Blood Donor

by Karen Bass

  “Toilet flushing. There are some boys on the other side of the wall.”

  “B-boys?” This was crazy.

  “Uh-huh.” She snorted and left me alone. They all did.

  I leaned over the sink and struggled to understand what the girls had said. Had we really been kidnapped? That made no sense. It couldn’t be true. But I sort of remembered a smell in the car. And blacking out.

  My stomach started lurching again. I made it to a toilet in time to heave all my pizza. I returned to the sink, splashed water on my face and dried it off on a damp towel. Kidnapped. Shit.

  The girls were all back at the table, but no one was eating. I slid into the same place on the bench, head down.

  “I’m Red,” said the redheaded girl. Really original.

  The girl beside her said, “I’m Skip. I always skipped school until they kicked me out. Then my parents gave me the boot too.” She turned red, which made her scar glow again.

  On the other side of the table, a girl with blond hair with a fading streak of green through it gave me a weak smile. “Priss.”

  The girl with the spiky hair nodded to me. “I’m Thorn.”

  “Jo.” I rubbed my thighs. Willed my voice to sound normal. “What’s the deal? Why us?”

  “Homeless,” Red said.

  “Okay, but I’m not homeless. I was just kicked out for missing curfew. Mom expects me home in a day or two.”

  “Lucky.” Priss sighed with longing.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Why would someone want to snatch street kids?”

  Thorn shrugged. “No one will miss us.”

  “My mom will. My friends at school will.”

  “Great,” Red replied. “So maybe someone will actually look for you.”

  “And find all of us,” Priss added.

  Thorn rolled her eyes. “Not likely.”

  “I don’t get it.” I bit my lip as phrases like “human trafficking” ran through my mind. Were we going to be sold to someone? For sex? Double shit. “Why are we here?”

  Anger flashed in Thorn’s face. “We have something they want.”

  “Which is?”

  “Our blood.”

  Chapter Four

  “Our blood? What do you mean?” I cried.

  “You heard her.” Red stood. “I’m tired of talking.” She strode into the bedroom. Skip followed.

  “She’s been here the longest,” Priss said. “A few months maybe? More?” She sighed. “It’s been seventeen days for me. I wish…” Her eyes looked shimmery. She sniffed and scurried to the bedroom as well.

  I gave Thorn a worried look. “Please tell me they aren’t always so unwilling to talk about this.”

  “Usually.” Thorn opened the pepperoni pizza box. “Two pieces left. Want to try again? You’ll be starving later if you don’t.”

  “I guess. But can you please fill me in on what you know?” I took a slice and smelled it. Amazingly my stomach didn’t rebel. I started to nibble the pizza.

  “As near as we can tell, we’re in the basement of a mansion.”

  “An old one.”

  Thorn nodded. “Every few days a pair of leeches—”

  “Leeches?”

  “That’s what we call our guards. Two of them come and take one of us away. Sometimes they talk while they’re taking our blood. We’ve learned they used to have walk-in clinics that took blood from street kids. But the city closed them down. Not legal. This caused big problems for them, so we are the fix for now. Until they get something else figured out.”

  “What are they using the blood for?”

  She nudged the pizza box and nodded. I hadn’t realized I’d finished my piece. I took the last one.

  Thorn licked her lips. “Near as we can tell, they run a high-end spa for super-rich people.”

  “A spa? But that’s massages and pedicures. Where does blood come in?”

  “This spa specializes in anti-aging remedies. I snuck a pamphlet off a desk by the blood room. Got in shit when they caught me. The spa’s called Re-JUVE-nation. Capitalized j-u-v-e, as in juveniles. As in us. Apparently some scientists think a young person’s blood can help a body heal itself.”

  “What the fuck?”

  “Exactly.” Thorn closed the pizza box and piled it on top of the other one. “On the bright side, they feed us takeout food—and lots of it. They want to keep us strong, I guess. Don’t want to sell those rich folks weak blood.” She shoved the boxes into a garbage bag in the corner.

  My mind was exploding. I was trying to figure out the setup. “How often do they take your blood?”

  “Every two weeks.” A frown wrinkled Thorn’s brow. “I gave blood a few times at one of their street clinics. For cash. Looked it up at the library first to find out how it worked. It said you’re supposed to wait between each time you donate.”

  I saw where this was going. “More than two weeks?”

  “Closer to two months. And those street clinics weren’t even doing that.”

  “So they’re taking your blood too often. Is it making you sick?”

  “Weak. Tired. We’re all pretty pale.” She gave a crooked smile. “I just hide it better than the others.”

  I laughed, then covered my mouth. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I meant to be funny. Laughing is better than crying, my grandmother used to say.”

  “So how do we get out?”

  Thorn studied me for a moment. “Don’t you think we’ve tried?”

  “There has to be a way.”

  Her tone turned angry. “Go ahead and look then. You aren’t going to find anything.”

  I shrugged. “New eyes. Can’t hurt.”

