“Where are they taking us?” Ken asked fearfully.
“Does it matter?” Davie replied. “They’ll bring us back in the morning, work us to death, then do the same thing all over again.”
Or not, if Slade and Maddox are tracking us.
Vin must have had the same thought because he squeezed Davie’s fingers, whispering so softly Davie could barely hear him over the sound of the trunk as it barreled down the highway, “One more day of this, so we have what we need. Then they’ll ride to the rescue.”
“Let’s hope we make it that long,” Davie whispered back. Now that he was lying down, every muscle in his body was protesting the work he’d been forced to do.
“Wuss,” Vin murmured, a trace of laughter in the word.
“If we were anywhere but here, I’d prove I’m not,” Davie retorted.
“I know.” Vin squeezed his fingers again. “We’d better get some sleep. We’re going to need it.”
Davie knew he was right. Keeping his fingers curled through the wire so Vin could hold them, he closed his eyes. It took a long while for sleep to come, but finally it did in spite of the moans and sobs he heard, as well as Ken’s low but vehement swearing which eventually tapered off, much to Davie’s relief.
* * * *
The second day of their slavery went much as the first one, with one exception. Now there were eight of them. The van pulled up moments after the truck had taken them back to the corn fields. Three teens, all close to Davie’s age he thought, got out. They were put through the same routine as the others had been the previous day, having their IDs taken and leaving their backpacks in the van, and then Butch ordered everyone to start working. After an hour in the hot sun, everyone had stripped off their shirts, tying them around their waists.
Around noon, one of the newcomers asked where lunch was.
“You get fed tonight,” Butch replied.
“Yeah? Then I’m out of here,” the teen replied, starting to walk toward the road.
“Me, too,” Ken said, looking defiantly at Butch. “You can’t stop me.”
Butch whistled and moments later the van driver appeared, a club in one hand. “Trouble?”
“Yeah, this one,” Butch pointed to Ken, “needs to be taught a lesson. Hold him.”
“With pleasure.”
Ken broke into a run. The driver had no problem catching him, pulling his arms behind his back when he had. Then Butch began administering a beating until Ken’s face was bloody and his chest was covered with bruises. When the driver let go of him, he fell to the ground, curled in a fetal position.
“Anyone else want to walk?” Butch asked, looking pointedly at the teen who had first said he was leaving. When no one replied, Butch ordered them to get back to work. “That means you, too,” Butch said, pulling Ken to his feet.
“Damn, man,” Vin spat out. “He in no condition…” His words were cut short when the driver hit him hard in the ribs with the club.
“Anyone else have anything to say?” Butch asked with a feral grin.
Davie had a lot to say, but kept quiet. He went to Vin instead, helping him straighten up and walk back to where they’d been working before everything had gone down. “Did he break your ribs?” he asked.
Vin shook his head. “Don’t think so. Fractured, maybe. Given what my dad’s punks did to me, this is nothing.”
Davie wasn’t certain he believed him, but there wasn’t a thing he could do right then other than suggest Vin fake weed pulling. “I’ll do enough for both of us, so they won’t know.” Vin seemed as if he was going to protest—until he bent to pull a few weeds then bit down on his lip in an obvious attempt not to cry out in pain.
By mid-afternoon the sky began to cloud over and soon it was raining hard. Butch called a halt to for the day, telling them the truck would be there by the time they got back to the van.
“Now’s when we need Slade to ride to the rescue,” Davie whispered to Vin, who was obviously still hurting. He glanced at Ken, relieved to see that two of the teens were helping him walk out of the field.
“Tonight, we hope,” Vin replied under his breath.
“They should have set up an abort signal,” Davie muttered.
“But they didn’t, so we’re in it until the end.”
“You two want to keep up?” Butch called out. “Or do you need a lesson in obeying like your friend got?”
Vin and Davie walked faster, almost catching up with the others as the semi came into view. As if it was fated, the rain tapered off and a shaft of light from the lowering sun broke through the clouds, lighting the interior of the semi’s cab.
