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Herded
When the van stopped, the bubble of strained silence burst around us. The noise of boots on the gravel outside followed the front doors slamming shut, each fresh thud ratcheting up the prevailing dread. Wherever they were taking us, we were there. Whatever was about to transpire was already happening.
As the back doors were yanked open, I shifted in front of Laurel as far as the thin bench would allow. Whatever was happening, I only had one job—the same role I’d taken on when I’d discovered I was pregnant—to protect my child.
“We’re taking you lot inside.” The same ugly face that had enclosed us in the van greeted us with a scornful snigger. “But we’ve gotta cover you up to get you in.”
“Cover us with what?” Suspicion echoed in Nathanial’s voice.
“These.” He raised the palm that had been hidden behind his back to reveal a handful of black fabric.
“What are those?” My stomach lurched at his insidious inference as my focus drilled into the black fabric, certain of only one thing—nothing good would come from them.
Staring harder, I realized they looked like hats, but I couldn’t understand why he’d want us to wear head coverings to go inside. Hell, we didn’t want to go anywhere but home, and Laurel and I didn’t even have one of those anymore.
Glaring at me, the dick with the sneer leaned closer. “No more fucking questions.”
I recoiled, gulping down my terror as he yanked my arm and dragged me out of the van. Lurching forward, I landed on the grit below with a yelp, peering back anxiously to look for Laurel.
She’d edged farther along the bench, concern etched into her face. “Mum!”
Her desperate tone rattled through me. “It’s okay, sweetheart.” I tried to sound brave as the thug with his grubby hand on my forearm hauled me backward, but inside, I’d already surrendered to my panic, its cold finger creeping along my limbs until it knotted in my core. “It’ll be okay.”
I had no way of knowing that. In fact, as the brute dropped the collection of black fabric to the ground beside me and foisted one over my head, the very opposite scenario was true. Forced into black, my thoughts spun around my head like marbles in a bag.
I can’t breathe!
My eyes widened beneath the hood before my brain instructed my breathing to slow. I did have air. There was just less than before. My thoughts switched reflexively to Laurel as I imagined how petrified she’d be to see her mother treated that way. I had to get my shit together—if not for my sake, then for hers.
“Stay over there.” The same gruff tone spoke as I was pulled sharply to one side.
Without my sight or the use of my hands, I stumbled, colliding in panic with another hard body. The grim chuckle the impact inspired sent a fresh wave of alarm coursing through me. Whoever these men were, I didn’t want them anywhere near me or Laurel, but bound and hooded, there was nothing I could do to stop them. The sense of powerlessness was pulverizing.
“Dave, get the next one out, will you? We don’t get paid until they’re all delivered.”
Delivered?
Revulsion laced my trepidation at his horrific insinuation. The verb made it sound as though we were commodities to be traded for money and confirmed my feelings that these thugs were not real representatives of the state. More likely, they were mercenaries hired by the authorities—men who were paid to take citizens by force. The worst kind of people possible.
“Mum!” Laurel’s frightened gasp captured my attention, though in the hood, it was difficult to identify which direction her voice came from.
“I’m here.” I turned my head, frantic to comfort her, but not knowing how.
“I said, fucking quiet!” The warning sounded like it was hissed right into my face, and instinctively, I backed straight into another person—presumably the same odious jerk who’d laughed at me before.
Unnerved and confused, I heaved in air, compelling the hood right against my face, which only sparked more fear.
“Hurry!” Another male voice called out from somewhere else. “This is taking too long.”
I remained rooted to the spot, not daring to move as I heard movement on either side of me, though at the same time loathing my cowardice. Laurel was right there with me, somewhere, blindfolded and afraid. I should have been brave enough to speak up and demand justice—she was only a kid, for God’s sake—yet my lips stayed shut. The fear of the thugs’ repercussions insisted on my silence, though even as I was pushed forward, I hated myself for it.
“This way, ladies and gentleman!”