  “Good luck. Look, I have to crash.”

  “That’s what you all do? Eat, then sleep?”

  “Yeah. That’s all you’ll be doing too after they’ve taken blood a few times.” Thorn swung to her feet and walked slowly toward the doorway into the bedroom, hand running along the wall. When she got there, she paused. “I don’t think we have much time. I overheard something about a plan to move the operation to a bigger place farther from the city. So I really hope you find a way out before that.”

  “Why?”

  “I have a bad feeling. All I know is, there must be a lot of money in this for them to go to the trouble of kidnapping kids. And I’m not sure they’ll risk moving us.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “Moving the spa is one thing. But moving kidnapped kids? Risky stuff. It would be easier to drain us.”

  Horror hit me. “You mean…?”

  “I mean take all our blood. Make sure the bodies won’t be found. Don’t forget we’re all street kids who will never be missed.”

  Chapter Five

  Dreams of being thrown into a giant compost bin made me toss and turn all night. I would have slept through breakfast, but Priss shook me awake. “Come on. Thorn said you need to fuel up. They’ll be coming for you today.”

  They. The leeches. I shuddered. I’d spent a lot of the previous day feeling sure it was all a dream. That feeling was wearing off. Was Mom missing me yet? Had Emily called to ask why I wasn’t in school? And worst of all, did these creeps who were using us to get rich really see us as trash to just throw away? Did everyone think that about homeless teens? About me?

  Breakfast looked amazing. Orange juice, egg sandwiches and a huge pile of bacon. It all tasted like dust. Fueling us up, Priss had said. Filling us up to drain us. Drain me. Today.

  My stomach started a slow churn.

  “Hey,” Thorn said. “You’re looking green. Don’t think about it. Think about something else. Favorite TV show maybe. What is it?”

  “Can we watch TV? I tried to last night when you all went to bed so early, but I could only get Netflix.”

  “No cable for us,” Red muttered.

  Thorn shrugged. “Probably don’t want us seeing any news.”

  “Could curdle our blood if we get upset.” Red grabbed more bacon.

  “C
an it?” I asked.

  Thorn snorted and shook her head. “Wouldn’t our blood already be bad then? Just from being kidnapped?”

  “Speak for yourself,” Skip said. “This is the best I’ve eaten in over a year. And no hiding in a back alley under cardboard to sleep. We’ve got showers. Stuff to watch.” She blushed again and I wondered if she got that scar from living on the street.

  “Yeah. It’s an awesome prison,” Thorn sneered.

  I listened to the back-and-forth. It seemed like Thorn was the only one really upset by being here. So she was probably the only one who could be counted on to help with any escape attempts. Skip was definitely a person to avoid.

  After breakfast Red, Skip and Priss parked themselves in front of a movie. They argued, then decided to watch an oldie called The Net. Thorn followed me into the bedroom, where we searched for vents or any weaknesses around the window. Nothing. I had hoped for a hidden opening into whatever was beyond this wall. But the window was secure, and there weren’t any hidden doors. No secret passages.

  “What kind of castle is this?” I muttered. What I wanted to do was scream. With frustration. With growing dread.

  We moved to the main room and checked each of the four windows, but they were blocked off by mesh on the inside. The frosted glass hid whatever was outside.

  I leaned against the wall by the last window and looked around. “What was this room before?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Old mansions had servants. I bet this was where the servants worked or lived, or both.”

  “So?”

  “Lots of windows. A big old table that was probably here forever. It was probably the kitchen.”

  “And if it was?”

  “Where are the cupboards? The places where stoves and fridges sat? Stoves have fans that blow the stink outside. Where was that?”

  “Did stoves have that a hundred years ago?”

  “Maybe not.” A thought hit me. “Hey, are they watching us? If we’re looking for a way out, we don’t want them to know.”

  “Not that I’ve found. Not in these rooms anyway. That would be super creepy.”

  “Yeah.”

  Red shouted, “Will you two shut up already? Do your detective shit when we aren’t watching something.”

  “Yeah fine,” Thorn said. She whispered to me, “Red thinks she’s in charge and could beat any of our asses, so we try to keep her happy.”

  I narrowed my eyes and studied Red. In the past year I’d done some wrestling—until Dad had made me quit. Red wouldn’t have it easy if she picked a fight with me.

  Talking with Thorn helped keep me from going crazy. At least I felt like I was doing something. Not just waiting for bad shit to happen.

  Thorn went to have a shower. I started to pace. Into the bedroom and to the window, back out through the living room, down the hall to the locked outer door, then back to the bedroom window. Again. And again. Without Thorn’s calm presence, I was beginning to freak out.

  I was marching toward the outer door for the third time when a voice above it barked, “Back away from the door.”

  My heart raced. I’d never noticed the black speaker high in the shadows.

  The voice repeated, “Back away from the door. Stand against the wall.”