“Fuck,” Vin spat out. Grabbing Davie’s hand he said, “Run.”
Without a thought, Davie did as Vin said, heading back into the field. The last thing he saw was the semi coming to the stop as the passenger side door was flung open. A man jumped out, yelling, “Don’t try it, Vincente!” as he raced toward them.
“Down,” Vin ordered, dropping to his hands and knees between the rows of corn with a gasp of pain. “Stay low. Try not to touch the stalks.”
Easier said than done, Davie found out, but he did his best. He was certain if he didn’t and the man saw the cornstalks move, he’d know right where they were. He could hear footsteps behind them, and Butch called out, “They went that way.” There was the sound of more people coming after them.
Davie’s knee hit a rock and he bit back a gasp. Then, he picked the rock up and heaved it as far as he could—considering he was crawling, not walking.
“There,” someone shouted, and the footsteps moved away.
Feeling around in what was now near darkness; Davie found another rock and threw it in the same direction. He saw Vin crawl in the opposite direction and followed, still being careful not to rustle the cornstalks.
“Lay down,” Vin whispered several minutes later. Davie obeyed and saw why as a flashlight lit the area a few yards to their left. He prayed the darkness and the fact they were now covered with mud would be enough to hide them.
After what felt like hours, although he knew it wasn’t nearly that long, Davie heard the sound of sirens.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” someone, Davie thought it was Butch, hollered.
By then, Davie saw flashing lights from more than one police car when he lifted his head to peer between two long rows of corn. He heard the semi’s motor rev up and saw its headlights. There was a screech of tires, then the sound of a gun shot followed by, “Police. Turn off the motor and get out with your hands over your heads. We have you surrounded.”
Davie started to get up, only to have Vin pull him down. “Wait until we know it’s safe,” Vin whispered. “If one of them is still out here…” Davie got the message.
It seemed to take forever before they heard, “Vin, Davie, it’s Slade. It’s safe to come out now.”
Davie wondered for a second how Slade knew they were still around, until he realized the tracking implant would have let him know exactly where they were. Standing, Davie offered his hand to help Vin get up, cringing at the muffled cry of pain from his friend when he did. Slowly, with Vin’s arm over Davie’s shoulders, they made their way back to the road where Slade and a myriad of police officers were waiting.
Chapter 9
The police allowed Slade to take Vin and Davie into the city after getting their statements about what had gone down. Slade drove them directly to the hospital where an ER doctor checked the damage to Vin’s ribs—telling him two of them fractured but not broken—then gave him a prescription for painkillers, which they filled at the hospital’s pharmacy.
Soon, Davie and Vin were sitting in Slade’s car, after brushing as much of the dried dirt off as they could, despite Slade telling them not to worry about it.
They knew, because Slade had told them, that Ken was already in one of the hospital rooms, recovering from the beating he’d sustained from Butch. “We were tracking you, of course,” Slade explained. “When we saw you were m
oving fast but not like you were in a vehicle, we alerted the police to tell them you were undoubtedly in trouble and it was time to close in on the truck.”
“Big trouble,” Vin muttered. “That’s some tracking device.”
“Only the best,” Slade replied with a brief smile. “We like to keep our people safe.”
That piqued Davie’s interest, but he decided now was not the time to ask. Instead, he rested his arms on the back of the front seat, looking at Vin as he said, “I take it that man was one of your father’s people.”
“Paulie. Yeah.” Vin turned to Slade. “Is my father involved? Does he run this? If he does, is that why you brought me in to stop it?” He sounded angrier with each question.
“Calm down,” Slade told him. “We won’t know if your father’s involved until the police interrogate Mister Bello. Believe me, if we even thought he was, you’re the last person we’d have involved in stopping the slavers.”
Obviously Vin wasn’t ready to believe him. “Really? I’d be the perfect person to draw him out.”
