by Jody Klaire
“Someone has done this to you.” The doctor smiled a warm smile. “I want to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
Frei wanted to tell her. She wanted to tell her everything she’d known and held in. She wanted to ask for help, to say that they were slaves, that she was owned, that her sister, that Suz had to run. She wanted to say that Jäger had killed someone, that his men had shot at Suz, that he’d beaten her and half-drowned her . . . that he’d . . . he’d demanded to know where her sister was . . . but she couldn’t. What could this woman do? All it would accomplish was the doctor getting hurt too. “I fell.”
The doctor sighed. “If you’re able to keep your food down, I won’t have any reason to keep you here. I’ll have to send you back to class.”
Frei gripped the glass, water slopped onto her lap. She clenched her jaw at the giveaway reaction. Stupid.
“If you tell me why you’re so scared, I will find a reason to keep you here.” The doctor raised her eyebrows, open honesty in her eyes.
“Jäger . . . he . . .”
The door slammed open. The doctor placed the covers over Frei’s legs as Jäger stomped in. “Huber wants her back in class.”
Frei felt the glass shudder in her grip. The doctor placed herself so she was in front of her, like she was protecting her. “She isn’t fit enough.”
Jäger put his hands on his hips. “Like all the affected kids here, she’s just milking it. You mustn’t listen to them. They’re needy.”
The doctor raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening to medical science, Mr. Jäger. She suffered substantial damage. There is an internal bleed.”
His face dropped. “A bleed? Stupid kid.”
“I’d be more concerned about who hurt her.” The doctor narrowed her eyes. Jäger backed up. “If I find out who caused that damage, they will need permanent care.”
Frei felt the doctor’s strength, felt comfort from it. Comfort that made her chin wobble. She hid it by drinking her water.
“Who would bother with her?” He waved it off, charm in his eyes. “She’s a weedy little girl.”
“Indeed.” The doctor kept her gaze hard, Jäger’s usually dominant posture slumped in response. “What pathetic excuse for a person would need to harm a child to feel better?” Her tone filled with derision.
He sucked in his chin.
Frei had never seen anyone, let alone a woman, look at him like that.
“I’ll inform Huber.” He glared at one of the nurses who scuttled out of his way.
“Very well.”
He turned and stomped out.
Frei knew she must have looked stunned by the amused smile on the doctor’s face. “When you’re a bit more mobile, I’ll teach you how to deal with bullies who think their size makes them stronger.”
Frei blinked, knowing tears dribbled down her cheeks.
The doctor touched her knee.
She flinched.
The doctor frowned. “Did he do anything else to you?”
Frei stared down at her water. “No.”
“Good, then we can get to work sooner.”
Frei looked at the nurses filling in paperwork. They were more interested in what financial impact the treatment would have so that the owner would cough up. She noticed none of them had filled in a form on her. “How won’t they notice?”
“Nasty procedure to stop that bleed. I don’t like distractions when I work.” The doctor tapped the glass, motioning for her to drink up.
Frei finished the water and the doctor went to leave. She reached out, touched her hand. “I’m not really bleeding, am I?”
The doctor looked down at her hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “No, but the next person who tries to hurt you will be.”
Chapter 32
THERE WAS SOMETHING about large warehouses that gave me the “Eebies” as Nan would say. Especially empty warehouses that had rusted girders and holes in their corrugated iron roofs.
They held a desolate spirit of grim-faced workers covered by the dirt of their industry; Metronomic machines clattering and clanging; Machines that crunched, ground, and sent sparks cascading across pool-riddled stone floors; Windows brown with fumes. Windows smeared, smashed, or riddled with splintered cracks.
They felt like prisons did. Those laboring inside were shut away from the sunlight and overlooked by those in offices high overhead.
This warehouse felt tarred with that helplessness, with the divide between free and captive. It didn’t matter that it was empty now, or that Renee stuck close by to remind me I had broken free, it still screamed institution.
