She wasn’t one of them. That was always her conclusion to most any situation but here and now…especially now, she wasn’t a part of this group. It wasn’t really a group. Can one call a gaggle of prisoners a group? A bunch of women and girls thrown together in one terrified mass. They feared them. There were reasons to fear them. Admittedly, she feared them too. But she hated them more than she feared them. It started in the beginning, when initially her fear lost its battle to the boiling hate that brewed inside her chest after they did to her what they did to her, over and over again. So that now, when they came at night to take their pick of the begging and pleading women and girls, Paige didn’t slink back against the cold concrete walls and whimper. Instead, she stood; she got up and walked with purposeful strides toward the rapist de jour in the center. If it meant saving one of the younger ones, Cheryl mostly, the horror of what they would do to them, she’d do her part. She’d cast herself to the monsters…until one day she could become the monster herself and kill them to get free.
After waking briefly, she was so disoriented that it came without warning. The pokey lady with the glasses said the nausea was likely to happen. She’d warned her and left her with a bucket and a cold washcloth. Eating too much too soon with pain medication was a tough affair and, because she thought there were others nearby, losing newfound food was often demoralizing as well.
Although it was comforting in a way to have someone care for her after all this time, she couldn’t trust anyone. Not after everything she’d been through. And Paige didn’t belong here. That’s what she kept saying to herself. I don’t belong here. I don’t belong anywhere. I just want to go home.
She didn’t belong amongst these people, just as she didn’t belong with the group of prisoners she’d helped escape. She’d spent so long on her own…the torment never ended but even though she was safe now, her mind was crazed for those lost in the past and one little girl in the present. Cheryl—she had to find her. Every waking minute, she couldn’t stop thinking about her since they’d become separated in the confusion after their escape. She was just a little girl out there on her own and Paige had already tried to leave her caregivers once to find the child.
These people had stopped her out of kindness, she tried to remind herself. The man she called Dalton and the lady with the glasses. Not out of anger…they said she was free to go if she really wanted to but there was a fire, too. The smoke was what chased her to them.
One minute she saw the flames in the distance on a ridge and then the next, she ran blindly downhill, tripping through the dry tinder and scrub, reaching to brace herself from tree trunk to tree trunk through the smoke-filled forest. The heat from the coming blaze chased her from behind as she fled, with the threat of setting her on fire too. She couldn’t help but think they would catch her then and kill her like so many others and abandon the child left in her care. Life was nothing cherished to them. You’re alive, like any other animal, one moment and dead like roadkill the next. She’d seen firsthand how life meant nothing to them. It happened far too often. No one even considered roadkill any longer…they just drove right on by—unless, of course, it meant a meal that might stay down. And then she heard the convoy of trucks along the roadway below. With sheer panic she’d realized she was running right into their trap but then, after peering around the tree cover, she saw them, and they drove different vehicles and wore different clothing than her captors. Inside her mind…she couldn’t be sure but then she saw a woman driving one of the vehicles, she thought she might trust these people. That image was the key. That’s what made her make a split-second decision. Because she’d never in the past six years of her life saw a woman driving anything at all. She had to take the chance or die. Despite the pain searing through her body she ran down the incline and landed in a heap in front of the loaded vehicles.
Then, screeching tires, shouts and loud footfalls. She instinctively rolled to her side on the dusty asphalt and covered her arms over her head as she drew her knees to her chest. With her elbows clenched tight across her face, she’d expected to hear Arabic but for the first time in years, the shouts were in English, a language she nearly thought lost in what wasn’t a foreign land.
It was the man named Dalton who said, “Hey, hey! We’re not going to hurt you. Don’t struggle. Come on. You can’t stay here. The fire’s coming.”
When she felt him take hold of her arms, she’d yanked free of his grasp in a violent, twisted instant, creating space between her and him. She was ready to fight despite her bloody palms and broken body.
She’d stood, her knees bloody and trembling. The man held his hands up, palms facing her. She held her forearms in front of her, elbows in as her brother always taught her, ready for a strike.
The man pointed to the north. She followed his line of sight. That was all she remembered for a short time, the rolling blaze of a coming inferno. He didn’t give her a choice then. He snatched her up with the aid of distraction, pinning her arms against her sides. And then with the effort, all went dark. A few moments later she woke in the back of their truck.
“You’re okay. You’re okay,” the woman she later came to know as Clarisse said. “You passed out. We’re here to help you but we have to move. Listen, listen…calm down. Is there anyone else here? We’re you with anyone, before we leave? Are you alone?”
Cheryl…she thought. But no, that wasn’t right. She and Cheryl were separated weeks ago. She had no idea where the girl was now. Miles apart, most likely. Before she knew it, trails of tears she didn’t know she had within her poured down her face.
“Okay, okay,” Clarisse said, patting her leg. “Listen…you’re safe here with us. No one’s going to hurt you. What’s your name?”