“He’s right,” Davie said, staring hard a Slade. He didn’t want to believe Slade would be that nefarious but…
“Ease it up, both of you,” Slade said. “I’m not stupid.” He smiled briefly. “Although right now you might not believe it. Vin, you knew when I first brought you into this that there was a slight possibility you might run into someone working for your father. That’s why I held off using you until now. I hoped you father would have given up trying to find you.”
Vin blew out a breath. “Okay, I’ll give you that. It doesn’t explain why Paulie was there and obviously looking for me.”
“They took your ID,” Slade replied. “Since he’s part of the slaver organization, whether working for you father or otherwise, he could have, probably did see your license. The name on it isn’t yours, but the photo is. Despite the disguise, he recognized you and knew he’d hit pay dirt.”
“That makes sense, I guess.”
“I have a question,” Davie said. “The way you’re talking, Slade, it sounds like you do more than help homeless teens, and that Vin’s involved in…whatever it is.”
“Told you he was smart,” Vin said. “He does, and I am. So are you, now, if you want to be a part of it, too.”
Davie frowned. “Does Grey know?”
“He does,” Slade replied as he started the car. “He is, was my eyes on the street, and not only to find kids who were really in trouble.”
“Now it’s Pace,” Davie said. “Hell, is everyone at the Encampment part of what’s going on?”
“Not all of them. Not yet anyway. Guys like Lon, Buzz, and Will probably never will be. The Encampment is there to do exactly what it was set up for, to keep guys like you who have major problems safe until the problems are dealt with. We keep what we do as a sideline, so to speak, a secret until we’re certain whomever we’re interested in can handle being involved.” Slade glanced at Davie in the rearview mirror and smiled. “When that happens, the training starts.”
By then they were on the street, and soon on the highway. Neither Vin nor Slade spoke and Davie had the feeling they were giving him a chance to absorb everything they’d told him. Do they want me as a part of this? Duh. They wouldn’t have said anything if they didn’t. He put his hand on Vin’s shoulder to get his attention. “You didn’t tell me because you couldn’t, right?”
Vin nodded. “You had to find out for yourself what might be involved. Well, you knew, but you had to see it first hand. Same with me to an extent. This was the first job I’ve done for Slade but I’d already seen a lot thanks to my father, so I knew more or less what to expect. Other than Paulie showing up, of course.” He shot Slade a dour look. “You better not be scamming me about that.”
“I’m not,” Slade replied. “I told you the truth when I said we were sending you in to learn who was running the slave ring. We wanted the ones in charge, not the small fry. Butch, whose real name is Nate Thorne, is one of them from what the other men told the police.” He shook his head. “Rats, fleeing a sinking ship would be the best way to describe them, as fast as they ratted Butch out. Paulie is still a cipher to some extent but we’ll find out exactly how involved he is, and if your father is as well, Vin.”
“Can you arrest him, if he is?” Vin asked.
“Arrest?” Slade gave a sharp nod. “Yes. Whether it sticks depends on how good his lawyers are.”
Vin puffed out a breath. “Damned good.”
“I’m sure.”
It took Davie a moment to realize which way they were heading. “We’re going back to the Encampment?”
“Yes,” Slade replied. “You’ll be safe there, and it’ll give you time to process what happened and decide what you want to do.”
“Okay. I don’t suppose someone got our backpacks, well everyone’s backpacks out of the van. For most of those guys they hold everything they own. And what about their IDs? I don’t need mine because it was fake. My real one’s in my pack. And what’s happening with them? The guys, I mean. I’m rambling, aren’t I?”
Vin chuckled. “Yep, because you’re tired and still coming down from all the excitement.”
“Excitement? Fear’s more like it,” Davie muttered.
“The police got everything that the slavers took from all of you, Davie, before the van was towed to the impound yard. Your backpacks are in my trunk. As for the other guys, they’re on their way to one of my shelters and will stay there until they’ve recuperated physically and emotionally. When Butch and his crew go to trial, some of them may be called as witnesses.”
Davie sucked in a breath. “Me and Vin, too?”
