Ashes Remain

by Alethea Stauron

  ◆◆◆

  Josephine sets her phone alarm and falls fast asleep. Her hair is still wet. Still believing she’s doing the right thing. Lucius sets in bed next to her. He glances through walls, realizing Drake is still awake and excited about his own plan. Lucius kisses Josephine on the cheek. “Sleep my love. I have something to say. Something very important,” and places her into a conscious sleep. A sleep that won’t alter her plans. Overcome with his worry, he squeezes her close, “Josephine, I love you. I’m scared for you. Baby, Drake is a bad man. I won’t let him hurt you.” He snuggles against her, “I won’t let anyone hurt you. I promise I’m fighting for you.” He moves her hair back with the slightest touch of his fingers and slides them across her jawline. “I’m protecting you. I never abandoned you. And, I never will.”

  In the wee hours of morning, or the middle of the night, buzzing across a wooden table top sends a small chirping sound. The sound reminds her she needs to fulfill a promise. A promise that will help her move her roommate out of the house. Her eyes unpeel, grimacing through a sleepy expression to silence an alarm. “Ugh…” grumbled tiredly. She sits up and immediately smells the fresh scent of rain. “At least I can smell him. That’s one good thing about this morning,” whispered softly.

  Her body mopes on the side of her bed with something that resembles a slow stand. Followed by a stretch that took more energy than she would care to give. Her arms are plastered in place, arching her back, thinking of a way she can lay back down. “Why me,” firmly protested. “I can’t wait ‘til he’s better.”

  Her long shirt lifts with her stuttering stretch to just halfway up her camo thighs. “I need to wake up,” forcing her undisciplined eyes to look away from her pillow. “I’m awake now… I think.” Her mind battles excuses, “What’s wrong with spaghetti in the morning? I loved spaghetti for breakfast when I was a kid.” She shuffles into the bathroom, ungluing her feet with each step.

  Her sink water runs, signaling Drake she’s awake. Careful to seem completely ill and comatose with sleep, Drake makes no sound, studying her every movement. Waiting for his prompt.

  She paints toothpaste across her molars, and stares at her reflection, “What am I doing? I haven’t had any breakfast yet.” Half shaking her head, “Yay. Minty toast,” she sighs.

  In the kitchen, she pops a bagel into the toaster, making as little noise as possible. The coffee pot dings, sounding more like a hallelujah praise. “Thank God for coffee,” she said. As she walks by the refrigerator, she glances over.

  Directions.

  Haunting directions like micro commands holding her to a chore she had no other choice in making. “I hope this is the last time,” shaking an expression of overstayed welcomes toward the paper in her hands, “I’m not a delivery truck driver.” She folds his directions, sliding them into her pocket. A quiet morning greets her, sipping coffee, staring at a plate of crumbs and poppyseeds. “The strangest dream,” her mind dabbles through disconnected thoughts, “Dangerous… my dreams make no sense sometimes.” Her mind loops around how helpless Drake has been since his injury. “He’s not dangerous,” she’s decided. “He’s just unfortunate.”

  Slap

  Lucius smacks his forehead. Josephine turns toward the opening of her living room. A dark room with every light off, wondering what made the sound. Only the grandfather clock. Maybe the house is settling? Only a small light over her table in the kitchen nook glows, allowing a peculiar feeling of someone standing in the shadows. “Hello,” whispered softly, “Drake…”

  Leo prances through the kitchen doorway. His tail is up high, mutely meowing with a prattling jaw. She’s gripping her chest firmly, “Leo,” grabbing a can of food for him, “You scared the daylights out of me.”

  As she places Leo’s can into the trash, she hears the breeze outside and whistling through the trees. The old shed door clanks on aged hinges, allowing metal to vibrate like a rusty old chime. I should put a hoodie on, she thinks, walking toward her entryway closet.