“Can you make out anything?” Renee asked. Her voice echoed through the large space, making something with wings flutter high above us.
“I ain’t sure where to start.” I shoved my hands in my pockets. “Kids worked here. Lots of kids. They got caught in machines, got hurt by the guards, got . . .” I sighed. “Hurt because they weren’t fast enough.”
“Urs was here?”
I walked over to the rickety old staircase too rotten to climb. “Huber wanted her to steal money and papers.” I reached into my pocket, took out the lock.
Frei stood there, her stomach twinging from the pain. Cramps only made everything difficult. Even though she was nearly sixteen, she’d hidden the fact she was having them from Megan. If she knew it was happening, she’d sell her off. She’d think that the stuff they gave the girls to stop it wasn’t working. It did with some girls but Frei had never taken the stuff, neither had her sister. She knew full well they weren’t vitamins and she knew that Huber didn’t know it was happening.
Megan thought girls would be stupid enough to go running to her. Some had. The sight of blood had freaked them out. She’d find a way to get rid of them then. Megan didn’t like it when they started looking like women.
Frei only knew because Huber found her useful. She was talented and she’d gotten him the things he wanted. She was okay with that as long as it kept Megan away but now he was going back on it. He was saying he wouldn’t help her sister, that her sister was in danger of being failed.
Frei shut her eyes. Stupid pain. She bent over, sucking in her breaths. Exercise helped. The sweat dripped from her hands and she was glad this place was a grimy hole. If the files had been in a house or a clean place, she’d have left too much of a trace.
Huber wouldn’t be happy with that. If she got him these papers, maybe he would be able to afford her sister, that way she wouldn’t have to worry about her being failed.
Frei crept out of the office, the papers in hand. The guard didn’t register her sneak past. She was surprised they had any hearing left with the machines.
She glanced back at the machines that were dormant for the night. Slaves or no slaves, too much noise brought the authorities snooping around.
Megan had given her instructions, “steal the papers and climb out through the window.” Frei clenched her jaw. A trap. She knew someone would be waiting to catch her.
A way to make Huber think she was useless.
Frei rubbed her hand across her stomach. Cramps, crawling through dirt and rubble wasn’t so bad. At least she wasn’t pathetic like Megan. At least she didn’t have to preen and pluck herself to be worthwhile.
She found the door, picked the lock, and tucked it in her side pocket. She still liked to collect them.
“Hello?” a voice called from inside the darkened room.
Frei peeked inside at the girls. They ranged from barely older than kindergarten to late teens. All of them ready to be shipped to their buyers.
She smiled. Now to show what happened when Megan tried double-crossing her.
I dropped the lock back in the pocket. Sweat poured from me as I stumbled.
Renee caught hold of me, her eyes full of worry. “Aeron, what just happened?”
The room swayed. I felt so tired. “Frei, she was sixteen maybe. Megan was trying to get her caught.”
Renee pulled her cell phone out, placed something in it which
attached to a wire in her ear. “Bess, it’s Renee . . . yes I know . . . it’s very clever isn’t it?” She helped me as I wobbled. “Can you get ready to drive the car around to pick us up?”
Girls like her sister. Girls who would be sold for their bodies. Girls who had been kept unaware of even the most basic things about growing up. They didn’t need to know. Did they even realize they were slaves?
I stared down at my hands. I wasn’t touching the lock now. Why was I still hearing the memory? My hands were grimy from the banister. They trembled. My knees trembled. “Renee . . . I . . .”
My knees hit the floor first. I grunted with the pain of it. Renee had been holding my arm, and she staggered not to clatter down with me.
“What?” She touched my forehead. Her focus on her phone. “Are you sure?”
“You got sugar?” I felt nausea curl through my gut. “I need somethin’.”
Renee pulled out a bar from her jacket, peeled off the wrapper, and placed it to my lips.
I chewed, frantic, desperate for the boost.
“We have to get you moving, okay?” she asked.
I shook my head, devouring the bar.