“I’ll do my best to see that doesn’t happen. Vin for his own safety, and both of you because you won’t be much use to us if people know who you are and what you look like.”
“Makes sense,” Davie replied, yawning.
Vin looked back at him and smiled. “Lie down, try to sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there.”
Davie didn’t argue and moments later he was dead to the world.
* * * *
Davie jerked awake, his hands balling into fists, when he felt someone shake his shoulder. It took him a moment to realize it was Vin and that they were back at the Encampment. It was dark, but he could see the first light of dawn silhouetting the trees to the east.
Vin was holding their backpacks. He handed Davie his, saying, “Maddox and Ran want to see us, but not until we’re halfway human again.”
“Meaning in a week?” Davie asked with a quick grin that faded seconds later when he saw pain etched on Vin’s face. “Did you take your painkillers?”
“I will when I get inside.”
“I’m coming with you, to make sure you do.”
“I’m quite capable of taking care of myself,” Vin growled.
Davie shrugged, turning toward the cabin he shared with Grey. “If you say so.” He felt rejected and knew he shouldn’t, but it was there nonetheless.
Vin caught his arm to stop him. “Sorry. That was uncalled for. I wouldn’t mind your company.”
Inexplicably relieved, Davie replied, “You’ve got it.”
Vin’s cabin was small, only one bedroom, but Davie had expected that. What he hadn’t expected were the sketches pinned to one wall. “Jude’s?” he asked.
“Yeah. He gave them to me a few months ago. Said he did them when he was bored because we were snowbound.”
There were three of them, two of cabins half-buried in snow, the third of some of the pine trees surrounding the clearing. Davie smiled when he saw one of the trees had a star at the top. “Must have done that one around Christmas time.”
Vin nodded as he took a bottle of pills from his pocket. Opening it, he got a glass of water to take two of them. “I’m going to lie down,” he said, setting the bottle on the counter.
“Shower first, if you can handle it,” Davie suggested.
“I’ll give it a shot,” Vin replied as he started towa
rd the bedroom. He was trying to pull off his T-shirt, his teeth clenched against the pain. “Shoulda taken the scrubs when they offered them.”
“But you had to be stubborn. Stand still,” Davie ordered, digging into his backpack. He found his penknife then said, “I hope this wasn’t one of your favorites,” as he cut the shirt off Vin.
“Was, but I’ll deal. Not really.” Vin made it into his bedroom and with Davie’s help got out of the rest of his clothes. “Shower later,” he said, collapsing on the bed.
“Okay.” Davie perched on the side after pulling the sheet over Vin. “I’ll be here when you wake up. Well, on the sofa. There’s no room for me on the bed.”
“That will make things difficult when we…” Vin’s words faded out as he fell asleep.
Davie was pretty sure he knew what Vin had meant to say and it didn’t bother him one bit. Smiling to himself, he went into the bathroom, stripped, and took a fast shower. When he finished he got a clean pair of sweats from his backpack, put them on and settled on the sofa. As he drifted off to sleep, he remembered what Vin had said after their first and only time having sex—that he thought Davie was crazy for wanting to hook up with him. “I’m not crazy,” Davie whispered. “We care for each other. I know we do. Somehow, if we can, we’ll make it work.”
* * * *
Vin and Davie were up and moving early Thursday afternoon. Vin had managed to shower after taking two more painkillers, and was dressed in jeans and what he said was his only button-up shirt. “I’m not letting you cut another one off me,” he teased. “I don’t own all that many.”
Davie had insisted on making them sandwiches, and they’d just sat down to eat when there was a knock on the door. Rather than letting Vin get up to answer it, Davie did, expecting it to be either Maddox or Ran. Instead, Grey was standing there.
“Ran said he wants the two of you at his cabin ASAP,” Grey said. He looked past Davie to Vin then gave Davie a knowing look. “Something you want to tell me?”
“Yeah. You’re being nosy.”
The Encampment Page 9
