by Kate Morris
He looks down at her and nods. They leave the room to the murmuring of the women talking behind them.
“I should take the women and kids back out the way you and I came in. The path is marked. I can get us out of here. You could go with Gabriella through the tunnels and find that laundry room and scope it all out. If it’s really spooky down there, some of the kids might start crying or fussing. We’re going to need a better layout, a clearer picture of where we’re going to meet with them in a few days. You could check it out faster without me and twenty women with you. Plus, if the little kids get tired- because that looks far to walk- then, we’ll end up having to carry them.”
He nods but looks uncertain. “I don’t like the idea of splitting up.”
“It’s more important to me that I get some of these women as far away from this hell hole as possible. John’s waiting for me. This is no place for children, either, Cory. The scoping-out-the-place stuff is your area of expertise.”
“I could radio John to come in and…”
“No,” she says, shaking her head. “No, don’t do that. He can help more from where he is if I run into problems. Also, he can let me know when it’s safe to cross back over the road to the theater. Dave’s sniper is with him. They could cover us as we make our exit.”
“If you make it out,” he worries.
“I will. This is where I can do some good. I know how to get around places like this without being seen.” Indecision is written all over his face. Paige looks at her watch and adds, “We need to move now. They’re about to send a new guard up here. I want to get them out of here before he comes. If it looks like they’re all in their beds asleep, he won’t suspect someone killed the other guard when he realizes he isn’t on duty. Maybe we’ll get lucky, and he’ll assume he just left his shift a few minutes early.”
He nods and says, “Ok. Fine. I’ll try to hurry and catch up with you. Take them, but damn it, Paige, be careful. And call John if you have problems.”
“I will,” she promises and leans up and kisses his mouth.
They tell the women of the plan and split off after they instruct the ones who will be staying to go to their rooms, shut down for the night, and fake sleep. They have to explain the reason why they want them to do so but leave out the gritty details so that the younger children don’t understand it’s about not revealing the dead man at the end of the wing hidden in a bathtub. The women do, but none of them blinks an eye at the story of the man Cory murdered. He also warns them not to go in that room. She can tell they have no desire to.
“Come on,” she whispers to the group as they head down the hallway toward the exit door. “Stay close.”
One of the small girls behind her says, “Mommy, I’m scared.”
Paige stops and spins. She squats in front of the small girl. “Listen…” she starts and waits for the mother to tell her the child’s name.
“Allison,” she reveals.
“Listen, Allison,” Paige says. “we have to be super quiet now, ok? No sounds at all. Tippy toes. No words. We need to sneak you all away from the bad men. If you need to say something, wait until we get you away from here. Then you’ll be free to do whatever you want and say anything you want.”
“And play outside?” she asks, her large blue eyes regarding Paige with childlike hope.
“Absolutely, sweetie,” she promises. “But we have to be quiet like baby bunny rabbits, ok?”
She smiles, but Paige knows she understands the reason behind the need for silence, which makes her terribly melancholy. Children should not live in fear. She prays for the day that this is all over, that she’ll finally wake and realize it was all just a bad dream. But that seems unlikely. This is reality now. The sounds of gunfire sometimes in the distance. Leaky roofs that drip, drip, drip when she used to scavenge for food for herself and her friends. The smells of an open campfire, not for roasting marshmallows and telling scary ghost stories but so that people don’t freeze to death. The dead bodies she’s seen over the years, the ones she’s put in that state. This child knows all of it, too, and all she wants is to feel the sunshine on her tiny face and twirl in circles in a yard somewhere or play tag with other kids. Paige is going to do everything she can to make that happen.
“Be careful of debris. Don’t kick something by accident. Look down, look around,” she warns the women who have bunched up around her. “And single file. We need to stay as close to the walls as possible. Don’t walk two and three wide. If you’re last through a door, shut it without noise. This is all about stealth and silence. When we came through, the second floor had men walking around. Do not make a sound when we pass that door. Be careful and keep up.”
She doesn’t mean to be rude or abrasive, but she does want to make it out of this complex alive. She wants the same for them.
They come to the door that is marked at the bottom with neon green wax, and Paige listens first before opening it. Then she cracks it open and listens again. Nothing. Silence. That’s good.
She leads the way and begins their descent. She takes a second to sweep a small box on a step to the side so that nobody behind her trips over it and causes a loud commotion. Her low wattage flashlight is going to be their only light, so she waits for them to catch up right before the landing to the second floor. Good. They’ve made it this far.
Men’s voices let her know that someone is on the other side of the door. She can smell cigarette smoke, they are so close. She turns back to the group and puts her finger to her lips. By the looks on their terrified faces, she hadn’t needed to warn them to be quiet. She does not care who is on the other side of the door, only that they do not see them in the stairwell. She is not going to risk a furtive peek. She turns her flashlight off because a little bit of light is coming through the glass in the window and provides enough to see by. Plus, she doesn’t want them spotting her light bopping around in the dark stairwell. A plastic grocery bag to her right on the floor could tangle in someone’s shoes, so she moves it aside. The women and children are all looking at her with fear. They know what awaits them on the other side of the door would likely be their deaths.
