever be burned into Dreia’s memory, right next to the vision of Tag laying in the street.
Dreia backed slowly into the dense overgrowth and settled under a tree, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths as the horror she’d witnessed replayed vividly in her mind. Fresh tears built as she tried to block the image of the baby carrier sinking into the canal, the toddler standing on the bank not understanding what was happening, and the young mother who became unhinged when her baby’s cries were cut off by the water. She’d fought the men, biting and kicking hysterically, until one had roughly pushed her into the water as well. The men had radiated pure evil as they placed bets on how long the woman would last. Dreia was left to watch helplessly, frozen in a nightmare, as the desperate mother disappeared under the water repeatedly, searching for her baby.
Even with limitless energy, there was no chance she could have found that carrier in the filthy canal. After years of disuse, the vegetation was out of control and the surface was covered in disgusting green slime. When the woman was too exhausted to continue and struggled back to the side, the men had viciously tossed her young daughter into the water, too. Using the last of her strength to swim out and wrap the remaining child in her arms, Dreia had watched them disappear beneath the water together, eerily silent.
Fear and anger made Dreia’s stomach churn as she fought to hold down what little she’d eaten earlier. Images that would haunt her for the rest of her life were accumulating too fast.
She put her head in her hands and thought about her children, using them to anchor her to the purpose for being where she was. Watching families being ripped apart steeled her determination to make it home to protect her own. Abbie was incredibly smart and twice as stubborn. Despite their constant bickering, she’d make sure Chase was safe until she or Matt arrived. On top of that, Dreia had no doubt that Abbie’s best friend Tyler would be watching over them both. He tried to hide it, but a mother could tell when a boy was interested in more than just friendship with her daughter. Reminding herself again that her kids wouldn’t be dealing with this by themselves helped calm her further.
Dreia tried to refocus on the task at hand. Instead, her husband filled her mind.
“Matt, where are you?” she whispered.
It wasn’t a good sign that the scum of the Earth were taking control barely two days after the grid was destroyed. These men certainly embodied her definition of pure evil, and it was closer than she’d ever been to it in her life. Dreia spent all day wracking her brain to figure out how to cross this canal without becoming a victim herself.
Finding another route was not an option. It would take at least a day to backtrack to the closest bridge on foot, with no guarantee it would be any safer. Her search for some sort of boat had turned up nothing usable, and there was no way she was risking a dive into that water. Even the smallest infection from something in that disgusting filth could very well be a death sentence now.
Dreia slumped against the tree, out of ideas and time. It was obvious there was only one way across the canal and putting it off was only delaying things. With that thought she stood up, slid the pistol into the holster at the small of her back, and grabbed her bag. Without a backward glance she strode resolutely out of the woods and onto the bridge, straight toward the two men turning their guns and lecherous smiles in her direction.
12
Dreia squared her shoulders, wiped her sweaty palms on her pants and took a deep breath.
The huge man with full sleeves inked on both arms whistled, “Well, well, look what we have here.”
Dreia stopped mid-bridge and raised her hands out to the sides, palms up.
“I’m just trying to get home, fellas.”
“Then you have a problem, darlin’, cuz this is our bridge now, and no one crosses without paying my toll.”
Dreia tensed as he and his shorter companion closed in. Her eyes took in every detail, hoping to find something she could use to her benefit. They were younger than they’d originally appeared, only in their late twenties or early thirties. In addition to the tattooed arms, an elaborate dragon curved up from under the larger guy’s white t-shirt and around the side of his neck. His black hair brushed the collar and Dreia was surprised to note he was clean shaven. Apparently those at the top of the food chain still had the time and resources to worry about details like that. In direct contrast, the shorter guy had a full beard while his hair was buzzed close to his scalp. He had several tattoos as well, but none as intricate as the other man’s. Both men wore leather vests with patches and held rifles pointed directly at her midsection.
“I don’t have much money.”
“What the hell would I do with money now?” the larger guy laughed, his eyes traveling slowly over Dreia before meeting hers again. “I’m sure we can come to some sort of arrangement. For starters, toss your bag over to Z here, nice and slow.”
Dreia could tell he was enjoying this. Her mind raced to figure out how to avoid handing the backpack over. The .38 felt reassuring under the weight of the bag, and she calculated her chances of getting it out and firing before they realized what she was up to. Eyeing their rifles again, she concluded the odds weren’t good. However, as soon as the speed loaders were discovered, they’d no doubt search her and take the weapon, too.
“Now!” the man barked, losing patience.