“There’s a patrol that’s just pulled up.” She glanced at the door. “Private company logo your aunt said.”
“Tell her to pull back and wait.”
Renee frowned.
“Please. I ain’t got the energy to argue.” My head fizzed, fuzzed up and my fingertips tingled. I dropped onto my hands, fighting the black out.
“Pull back. Aeron . . . pull . . . back . . .”
Renee’s voice faded in and out. Distant . . . too distant.
Chapter 33
JESSIE BIT HER lip, her worry felt heavier than the damp in her chest. Miss Locks wasn’t holding up very well. Her eyes were glazed and when she was awake, which wasn’t often, she wasn’t making much sense. She had taught herself to read German but she couldn’t understand it spoken . . . well slurred.
“Nan, I don’t know what to do,” she whispered, dribbling some water onto Miss Lock’s cracked lips.
A sigh sounded next to her ear, and she jumped. “Mousey, I’m thinkin’ we gotta get her someplace else.”
Jessie nodded. She agreed but she didn’t think she could carry her. “There’s a guard outside but I don’t really know how to get out.” She looked up at the window they’d nearly escaped through. “I can’t lift her up there. I know she unlocked the door but I’m not her, Nan.”
“I ain’t really allowed to tell you things,” Nan said, making a humming sound. A sound that Jessie had heard Miss Samson use a lot when she was thinking. “You’re in a rundown part, but you got in a different way, didn’t you, Mousey?”
Jessie nodded. “I crawled through a window in the main part of the building.” She dabbed at Miss Lock’s brow. “But I don’t think we can both squeeze through that.”
“So what made you pick that window?” It was clear Nan was trying to help her.
Jessie shook herself to try and focus. “I picked it because a lot of the buildings they hide . . . well . . . captives . . .” She hated the word slave. “They have windows that look like they’re cut in half.” She scowled. She’d worked that out from analyzing buildings and architect plans. “It’s a way that traders know they’ve come to the right place.”
“Atta girl, keep thinkin’ on it.” Nan whooshed to her side. “What else?”
Jessie sat straighter, she could figure this out. It was just like any puzzle. “Many of them have a similar layout. That way, buyers always have an escape if the authorities raid them.” She rubbed her freezing hand across her brow and coughed. She felt achy. It made it hard to think. “This part is where they keep the . . .”
“Captives,” Nan said in a gentle tone.
“Yeah, the ones they sell . . .” She shut her eyes. It was hard to think of others being locked in these places, locked away to be sold off.
She shuddered, coughed, and wheezed. Asthma was a pain in the gluteus maximus—she frowned at herself—technically the buttocks were superimposed on the maximus and medius muscles but this was no time to be picky.
“So what’s next to the cells?”
“Normally a corridor that leads to the office. The man who is in charge of selling them is stationed there.” She clenched her fists. She’d broken out the ones locked in here but the guards had taken it out on Miss Locks. “He said . . .”
She frowned. Wait. A spark of hope flickered inside her. “He needed to round them up.”
“Uh huh, which means?” Nan sounded like she was urging her, urging her toward the answer.
“There’s only one guard outside.” Nan’s whoop made Jessie chuckle. “He’s still a lot bigger than me, Nan.”
“But you seen Icy in action, ain’t you?” Nan breezed over to Miss Locks and she stirred. “She gave you some pointers?”
Jessie stood up. “She did.” She bit her lip again, staring at the door. “I’m scared.”
“You ain’t on your own, go floor a thug an’ I’ll rouse Icy.”
Jessie nodded. She could do this . . . she hoped. “How will you . . . ?”
Miss Locks gasped and opened her eyes. She looked like someone had poured ice over her.
“Get movin’.”
Jessie hurried to the door. She pulled it open slowly and ducked behind it as the guard outside turned.
The guard scowled. “What?”
He peered into the room.
“What . . . How . . . ?”
Jessie managed to duck out of the way before he flattened her with the door.
The guard grabbed for his radio.