  ◆◆◆

  Drake listens to every movement and watches the crack under the door. Waiting. Studying for when every light is out and the front door locks behind her. Moments later, the engine rumbles, heaving a smile upon his face with the movement of headlights traveling over his ceiling. Soon after, a short blaze of taillights waves goodbye. “Bye… trick,” he chuckled. Drake bounces from bed, shuffling through his bottom drawer with one hand. He clutches his new shiny toy, eyeballing the silencer and over to the engraved barrel, “At least she’s still alive. She could be lying in a shallow hole right now.” He gazes at his reflection, patting titanium against his chest, “I’m truly a merciful man.”

  ◆◆◆

  Eddie picks up the line, and Drake says, “She just left. She’ll be there on time. Broken down as promised. Be ready to comb the back road for her. Make sure she’s broken down before trailing her. She’s not stupid. Naïve and gullible but not stupid.” He explains the make and model of the patina truck and what they would be looking for. “Basically, you’ll know when you see it.”

  Eddie says, “Give us a couple of hours to call you. When we have her, we’ll meet you where we’re tracking you. I know it’s not in Madrid where your phone is linked. We’ll follow the tracker in your arm instead.”

  “Stop tracking my phone or I’m never working with y’all again.”

  “If we have her, I’ll give you back your meds — to show our good-faith. If we don’t have her, then we’ll kill you.”

  “No worries,” confidence spoken through every vowel, “This girl will be there. She always does what she says she’s gonna do. And she smells delicious this morning.”

  Eddie says, “If she’s not a virgin, we won’t get top dollar for her. You’ll still owe us.”

  “Bullshit… I’ve made y’all plenty of money. Even the sluts make y’all rich. She’s a virgin. Her friends have told me… including her.” He huffs, “I’ve tried with this girl… she’s sealed up tight.”

  Eddie laughs, “We won’t take your word, Drake. You know we’ll check and make sure for ourselves. Better pray she’s a virgin.”

  “No worries,” he hangs up. Drake dismantles his phone, “She should’ve screwed me when she had the chance. Must suck to be a trick.”

  Josephine drives the country wilderness down dark winding roads. Neighborhood streetlights spread sparsely out until infrequent dim bulbs, like her driveway, vaguely illuminate under-travelled land. Several miles into deep country, and only a partial moon bids what’s left of the night farewell. The moon exposes parts of desert land between ridges and wild brush of limestone and dirt. She gets to a long stretch between winding paths of hill country. The stretch allows her to see a decline and inclined area between ridges. She travels down the street ridge without an issue, but as her truck climbs it sputters. The truck sputters again nearing the top of the incline. She says, “Come on, baby,” spoken as if a truck could listen. “Don’t give out on me. Think of the children.” Before she can’t make it up the hill on the straightway…

  the truck dies.

  The steering wheel catches and is hard to steer. She manages to pull over onto the shoulder, slightly disturbing gravel and weeds. “No. No…” her shoulders shrunk down, “This can’t be happening. He’ll lose his job.” She glances at the gas gauge, “I still have a full tank. Poopy pooper drawers.”

  The moon is disappearing beyond the ridge and the slightest smell of morning shines little hope with an already dark sky. “I’m gonna be late,” shaking her jawline to the beat of her dismay. She turns the key several times. The engine turns with a gasp of parch before swiftly dying again. She drums a rhythm over her steering column until bobbing her head. Her hands are left massaging indentations, hoping to coax her dad’s truck into working again. “Please? Don’t do this to me.” She peers into the darkness through her windshield with the fading night light of the moon.

  “Maybe the battery cables? They could be tarnished,” popping the h
ood. “My dad taught me a few things.” She uses her phone, lighting under a heavy hood. The battery is secure. No tarnish. Or residue over cables. “Great. Guess I’m walking…” studying her only option, “in the dark… with wildlife… terrific morning.” Josephine grabs her wallet and phone and something catches her eye.

  Lights. She thinks, Headlights.

  The only sign of population within the last half hour. A vehicle in the distance weaves around ridges just over the hill. She drops the trucks hood, “I might not have to walk after all.” She takes a step into the lane, eyeballing her only chance for a lift. Concentrating on how to flag someone down…

  and

  warmth…

  tenderness…

  the smell of rain. A hand brushes over her shoulder, “Baby…”

  Josephine spins around.