Dreia narrowed her eyes and slowly shrugged the straps off, tossing it to the ground in front of them. The quiet guy shouldered his rifle and knelt to dig through it.
“Okay, you’ve got all my supplies. I think that’s a fair toll, so I’ll be on my way.” Dreia tried to sound confident. She lowered her arms and shuffled sideways with every intention of passing them.
“Not so fast, sweetheart. Anything good, Z?”
The guy digging through the bag grunted a negative sound. He’d already finished the largest compartment and moved on to the outside pockets. Dreia watched as he neared the one that held the speed loaders and her body tensed, waiting for the discovery.
With only one gun currently pointed her direction, Dreia figured this might the best shot she’d have at escape. If she was ballsy enough to chance it. The image of Abbie and Chase waiting for her at home nudged her into action. She slowly inched her hand behind her back while the men were preoccupied with the bag. Her heart rate accelerated. As soon as she fired a shot, it would only be seconds before others came running. Sweat broke out when her hand brushed the pistol grip and she firmly grasped it.
Suddenly, the sound of an engine echoed through the trees. Everyone’s head jerked toward the noise and the men’s rifles followed. Dreia backed to the side of the bridge, planning to make a run for it while they were distracted by the new arrival.
“I don’t think so,” the tattooed man snapped, bringing his rifle back to her. “Z, take her over to the office, and tell Mark and Shane to get out here. We’ll deal with her later.”
Z swung her backpack over his shoulder and quickly closed the distance between them. He roughly grabbed her arm, dragging her with him toward the strip mall. Dreia half jogged to keep up, turning her head back to see what was happening. An old van pulling onto the bridge was the last thing she saw before the trees cut off her view.
“Where are you taking me?” Dreia asked, trying to sound clueless. They didn’t need to know she’d been watching them all day.
He completely ignored her, instead calling out to two men standing near the grocery store. They both grabbed guns leaning up against the brick storefront and hightailed it to the bridge. Z stopped in front of the realty office and frowned down at the man slouched against the wall next to the door. Finally, he kicked his leg angrily.
“Wake up, dumbass! What the hell are you doing sleeping on duty?”
The man roused, but took his time getting to his feet. Older than the others, he only had a handgun holstered to his right leg.
“Give me a break, Z. I had perimeter duty last night and I’m exhausted. Besides, it’s not like any of these dumb bitches are going to try anything. They’re scared shitless.”
“Doesn’t matter. Wayne told you to watch the door. If he catches you sleeping, he’ll put a bullet in your head and roll you into the canal. Even if you are Jimmy’s cousin.”
“Yeah, right. And lose the promotion he’s been kissing Jimmy’s ass to get?”
“You’re not bullshittin’ anyone, O’Neal. After your little run-in with the Angels, you’re as low on the totem pole as it gets, and everyone knows it. You’re lucky Jimmy didn’t completely strip you of your patch after you ruined his plans. Hell, you mess up again and I won’t be surprised if he shoots you himself. So, don’t act like your family connections carry any weight. Now, put this one inside with the others and finish looking through her shit. I’m heading back to the bridge.”
Dreia and her bag were shoved at the other man. Z turned and jogged back toward the bridge. The new guy opened the glass door and pushed her ahead of him into the shadowy office.
It took several seconds for her eyes to adjust. The blinds covering the floor to ceiling windows were all closed, and the man at her back blocked the only light coming through the door. As the room came into focus, Dreia found herself in a lobby that held a receptionist’s desk and several waiting room chairs. The rear of the office was divided into four cubicles, two on each side, and separated by a hall leading down the center. They were surrounded by cheap, carpet covered partitions about about six feet high, leaving the cubicles open at the top.
Dreia could hear sniffling coming from the furthest cubicle on the right side. The man, cursing under his breath, gave her another push and tossed her bag onto a chair by the door. Outwardly she feigned disinterest, but inside she was giddy over the negligence.
“So, what am I supposed to do in here?” she asked innocently.
“I don’t care what you do, bitch. Don’t cause any trouble and I won’t kill you,” he grabbed his gun for emphasis, then turned and went back outside. Her bag remained in the chair.
Dreia forced herself to stay frozen and counted slowly to a hundred. Finally, after a nervous glance over her shoulder into the dark office, she took slow steps back to the door. Careful not to get too close, she angled herself off to the left to peek outside. A leg stretched out along the ground, exactly where the man had been sitting before, rewarded her effort.