She motions up and down to them with her hand. They look at her with confusion, so she demonstrates and goes first, hunching over and ducking under the window. She turns back once she’s passed and sees they understand. Then she motions for them to move out again.
One foot slowly in front of the other, she keeps going down the stairs. A piece of metal pipe that she hadn’t seen the first time through this area with Cory is lying on a step, so she picks it up and takes it with her. She doesn’t want or need to carry it, but she also doesn’t want anyone to kick it accidentally. The noise would be deafening and would definitely bring those men. She loses her two-handed grip on her pistol to the pipe, so Paige gives it to the mother of the little girl, who happens to be Lilly. At least if they are attacked, she can go down with a fight. The woman looks happy to be given the weapon.
Going down another flight to the first-floor landing, Paige waits at the door and listens. This end of the hotel was empty when they came through before. She doesn’t want to rush, but she also really doesn’t want to linger in the stairwell in case those men happen to look in, shine a light through the glass, or hear them.
She whispers to the woman behind her, “Do you know if anyone is living in this end of the hotel?”
She shrugs. “I don’t think so. I’m not sure.”
Paige looks at the green mark at the bottom of the door and knows she needs to go this way or risk becoming lost. She listens another moment before pushing the door slightly ajar. She could hear a pin drop. Everyone is waiting for her to move forward or go another way. She signals for them to move.
Pushing the door open further, she exits into the dark hallway she and Cory came through earlier. She presses her back to the wall and leads the women and children toward the hallway that will take them to the exit. The light is still lit at the other end of the hall to their right
. She needs to get them out of here quickly.
Without saying anything, she picks up the pace. Then she hears the shouting of men somewhere. It sounds like they are arguing. She prays they are not going to come down the hall and see them. Paige makes it around the corner and rushes forward to give the other women room. The sounds of the men’s voices draw closer, and she feels a moment of intense panic.
“Go. Keep going. The exit door is marked. Wait for me in the foyer. If I’m not there in two minutes, keep going. Go across the street toward the movie theater. Our people are waiting for us there,” she fiercely whispers to the woman behind her, who nods in return.
She knows she has to stay, to bring up the rear. She is the only one with a weapon. Even though it is silenced, Paige worries if she has to shoot someone then the noise will draw others.
She ushers the others past her and encourages them to hurry. When the last woman has fled with a child holding her hand, Paige risks peering around the corner. Two men are coming their way. She doesn’t think they’ve been spotted, though, because they are casually strolling and carrying on a conversation. Somewhere much farther into the complex someone is playing an electric guitar and drums. She wonders if they party every night or if this is just a special occasion of some sorts. No matter. Paige just wants out. She is well-concealed within the confines of dark shadows and a hall that contains no light at all, but the men are backlit as they come closer. One slaps the other on the back and jogs down the opposite corridor, leaving his comrade, who is still on track to run into Paige should he continue.
Drawing a deep breath, Paige braces for what seems inevitable. She looks around quickly to find the best place for which to confront this man because she will simply not be able to run to the corridor where the women are hiding. It’s too far, at least sixty or seventy feet away, and there isn’t enough time. He would surely spot her and probably shoot her in the back. He may not be worried about discharging his weapon, which she has no doubt he is carrying, but she cannot shoot her gun in here. They will surely hear it. She jogs down the hall to a room with a closed door and tries the knob, which turns. She peeks inside. It is an employee locker room. There are tall aisles of lockers, worn, wooden benches in between mounted to the tile floor, and bathrooms and showers off to the left. She wonders if this space will provide enough stifling of a shot if she has to take one. She even considers just hiding in a locker but knows that it would leave those women out there to be discovered.
She whips her head to the side as the man begins whistling. The tune is cheerful, but under the odd circumstances, it just comes off as foreboding. And, unfortunately, even closer. She watches with apprehension as he turns the corner and heads toward her. Paige presses her back against the door, which she holds partially open. Maybe he’ll keep going. Maybe he won’t see her at all. Maybe he won’t continue on down the hall and see the women and children. He doesn’t have a flashlight, so the hallway is dim at best.
He stops whistling abruptly and calls out, “Hey! What are you doin’ down here?”
Too late. He’s seen her. She glances quickly to her right and sees the last woman round the corner into the foyer space. Then she looks back at him as he approaches, relieved he has not seen them but only her.
“I asked what you’re doin’ down here? You’re supposed to be upstairs at this hour.”
He thinks she is one of their prisoners. This could work to her advantage.
“Lost,” she lies as he comes closer, now within twenty feet. She slides her hand behind her, the one holding the pistol. She’s going to have to kill him, and that thought brings bile and fear into the back of her throat.
Cory’s voice comes over her earpiece, “You out yet, Red?”
She can’t answer. It will give away her mic, her identity as a woman who is not one of their captive slave workers. Cory will have to wait. She uses her left hand to pull her scarf slightly higher to conceal her communication equipment.
“You’re lost?” he asks as if he knows she is lying.
He isn’t very old, around thirty or so.
He continues as he steps within ten feet. “Now, you know you ain’t lost, girl. What are you really doin’ down here?”
“I…I was just hungry. Sorry,” she apologizes.