  Her heart falls, immediately held by him. She’s lifted in his arms and she’s crying, “Lucius —

  “Baby…” his tears are fought with a tight chest keeping him together. “I’m here.”

  She’s feet off the ground, “What are you doing here, Lucius? I’ve missed you.”

  He sees the incoming trouble vastly approaching its destination. “Josephine, it’s not safe right now. We have to go.”

  Josephine turns to where the headlights are coming from, “There’s a car right there. My truck isn’t working.” She looks behind him, realizing he has no vehicle. “Is this where you train?”

  He places his hand over her cheek, “Josephine you have to trust me,” touching his nose against hers and speaks softly, “Follow me, baby. Trust me. Do you trust me?”

  “I do.”

  He embraces her arm, “Then follow me,” leading her through cactus and aloe filled wilderness. She looks up for a moment at him, catching a slim hint of his expression — his eyes. A reflective light shimmering across them.

  “What,” she said with a pant.

  He deactivates his night vision to protect her from knowing too much. “I can’t answer questions right now, baby. We have to be quiet.” He directs her from the cliffside, “Stay close.” The moon is almost completely vanished from a ridge-filled horizon, allowing many hazardous obstacles in their tread.

  Josephine asks, “Do you even know where you’re going?”

  “Don’t worry. I know the owner.” He gazes back. “Everything’s okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Headlights slow down a quarter-mile behind them, pulling up in front of her truck, blocking off potential runaways.

  Lucius leads Josephine over a ridge. “Shush. Don’t say a word.” His eyes roam the area, until, observing a cavernous opening beneath a bushy tree. He presses her against him, escorting her toward the mouth of the limestone crevice. “Baby, listen to me. Show me you trust me. Don’t say a word. Don’t even whisper,” he instructed. “Let’s get into this hole and I’ll protect you here.”

  She points, “In here? Protect me? Why?”

  “Shhh… not even whisper,” and lays her in position, burrowed flat in the sonorous hole. He climbs over her, “Close your eyes,” he said.

  He shields her vision from seeing what he does, and activates an interdimensional band over his forearm. A burst of blue outlines where they hide for a brief moment and disappears between a dimensional barrier. The area around the slim limestone mouth of the cave appears flat, as if there was never a hole beneath limestone and roots.

  “What was —

  “Shhh,” he whispered, keeping her hand from touching his triggered shield. “Baby, don’t speak. Don’t move. Stay completely still.” His staggered breathing highlights the importance of her doing everything he says. “Don’t say a word.”

  A few insects chirp in the distance but become quiet as talking rises over a ridge. A ridge only yards away. The words become audible and moving toward them. Within the shallow crevice, he stays connected to her thoughts. He knows her intensifying questions. His lips brush against her ear. His heart pounding over her. His voice trembles, “Josephine, don’t say anything. We’ll talk later.” His eyes plead with her, “Baby, they’ll find you if they hear you. This is all I can do. Please?”

  Lucius glances toward voices climbing over the shallow hill. He presses his body as a shield directly on top of Josephine’s, hiding her beneath him. He looks down, studying her face.

  He jerks his head over, glancing the landscape. Listening to them closing in. His heart thunders against her — his eyes shout how terrified he is, as any dying light of the moon hides his face under the bridge of limestone encapsulating them.

  He sees two armed men come over the short ridge. As the shadows descend into Josephine’s area, Lucius delicately places his hand over her mouth, “Don’t make a sound,” whispered as subtle as her heartbeat. A dim glow of morning hints against his skin. The early light of morning is kissing the earth with twilight before sunrise, helping her to see how he raises his index finger to his lips. He signals her to keep silent. He doesn’t remove his hand from her mouth. Too terrified to lose her.

  The ground is cool beneath her back. Hard rocks to one side press against her. A slim opening keeps her sheltered inches away. They’re squeezed together and all she can think about: What is he doing, she thinks, What is he talking about?