There was little time to dwell on the sick declaration as strange hands grabbed at me. Hauled in one direction or another by unseen fingers, I wondered if Laurel was okay and if Sally and Nathanial had been hooded and were being dragged as well. I could only assume so. There hadn’t been a word from either of them since I was plucked from the back of the truck, and Nathanial’s quiet in particular worried me. He was always such a vocal and experienced contributor to any situation. Maybe his hush meant he’d genuinely given up, but I refused to believe it. Nathanial had defended me for so long. Hell, he was only there because he wanted to help, and boy, how he’d more than achieved that purpose in the last couple of days. Without him, I might never have made it off that damn platform, and even if I had, Laurel and I might never have survived the shooting at school.
The tension in my tummy twisted tighter. I owed Nathanial. I owed him big time.
If he’s given up, what does that mean?
Cold dread fused as the answer unfolded in my head. If Nathanial had given up, it meant we were all screwed.
***
I WINCED AS I WAS SHOVED onto what seemed like a chair. The back of my thighs contacted with something hard, and as two unwelcome hands pressed down on my shoulders, the surface seemed to be stable.
“Stay, bitch!”
My eyes squeezed closed at the insult. There was something all too familiar about the ugly tone, but I noticed how the vocabulary just bounced off me. I no longer took the words personally because I knew better. Those were the words of weak-willed men. Only insecure cretins like Sam needed to make someone else feel small in order to make themselves feel bigger.
Weak and pathetic little men.
I’d fought my way out of Sam’s nightmare, and I’d thought we’d be free, but evidently, I’d got things badly wrong. Not only was I a captive again, but Laurel was surely in more danger than ever before.
Biting down on my lower lip, I refused to allow my tears to fall. Whoever the pricks with the bad tempers were, I wasn’t crying for them. I had to stay strong—for Laurel. I didn’t think she was there with me anymore and a part of me couldn’t bear to think what they might mean, but losing my sanity then and there wouldn’t help her.
Keep it together.
The journey to wherever this new place was had been arduous. With only muted sounds and my rising terror for company, I had no way of knowing if Laurel was safe. All I’d known was that at some point, we’d entered a building. The echoing sound of our footsteps reinforced the point, as did the sudden lack of gravel underfoot. Beyond that, I knew nothing, but my senses told me my daughter was no longer in the vicinity. The idea that she might have been carted off in another direction by one of the revolting men speared me again, temporarily robbing me of breath.
“Stay with her.” Another stern voice floated through the suffocating hood. It wasn’t even that warm outside, but trapped inside its dark confines, I was red-faced and frantic for fresh air. “He’ll want to talk to her first.”
I heard what sounded like a door closing, then the faint echo of footsteps.
He? I stiffened, unsure what to think. Who’s he?
They couldn’t be talking about Nathanial. He was a prisoner as much as I was, but I didn’t know any of the other men, did I? As my breaths sped up, a fresh and overpowering paranoia crept up on me. Maybe I did know someone else... or maybe he thought he knew me.
“Won’t be long now, darling.” The unknown man’s dark chuckle reverberated around, convincing me that I must have been moved to a confined space. Even in the hood, the way the sound bounced around was telling. “The boss will be so pleased to see you.”
Fuck you.
Grinding my teeth together, I just managed to hold the words in. The longer I sat there, the more anger furled amongst my fear. Yes, I was worried sick about Laurel, and yes, I didn’t know what would happen to either of us, but suddenly, all I could think was, how dare those men treat us this way?
They have no right!
How dare they bind us and cover our face? How dare they take us against our will? None of this was right. Fisting my cuffed hands, I dug my nails into my palms. There was something strangely soothing about the abrupt burst of pain, as though it reminded me that I was still alive—that I was a woman with rights and a mind of her own.
My heart rate galloped faster at the sound of the door opening again, though I straightened on my seat. Cuffs or no cuffs, whoever ‘he’ was, I was fucking ready for him.