“Well, well, well,” he ponders and rubs at his chin, looking her up and down. “Maybe we can help each other out.”
“Like you guys do with some of the other women?” she questions, wanting to know more.
“Sometimes,” he admits. “You and me could come to an arrangement, a little secret just between the two of us, eh? Boss wouldn’t have to know.”
Paige tries not to cringe. “Yeah…um…sure.”
She presses back against the door, letting it push inward a bit further.
“What’s in there?” he asks.
“Locker room,” she answers honestly because she hopes to entice him into it with her. “I thought I might find something to eat in one of the lockers.”
“Anyone else in there?”
“No, just me…and you maybe,” she teases and attempts to look seductive, not her strong suit. It must work because he glances over his shoulder to make sure his friend isn’t coming. Then he adjusts his crotch.
“Why don’t we go to my room where it’s a little more comfortable?”
This isn’t working. “I don’t want anyone, your friends, to get the wrong idea. Plus, they could tell on us to the other women. I just want you.”
“Yeah? What’s my name?”
Crap. This really isn’t working. He’s doubting her. “I don’t know. I’m kinda’ new.”
He nods but looks her up and down with suspicion. Paige has to make this stick. She has to get rid of him and get the women out. She reaches out and touches his bare arm. Then she bites her lower lip. She has never fooled herself into thinking she’s a sexy vixen, the kind of woman that men fawn over, but this is life or death. After caressing his arm, she sweeps her hair over her shoulder and toys with it.
“Ok. You got a deal,” he agrees. “But I don’t have a lot of time, so hurry it up.”
She presses back against the door and acts like she is ushering him in ahead of her. He takes the bait and brushes past her. The look he gives her as he goes makes Paige’s blood curdle. It also angers her that he thinks he should have this right, this amount of power over her.
She quietly closes the door behind them and follows him. He stops near one of the benches and begins working the belt holding up his pants. Her hands begin to shake.
“Get on over here, girl,” he orders with less finesse this time. “You’ve got some work to do.”
“Sure,” she agrees complacently, wanting to vomit instead. “Are there any towels around?”
“What for? You worried about germs?”
“Yeah, I guess I am,” she answers. It sounds ridiculous given the circumstance.
“We don’t need towels. I’m gonna bend you right over this here bench.”
“But I’ll want to clean up after,” she lies, this time finding a better one.
“Awful picky, aren’t ya’?”
“Sorry, I don’t want to get an infection. I’ve heard you guys don’t have doctors,” she says, her voice shaking a little.
Like the other men they’ve taken out, according to Cory, this man is well-fed and clothed and clean. He also isn’t ignorant or slovenly but handsome and seems like he came from a normal, non-prison like upbringing. He is not bringing honor to his family tonight.
“Just the one, but she’s worthless, cuckoo. But not for long,” he tells her.
“What do you mean?” she asks coyly.
He sighs and opens a locker, “There’s a town close by that has doctors and medicine and shit. Once we figure out how to take it over, we’ll have our own doctors working for us.”
She has a sickening feeling she knows which town he means but asks anyway.
“Which town?”
“What’s it matter? I do
n’t know. Team went the other night but got their asses kicked. It’ll go better next time. What do you care? You’ll serve your purpose, or we’ll get rid of you. The same will go for those doctors.”
“Right,” she says softly.
“I can’t find towels,” he complains and slams another locker.
Paige wishes he’d be a lot quieter, “If I get sick, then our arrangement won’t work. Some of the other girls have gotten infections and stuff. Then it’ll just be a one-time thing, and I’d like it to be more than that. I don’t wanna’ starve, ya’ know?”
He looks around some more, opening lockers. He finds a stack of white spa towels in a cupboard and throws them on the bench. She plans to use them to muffle the shot.
“Now get over here and strip,” he orders roughly and points to the bench. “I want to see what I’m paying for.”
Paige forces one foot in front of the other.
“Hey, what are you hidin’ behind your back?” he questions and stalks toward her.
She reaches behind her with her other hand and pulls out of her pocket her lip balm, hoping he’ll fall for it. He doesn’t. He slaps her hand away and reaches for her other arm. Paige jerks back and jumps out of his way. She immediately swings the gun up, but he grabs her wrist and shoves her backward going with her. The man slams her up against the cement block wall. He knocks her hand and wrist against the wall until Paige can no longer hold onto the gun and drops it.
“Bitch!” he hisses. “Where’d you get that?”
“Let me go,” she warns, all pretense at being coy and innocent gone. He has angered her greatly with his sense of entitlement.
“Fucking bitch,” he swears and jams a leg between hers. “I won’t be nice now. You’re gonna get it the hard way, bitch.”
She pushes back, but he is too fast and drags her away from the wall. Then he sweeps her legs, takes her to the concrete floor, and lands on top of her. She braces herself so that her skull doesn’t crack against the hard floor. Paige immediately lashes out and punches him right in the jaw. Then she attempts to knee him in the crotch but is deflected by his leg. He slaps her across the cheek, but Paige punches at his face, neck, and stomach. She fights with everything she has and even scratches her nails across his neck. He grasps both wrists and pins them, so she tries kicking at him and squirming.