by Julie Cannon
She was digging a grave for her pet turtle Clifford, who’d died last night while she was sleeping. She was eight and her cousin Sam, who was three years older, was helping her. Her mother had given Kelly a shoebox and an old dishcloth from the kitchen and was standing beside her in quiet support. Her mother had always been beside her for everything. If it wasn’t holding a dead turtle in a box, it was sitting on the sidelines two evenings a week watching her play softball. She could always count on her mother.
Her job finished, she stumbled back into the camp area. She was exhausted, and it was all she could do to stagger to her mat. She didn’t care where Barrett was or if she was okay. In this minute she had to take care of herself, and for the first time she could remember she didn’t care about anyone else.
*
Barrett was grateful she wasn’t the one that had to drag Blue away. God knows what she would have had to do. Why had she come to this godforsaken country?
A guard Barrett had never seen before tossed a canteen, a piece of bread, and what looked suspiciously like a chicken leg a few feet in front of her. He repeated his actions, and more food landed next to the shackle Kelly had been locked to yesterday.
Her hands were free and Barrett grabbed all three pieces in front of her and immediately tore off a chunk of the bread and shoved it in her mouth. She swallowed it practically before she chewed it. Other than the bread yesterday, it was all she’d had to eat since this whole nightmare started. What was that, a week ago? Six days? Yes, it was six days. Or was it seven? Unlike Kelly, she would keep track of the number of days. Her exacting nature wouldn’t allow otherwise.
She quickly finished her meager meal and eyed Kelly’s. She felt a momentary pang of guilt, but in this situation it was every man for himself, so to speak. Kelly might have accepted her fate and become content to sit and wait until she was released, but Barrett certainly wasn’t. She needed to stay sharp and alert for any opportunity to escape. She scooted as far as her chain would allow and stretched, but she was still several feet away from the piece of bread. She looked around for something to use to grab the food, but before she found anything she heard a noise behind her.
Kelly staggered into camp, and the sight of her made Barrett’s stomach jump. Her face, arms, and legs were covered in dirt, the blood from Blue’s injuries dark on her shorts. A cut on her leg looked raw, and her face was drawn. But she was alive.
The guard secured Kelly to the chain again and returned a few minutes later with a bucket of water. Kelly greedily washed her hands and face first, then her bare arms and legs. When her extremities were clean, she stripped off her clothes and dunked them in the water.
Barrett watched as Kelly, unaffected by her nakedness, scrubbed the blood off first her shorts, then her shirt. Her nipples were hard from the exertion and her breasts were perfect.
Kelly looked up and caught her staring. Barrett felt a blush creep up her neck. She felt like a voyeur but couldn’t look away. When Kelly turned her back, Barrett inhaled sharply. Her back was covered in a patchwork of pale scars from a whip.
Anger rose in her throat and Barrett opened her mouth to say something. She stopped. What was she going to say? “How did you get those?” “I’m sorry you were whipped.” There really was nothing she could say. She shuddered at the mistreatment Kelly must have endured. It was almost unimaginable.
Chapter Seven
Kelly hadn’t moved and Barrett was afraid she was dead. After eating the sparse meal, Kelly had lain down, turned on her side, curled up into the fetal position, and hadn’t moved. That was hours ago. Or at least Barrett thought it was. The canopy of the jungle was so thick that not a lot of sun got through, but as best she could tell the sun had moved across the sky and the humidity had dropped a little.
Barrett studied Kelly for any signs that she was still breathing. She thought she detected a slight movement in her shoulders and back but couldn’t be sure. She didn’t want to wake her, as obviously she needed her sleep from the ordeal of last night and this morning. She herself had napped on and off throughout the day, but now she was wide-awake and had no idea if her cellmate, so to speak, was alive or dead.
Anxiety swept over her and Barrett quickly stood. Overcome with dizziness, she fought the blackness that was threatening to overtake her again. She bent at the waist, bracing herself with her hands on her knees, and took a few deep breaths, commanding herself not to faint. She never allowed her body to override her mind and didn’t intend to start now.
The darkness subsided and Barrett slowly stood, arched her back, and stretched her arms over her head, her ribs aching. She was stiff from sitting too long in one position and needed to stay strong if she intended to escape. Sitting around all day waiting would dull her senses and weaken her body, and that might prove fatal.
She used the tree she was shackled to for support more than once during her exercises. She must be weaker than she thought and vowed to repeat this activity at least three times a day. The guards that were their constant companions eyed her warily but quickly got bored and resumed their game of cards.
Breathing heavily she looked up and into Kelly’s open eyes. Barrett didn’t know how long she’d been watching her, and a flush of relief that Kelly was alive flooded her.
“Good afternoon,” Barrett said, moving as close to Kelly as her restraint allowed.
“How long did I sleep?” Kelly slowly sat up, bracing her arms behind her for support. She blinked several times and ran one hand over her face.
“Most of the day.”
Kelly stretched her legs, leaned forward, and massaged her calves, then her thighs, and finally the small of her back. “God, I feel like shit. Which is surprising because I didn’t think I could feel worse than…” Her words died. She obviously didn’t need to verbalize what they’d gone through. “How are you?”