Her voice…it was lost for so long. The name burned within her. She swallowed and tried anyway. It came out so foreign. Few in this new world even knew her name. “Paige,” she’d said but saying so sounded like a lie. She was no longer Paige. Paige was her brother’s little sister. The troubled teen. She was no longer Paige. Her brother Lincoln was dead now, no longer there to protect her. And she was no longer Paige but someone else. Was it a dream? Was her mind trying to right wrongs too unbearable to view again in a living day?
The woman came into the room, and even though something smelled wonderful, Paige couldn’t open her eyes. Whatever was in that needle kept her just below the veil. Despite that, Paige could tell she was their prisoner now. Someone else was there standing guard. That’s right…they didn’t let me leave. She wanted to wake up. She wanted to escape. She also wanted whatever it was that smelled so good, but she just couldn’t move.
That was hours ago, and now it was dark and wherever she was, there was a raging storm out there from the sounds of it. As she sat up, Paige saw lantern light coming from the half-closed doorway. There was someone on the other side. Removing the covers, Paige carefully placed one foot on the cold floor and realized she wasn’t wearing her own clothes anymore. Well, that’s embarrassing, she thought. Instead, she was in a plain white t-shirt and someone else’s pajama pants. Lifting the hemline because she couldn’t bear wondering how they did it, she found she wasn’t wearing any undergarments. Okay…well, I guess that was nice of them. Feeling as if she wasn’t totally violated. That’s when she realized she still had an IV hanging out of one arm and the other one was in a Velcro cast. Great. Gritting her teeth, she soundlessly removed the tape holding the needle in place and winced while pulling the needle out of her arm. Dammit, that hurt.
That’s when she realized there was someone else in the room, in a bed right next to hers. Another prisoner? Glancing at the doorway and seeing no one there, she took the few steps to the other bed, testing her balance. In the dim light, she could tell the small form likely belonged to a child and when she got closer she saw the familiar dark short hair, though the child lay facing the wall.
It couldn’t be! Could it? Cheryl?
She reached for the covers and carefully pulled them down. Her heart hammered inside her chest. She pushed the child’s hair away from her face and then her hand swung to her mouth to keep from screaming out. Her legs threatened to collapse beneath her.
Cheryl! What the hell is going on here?
Despite using every shred of strength remaining in her weakened state to stay calm, tears streamed down her face. Weeks…it’s been weeks since I lost you.
The child continued to sleep peacefully while Paige stared for what seemed like an hour. I thought you were dead.
Finally, her own breathing normalized. She willed her strength to return and cut her eyes at the doorway. Whoever these people were, they weren’t keeping them here where those bastards would get them again. That wasn’t going to happen ever again if she could help it.
She pulled the covers away from Cheryl and though there was a storm outside, they were getting out of there, together, tonight. Cheryl wore a similar t-shirt only blue and longer. She didn’t have the pajama pants, but Paige was relieved to see she had underwear on.
Paige tiptoed to the doorway and peeked out and that’s when she saw the needle lady, asleep in an office chair with a coat over herself. A few feet beyond her was the door leading to the outside.
Hmm…
Paige silently turned back to the room and looked around. A plate of food sat on her nightstand. She took one chicken leg and devoured it just a few bites. Maybe they’re not that bad, but still, we’re not staying here. They’re naïve and they’re going to get us killed. I can’t let that happen. We’re better off on our own. They have no idea what they’re up against.
That’s when she saw the needle filled with fluid next to the tray of food and remembered the last time she saw one. She quickly knew what to do. Taking a quick glance at Cheryl, Paige picked up the needle and headed to the doorway. With her left hand on the door’s edge, she swung it carefully open without a sound, and in her casted right hand she held the filled needle high up with her thumb on the plunger.
As she neared, dark eyes flashed open behind the glasses. “No!”
Paige didn’t hesitate. Stabbing the woman in the leg, she only had to land her weight on her for a few seconds to push the liquid into her.
When the struggle was over, Paige looked around quickly to see if anyone else was coming. If there were other people around, they would have heard them by now. Since no one came, Paige yelled, “Not so…nice, is it?”
“You’re making a mistake,” the woman said as she fell into a medicated sleep.
Ignoring her, Paige shook her head and said, “You’ll get us all killed. You don’t understand the danger.”
Breathing hard from the struggle, Paige went back to the room quickly. “Cheryl, honey, wake up.” But the child didn’t stir. “Great. You too? What is with her?”
She wrapped a blanket around the girl and hefted her up and over one shoulder and had to take two steps back to balance her weight. Though she was light as a feather, the child felt like an anvil to Paige. “This is not going to be easy. Maybe we can find that truck from earlier and get the hell out of here.”
Shaking from pure adrenaline, Paige went to the doorway, bracing herself against the frame. She took a deep breath and then continued quickly past the needle-happy woman and to the outside door.
When she opened the door, the wind carried warm rain inside, blowing papers from the needle lady’s desk all over the floor. Paige stopped and looked at her there in the chair and remembered what she’d said. A mistake? If so, it wouldn’t be the first one, but she couldn’t take that chance now that she had Cheryl again. She closed the door behind her, keeping the storm from doing more damage inside.