Jessie slapped his hand away.
He turned and raised his fist.
Uh oh.
Miss Locks appeared next to him. Smacked him—her fist catching him under the chin. He dropped to the floor with a groan.
Miss Locks staggered. Jessie hurried over and guided her to the open door. She stooped down, took the guard’s radio, his pistol, and his keys.
“Good work,” Miss Locks slurred.
Jessie tucked herself into the crook of her arm and helped her out of the room. She locked the door with the keys, hoping it would keep him busy for a while.
“We’ll get you to the office. There’ll be a back door.” Jessie felt Miss Locks wheezing as they walked. “Do you need my inhaler?”
Miss Locks froze.
Jessie glanced up at her. “Are you—?”
Miss Locks shoved her into a room on the left.
“Silent alarm,” Miss Locks managed, shutting the door behind them. “If you stray off his patrol route it will alert them.”
Jessie looked around. An examination room. She’d researched enough to know it was to make sure no slaves were pregnant. She didn’t like to know how they found out. There was a desk with a phone on it in the corner. Maybe they could call someone?
She hurried over to it. “I’ll call in Miss Samson . . . She’ll come and get us out.”
Miss Locks gripped her arm. Pulled her behind a medical screen. The door to the room opened. There weren’t meant to be any more guards.
Miss Locks leaned heavily on the wall, sweat shiny on her forehead.
What did they do now?
Chapter 34
A SHARP SMELL of something made me splutter. I snapped open my eyes, knowing we were still stuck in the warehouse. My knees were damp from the puddles on the floor.
“Frei. She set a lot of girls free. Megan set a trap and she side-stepped it then landed her own blow,” I whispered.
I’d seen Frei rerouting alarms, linking them to the police, setting traps for anyone who would give chase.
I got the flash of her stepping around the traps, silent, as she worked. “She makes me warm and fuzzy sometimes.”
Renee nodded. She pulled me to my feet with her eyes on the door. “Yes, she has that effect.”
I cocked my head as Renee dropped her eyes to her cell. Something fell into place. It made per
fect sense and I didn’t know why I hadn’t seen it before. “You love her, right?”
Renee frowned at the phone, mumbling about the fact Aunt Bess wasn’t answering. “Of course, what’s not to love?”
Yeah, who could compete with her? She was athletic, strong, true, and the most loyal person I’d ever met. “You fit.”
Renee murmured something then sighed and looked up from her phone. “Not as fit as she is. If we wait here, maybe the patrol will sweep around and leave?”
A kind of acceptance rolled through me. She loved Frei. I went to explain what I meant, that they fit well together but a breeze filtered through the space between Renee and I.
“Shorty, you ladies need to get movin’.” Nan’s tone sent ripples of panic up and down my arms.
“What is it?” Renee pocketed her cell and pulled out her pistol in between me blinking.
“Icy needs you to bring meds,” Nan said, her breeze rippling with her worry. “Real sick. You got company.”
Her presence vanished and Renee grabbed me and dragged me toward the door.
“No.” I stopped her and looked down the corridor. “Frei went this way.”
Renee tugged at my arm. “Aeron, we need to leave.”
Voices, raised voices cut through the silence: Men calling to one another, crackling radios.
I tensed.
The ratcheting of guns.
Big guns.
“Assault rifles,” Renee muttered. She tugged at my vest and tapped it, and then yanked me down the corridor. “Keep talking to me, Lorelei, I need your direction.”
I nodded. I knew I could sense what the guys with guns were planning on doing to who was inside but Renee didn’t act like she did. I was glad of that. I rubbed at the lump of metal my dad had given me. It bounced against my vest as we hurried along. I’d hung it around my neck on a shoelace ’cause it just wouldn’t fit any place else.
“Won’t need it,” Renee said, calm and in full protection mode. “You have me.”
We stopped as the corridor split two ways. I clamped my eyes shut, praying Frei’s memory was strong enough to show me and that I wouldn’t pass out.