“I’m okay. Just bored and tired of Mutt and Jeff over there leering at me,” Barrett said, referring to the two guards that sat a dozen yards away.
“The big one in the blue shirt we call Bruce, the other one Little Boy.” She told Barrett why they’d named their guards and where they came from.
“I did the same thing. The guy that we were…” Barrett hesitated, not wanting to reference exactly how they knew the guy. “I called him Blue after Bluebeard the pirate. The other one that dragged me here reminds me of a young Desi Arnez from the I Love Lucy show.”
“I can see that,” Kelly said, nodding.
“Who else do we have as our new best friends?” Barrett asked, referencing the other guards.
“Most of them are in and out, but the ones that are constant are Hercules, for apparent reasons when you see him; Jack Sparrow, because he braids his scruffy beard; and Dirty Harry, because he has the biggest gun. We think he took it from one of the camps they must have raided because everyone else has rifles or machine guns.”
“Machine guns?” Barrett asked. Blue and Desi each had an AR-15 slung over their shoulder with extra clips tucked into the pockets of their camo pants.
“Yeah. You know, the kind that can shoot a dozen bullets with one pull of the trigger.”
“My guys had AR-15s, and one of them had a 9 millimeter.”
“You know your guns,” Kelly said, a combination of statement and question.
“I have a few.” Actually Barrett had more than a few, but they didn’t do her any good at home locked in her custom gun cabinet.
Several minutes passed before Barrett had the unfamiliar itch to fill the void. She’d always been comfortable with silence and often used it to advantage in business dealings. Most people couldn’t keep their mouth shut and often tipped their hand during that time.
“So what do you do all day? I’m bored to death.” Actually she was still on edge and disoriented but would never admit it. She never admitted any weakness or the fact that she wasn’t completely on top of her game.
“They usually have us working around the camp. Free labor, you know?” Barrett nodded a
nd she continued. “I check on anyone who needs it, we gather firewood for the fire, wash the dishes, the clothes, that sort of thing.”
“What about the others? Where are they?” Barrett hadn’t seen any of the other hostages Kelly spoke about.
“If they’re still here, they’re probably on the other side of the camp. Sometimes they let us be together, but most of the time they separate us.”
“Why?”
“For sport, because they’re bored, to fuck with our minds, and because they can,” Kelly said dully. “We had a sociology professor here for a few months, and he told us that isolation was one of the best forms of psychological tortures. Long periods of being alone make you lose hope and your will to fight. It makes you much more controllable. We’re humans and need human contact, especially in a situation like this. When we’re all together we don’t feel so alone. Kind of like we’re all in this together and together we can survive.”
“You said if they’re still here? If not, was their ransom paid?”
“Maybe for some, I guess. Some are sold to other factions.”
“Sold?” Barrett tried to keep her voice steady. “Sold for what?”
“Guns, ammunition, even another hostage, who knows. We’re a commodity. Something to be bought and sold.”
*
Barrett woke to sounds of shouts and commands. It was still dark, and their guards were scrambling around waking the others. From what she could gather they were getting ready to move and were expected to break down the camp. It was only then that Barrett saw the other hostages. The seven men reminded her of pictures showing the Nazi camps when they were liberated. They were so thin, Barrett didn’t know how they were able to stand, let alone carry the heavy cases of ammunition on their shoulders. They never glanced up, never looked her way, but silently followed the commands of the guards.
“What’s happening?” she asked Kelly, who stood and picked up the dirty mat she’d been sleeping on.
“We’re moving.”
“Where?”
“Does it matter?”
“Won’t that make it harder for anyone to find us?”
Kelly stopped moving and looked at her with sad, hopeless eyes. “Isn’t that the point?”
They hiked through jungle so thick they were forced to walk single file. The guard Kelly called Hercules swung his machete through the brush with very little effort. Even with Hercules’s clearing, branches and vines still hung across their path. Barrett’s hands were tied behind her back again, and she had to hold on to the heavy chain attached to the shackle still around her left ankle.
They stopped once during the morning and again in the afternoon, and Barrett quickly realized it wasn’t for the wellbeing of the hostages. Little Boy offered each of them a drink from a shared canteen, and because her hands were still tied most of it missed her mouth and slid down her neck.
When they started again, if the hostages couldn’t keep up they were poked with knives or the barrel of guns and forced to continue. Blood on the trail told Barrett that someone had been injured, more than just a scratch or two from the low-hanging branches. When the blood was still there after hours of walking she knew it was serious. Kelly was in front of her, but due to the thick jungle Barrett could barely see her, let alone tell if she was the one injured.
On the third and fourth day it rained, a hard, driving rain that beat down on them like slaps. The guards had ponchos, but Barrett and the other hostages didn’t and were instantly soaked to the skin. They slogged through mud sometimes knee-deep, stopping more frequently. They didn’t have any cover from the rain when they ate or slept, but Barrett was too tired to care.
At night they were gathered collectively and secured together so tight they could barely move. They were tied either back-to-back or face-to-face, their arms around each other as if hugging. Escape was impossible. The only bright spot was on the several occasions Barrett was secured near Kelly. It was on the fifth night since they broke camp when they finally were able to speak to each other.