She quickly made a wide circle around the light spilling in and crossed to her backpack. Ears alert and eyes trained on the door the whole time, she felt around for the pocket holding her spare ammunition. Her heart felt like it was going to thump right out of her chest as she retrieved the circular loaders and dropped the reassuring heaviness into her coat pocket. Then, she moved back to the middle of the room and took several deep breaths.
“What are you doing?” a loud whisper broke the silence.
Dreia jumped and muffled a squeak of surprise with her hand. Turning, she could barely make out a head peeking over the partition of the last cubicle. It was so dark she couldn’t tell anything about the speaker, other than it was female. She exhaled a sigh of relief and went to the doorway of that office.
There were four women and three children huddled on the ground inside the tiny area. The woman whose husband had recently been shot was still sniffling, holding her son tightly and rocking back and forth. The two other children Dreia had seen earlier were sitting silently in their mother’s lap, fear prominent on all three of their faces. Another woman was half-heartedly trying to console the crier while the fourth was most likely in shock, staring at the wall with glazed eyes. After taking them all in, Dreia shifted her attention to a teenager standing between a big desk and an office chair pushed up against the carpeted partition.
The girl was about Abbie’s age, wearing skinny jeans and a t-shirt with a familiar band logo. Her long blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, doing nothing to hide the ugly bruises covering the side of her face. They were easy to see even in the shadows and Dreia made a sound of dismay, taking a few steps toward her. The teen backed completely out of reach.
“What were you doing in that bag?” the girl whispered harshly, thrusting her chin up. “You’re going to get us all in trouble!”
Dreia glanced at the three alert women listening silently.
“I needed something.”
“It’s not your stuff anymore. Give it to me so I can put it back before they find out,” the teenager held her hand out.
“No.”
“If you don’t, I’m going to tell them you took it. I’m not getting in trouble because some old cow’s too stupid to be afraid.”
Dreia moved to block the office doorway, not about to hand over the loaders. The girl’s chest expanded as she opened her mouth to yell.
“Stop! Wait! I might be able to get us out of here,” Dreia hissed.
That got the girl’s attention. She closed her mouth and stared at Dreia through suspicious eyes. “What do you mean?”
“What happened to your face?”
The teenager stubbornly clamped her lips together.
“How old are you? My daughter’s seventeen. She’s at home right now, waiting for me. Where are your parents?”
The girl laughed sharply, taken off guard by the unexpected concern. “That’s a good question. I haven’t seen them since I became their toll payment yesterday morning.”
It took Dreia a moment to grasp what she was hearing. “Your parents handed you over to these men and just left you?”
“I paid their toll and they got to keep their piece of shit car. I guess I was finally good for something after all.”
Dreia struggled to comprehend the notion of trading her children for anything, let alone her own safety. Her mouth opened and closed, words failing her.
“They’re pr
obably pulled over on some backwoods road right now, leading a revival for anyone gullible enough to hand over something of value just to hear their soul will be saved from the judgment being rained down upon the Earth.”
Dreia could hear the mocking bitterness in the girl’s voice as it took on the lilting cadence of a preacher and fought the urge to go wrap her arms around the child.
“What’s your name?” she asked gently.
The girl hesitated, eyes slitted suspiciously, before answering, “Carrie.”
“If you were taken yesterday, why weren’t you with the group of women and children I saw being put on a truck this morning?” Dreia tensed, afraid she already knew the answer. The fresh bruising on the girl’s face told a story.
“Because I was last night’s entertainment and I reckon they decided to keep me around.”
Dreia sucked in her breath. The mother with children on her lap joined the other one’s sniffling.
Carrie put her hands on her hips and repeated, “What did you mean you can get us out of here?”
Not sure how much to divulge, Dreia inspected the group of women in front of her more closely. Only Carrie and the woman tepidly trying to comfort the two mothers looked like they had enough wits left to function, let alone be any help in an escape attempt. Dreia sighed. There was no way she could leave these children behind, though, so she had to come up with something.
“You’ve been here the longest, how much do you know about this place?” she asked the teen. “How many men are here?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been in here the whole time, except for last night when they took me to the back office in the market.” Dreia cringed at the girl’s emotionless tone.
“How many,” Dreia struggled to make herself say it, “did you see last night?”
“Seven.”
Dreia’s eyes widened and she heard horrified gasps from the group on the floor.
“Okay,” she continued, fighting back angry tears. “While I watched them today, two were always on the bridge and one’s outside this door, which leaves at least four others unaccounted for. Probably near the market. And there’s six of us.”