  Until…

  Voices. She hears them now. Voices are climbing up and following a size seven shoe trail where she and Lucius were at minutes earlier. Lucius puckers his lips behind his finger, realizing she’s catching on. He barely blows a silent, Shhh, to remind her. Lucius recognizes Eddie.

  Eddie gathers his weapon, scanning the area, and says, “Her footprints lead to here. She was by herself.”

  Josephine’s eyes widen.

  Lucius presses firmer against her, trembling harder than before. His palm warmly presses over her lips. His head shakes.

  “She couldn’t have gotten far,” Eddie said.

  Mike walks toward the enclave, appearing as solid rock a couple feet from him. A camouflage that Lucius’s shield has the ability to maintain as long as he can concentrate. Even enemy troops are misled by it, but the technique drains him.

  Josephine’s eyes scan over. She doesn’t move her head. She’s shaking. Mike’s shoes are close enough that she could touch them. The dirt crunches under his soles. She hears the dirt and rocks as the grit swivels beneath him. She knows they’re searching for her. Her mind is hyperventilating with the thought,

  They’re looking for me? Her tracks led them. Her truck is clearly broken down, and she was needing assistance. Who are they?

  They know she’s a girl. They’re following her trail with weapons. There’s no way she’s moving, especially when…

  Mike snaps, “If that girl’s gonna make us a lot of money, the boss isn’t gonna like us coming back empty-handed. Drake said she’d be here.”

  A sharp breath enters her nose.

  Lucius’s eyes expand.

  Mike turns, “What was that?”

  Lucius removes his hand from her mouth, keeping his index finger over his puckered lips. He activates a device from a hidden space over his thigh. And rolls the sound maker with the rattle of a snake to echo nearby.

  Mike jumps from the area, “Oh, shit…” he darts twenty feet from where he stood, “Freaking rattlesnakes out here.”

  Eddie says, “Snakes won’t bother you. Just stay away from them. They’re more scared than you are.”

  “I hate snakes.”

  “Yeah… like Drake,” Eddie said.

  “I guess she slipped through. I’m not searching through snake infested country to look for this girl. We’ll have to go back empty-handed,” Mike said.

  “Not quite.” Eddie steps back, leaving the way they came, “That’s the issue when it comes to human trafficking. You never know which girl you’re gonna get. Or if she’s fresh.”

  Mike rushes from the area, trekking behind Eddie, “I think we need to bring back Drake’s head.”

  Eddie says, “That’s what I mean.” The
voices carry on between each other but fading into the distance.

  Lucius gathers his breathing and exhales his thought, “You’re safe.” He studies her, making sure she’s okay after hearing a dark truth.

  “You saved me,” she said. “How did you —

  “Shhh…” he whispers, “wait.” His head sways back and forth, trying to conceal his activated vision, checking for any other adversaries in the vicinity. Adversaries he would not be able to hide. An enemy far beyond what she almost encountered. “Give me a minute,” and watches a shadow disappear beyond a distant ridge. Never in public, he thought.

  ◆◆◆

  Several minutes pass and the sounds of any vehicles rumbling in the distance have vanished. Lucius releases stress and becomes limp over her. His heart metronomes against hers. The feeling of breathing. Finally breathing

  and

  he senses her body.

  The trauma.

  Her deepening breath. Shivering. Her eyes glaze from under him. Josephine squeezes a trail of tears sideways toward her ears. He deactivates the shield. “Baby…” embracing her, “you still have to stay quiet. Listen to me. It’s not safe yet, but they’re gone. I know you don’t understand but it’s not safe yet.”

  Her head shakes. Confused. Her breath trembles with subtle sobbing, “Why?”

  “We can’t be seen talking to each other. Not out here. Baby, try not to cry. I need you to be strong. Be strong…” he swallows, “because I will absolutely lose it.” She whimpers, trying to bar it down. Beneath his warmth. Her body quivers in distress. He tries comforting her, giving gentle kisses. “Don’t cry,” his lips rubbed against her cheek, “Don’t cry.” He looks deep into her eyes, “I’ve got you.”