“Are you okay?” Kelly asked, the rain effectively drowning out their voices.
“I have no idea. I’m just putting one foot in front of the other and hoping I don’t fall down.” Barrett had never been so exhausted. “How long does this go on?”
“It varies. Sometimes it’s only a day or two and sometimes it’s longer. Once we were on the move for two weeks.” Kelly yawned.
“Two weeks!” She couldn’t do this for two weeks, and she doubted the man tied against her back could either.
“Have you been able to hear where we’re going?” Sometime in the past few days, Kelly had figured out that she understood Spanish better than she did.
“No. They’re bitching about the weather, the food, and The Colonel,” Barrett said sarcastically. Kelly didn’t reply for several minutes, and Barrett thought she’d fallen asleep. They were lying face-to-face, and she was the closest she’d ever been to Kelly’s face.
A sprinkling of freckles was evenly scattered across her nose and over her cheeks. A small scar just below her lip and lines of fatigue around her eyes and mouth were the only imperfections on an otherwise smooth face. Kelly must have felt her looking and opened her eyes.
They were dark and piercing, but clear. This close she could see lighter flecks of color forming a ring just outside her pupils. Eyebrows naturally formed into a perfect arch lay just above long, thick eyelashes. Kelly’s nose was perfectly straight, in direct contrast to her own, which had been broken once in high school and again when she was taken. Lush, full lips lay open no more than a few inches from hers, soft breath caressing her.
There it was again! That spark she’d felt when Kelly had been allowed to treat her wrists. The one that made her pulse race, only this time the flame wasn’t going away. Barrett felt Kelly’s breathing hitch. My God, what is going on?
“What?” Kelly asked.
“Here I am, lying next to a beautiful woman for the night, and I can’t do a thing with it. Go figure.” She was amazed her humor hadn’t completely deserted her.
“Go to sleep,” Kelly said, seemingly not bothered by her outing herself. “We need to be rested in the morning.”
*
The next morning and every morning for the next four days they woke and slogged through the jungle. Not since that evening in the rain had Kelly had a moment alone with Barrett. The guards must have sensed something because they kept them apart whenever they could and punished them if they even thought they were trying to communicate with each other. Barrett still hadn’t learned to keep her mouth shut, and the guards seemed to enjoy pushing her buttons and then doling out whatever retribution amused them.
This move was agony for Kelly, but she’d developed the ability to go somewhere else in her head almost automatically. It was a matter of survival, and she was all about that. Finally, after what she thought was nine days of hiking, they carved a clearing out of the jungle and set up camp.
One day not long after that, The Colonel came for her. They were clearing an area to store additional supplies when Kelly saw him heading in her direction. She knew what he wanted. She always knew.
It wasn’t the first time he’d come for her since Barrett arrived, but it was the first time Barrett would see it. Slowly she moved closer, hoping to get to Barrett before she said anything.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Kelly said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I can handle this.”
Barrett turned to look at her and saw The Colonel over her left shoulder. Defiance filled her eyes. Kelly knew Barrett wouldn’t listen. “Barrett, please, don’t.”
Barrett squared and put herself between Kelly and The Colonel. Kelly saw his face fill with rage, and she silently prayed.
“Don’t,” Barrett said calmly.
The Colonel coolly surveyed Barrett as if weighing the capabilities of an opponent. Four of his men were within five yards of them and could be at his side within seconds. Kelly knew he didn’t need the help.
His whip was in his right hand, and to the casual observer it looked like he wasn’t ready to use it. But Kelly knew otherwise.
“Really?” he replied in a smooth voice. “Are you volunteering to take her place?”
Barrett didn’t answer.
“Why are you so interested in her welfare?” He nodded toward Kelly.
“Just leave her alone.”
“Interesting.” The Colonel rubbed his chin. “Funny, you didn’t say anything the other times I had her. Oh yes, that’s right, you were chained to a tree,” he added, as if just remembering it. Whereas his men only knew how to inflict physical punishment, The Colonel obviously had experience in psychological abuse as well.
Kelly stood behind Barrett, and even though she couldn’t see her face, she did see her back stiffen and her fists clench. “Barrett, please.”
“Yes, Barrett, please.” The Colonel mimicked her sarcastically.
Barrett was on him before Kelly knew what was happening. Barrett’s wrists were still banded together, but she was able to head-butt him before the guards pulled her off.
“You bitch!” The Colonel shouted, raising his whip. Blood poured from a cut above his right eye, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand.
“No,” Kelly screamed, and stepped in front of him. “She doesn’t know what she’s doing. She’s only been here a few weeks. Please, Colonel, I’ll do anything.” Kelly begged, wanting to retch.
“I don’t care how long she’s been here or how much she’s worth, for that matter.” With Barrett subdued he turned his attention to Kelly and leered at her. “And yes, you will do anything for me.” He barked several commands and Barrett was dragged away.
“Kelly! Kelly!” Barrett screamed before Hercules hit her on the side of the head with his rifle.