  Quivering, I backed up ten steps. Pressed myself against the wall. Air pumped in and out of my lungs. Too fast. Stay calm, I kept telling myself. It wasn’t working though.

  Three people walked in. Men, women, I couldn’t tell. They wore masks and headgear like riot police. Blue medical gloves. Long-sleeved blue coveralls. White runners.

  One of them said, “That’s her.” A woman.

  I bolted. Burst into the living room. “The leeches are here!” I felt my panic turning me into a wide-eyed crazy person. I yelled, “Where can we hide?”

  “There’s no hiding, you stupid bitch,” Red said. She and the other two continued watching their movie.

  I raced into the bedroom. Kicked over three cots. Their metal frames were light. Fear gave me strength as I piled them in front of me in a corner. Maybe if I made it hard for these people, they wouldn’t take me. Maybe I could fight them off.

  Two of the guards entered the bedroom. One said, “Ah, shit.” A man. “We aren’t going to hurt you. Just come along nicely, little girl.”

  “Go to hell,” I spat.

  Both guards advanced. I hooked my arms and feet around the cot frames. The guards heaved the mattresses out of the way. They stopped on the other side of my cot fence.

  I snarled, “Leave me alone.”

  The man spoke again. “Doesn’t work that way, sweetheart.”

  Panic exploded into rage. “No!” I flung a cot frame at him, knocking him down. I jumped over the pile.

  A hand grabbed my ankle. I fell hard. A knee landed in the middle of my back. Air burst out of me, and I couldn’t breathe. My lungs burned. Seconds later I gasped in air and started to struggle. But the two guards already had hold of my arms. They dragged me out of the bedroom.

  I sprang forward and freed one arm. But the bigger guard held tight. I got two hits in before the other one got hold of my arm again. Now I was facing the ceiling as they dragged me from the room. I screamed for help.

  My last view as they tugged me through the outer door was of the other girls watching from the far end of the hallway. None of them moved.

  Chapter Six

  The guards pulled me into an elevator a few steps past the dungeon door. To the right I saw a long hallway that I assumed led to the area where they held the boys Red had mentioned.

  The guards let me stand up in the elevator but kept both arms pinned behind me. I shifted, and one twisted my arm, sending a spike of pain through me. I cried out. Hated that I sounded weak.

  “Don’t make things so difficult,” the woman said. “Every door is locked. Even if you got away for a few seconds, there’s nowhere to run.”

  I slumped. When the door opened, I let them guide me down a short hallway to a room that looked like a doctor’s office. In one corner was a desk. The other wall held a long row of cupboards. Between was a reclining chair in front of a window with the blinds down. The guards set me in it, then tied down my arms. They raised the footrest and tied down my feet.

  “Relax,” the woman said.

  I stared at her. “Relax? You just tied me to a chair, and that’s supposed to make me think everything is fine? Relax?”

  The woman shrugged. “It will hurt less.” She rolled up my shirt sleeve. Then she opened a cupboard beside the chair. It was full of supplies I assumed were for taking blood. The woman took a long piece of rubber and tied it around my upper arm. “Clench your fist.”

  “No.”

  One of the other guards stepped forward and stood by my knees. He forced my hand into a fist. I tried to force it open but couldn’t. Which apparently was what the female guard wanted.

  Something jabbed my inner arm just below my elbow. “Ouch!”

  “Stop being stupid,” the woman said. It sounded like she was clenching her teeth. She undid the rubber tie.

  She and the other guard stepped back. Blood was flowing in slow motion through a tiny tube. I watched its progress and bit my lip as the first of the blood reached a plastic collection bag.

  I had a thought. “How do you know my blood is safe? I might have a horrible disease. Cancer. Or… or HIV.”

  “We took a sample when you first arrived and were still sleeping.”

  “You know you’ll go to jail for this.”

  The man laughed. “For what? We’re feeding homeless kids, giving you somewhere to sleep.”

  “I have a family!”

  “You all do. But they don’t care, do they?” he said.

  I winced. Mom cared, but would she be brave enough to do anything? If Dad said no, would she still come looking for me?

  The man laughed. “That’s what I thought. Your family doesn’t care any more than the ones of the kids in that hole.”


  “Shush,” the woman said to the man. “We’ll be back in a few minutes, when you’re finished donating,” she said to me. Then they all left and closed the door.

  Donating. What a joke. That made it sound like I had agreed to do this. I was afraid to move the arm with the needle in it, but I tried to turn my other arm. The band was too tight. Tears welled in my eyes, and I blinked them back. I glanced up and saw a camera in the opposite corner. They were watching. Anger replaced my fear. I mouthed, Fuck you.

  As the minutes ticked slowly by, I made a list in my mind of all the places I could search for a way out. I watched the bag get fatter. Filling up with my blood. The thought made me feel woozy.

  When the guards returned, one stood in the hallway. The other two entered the room. While the smaller one took out the needle, the bigger one undid the band on my other arm. He turned to the third person, who handed over a tray. The bigger guard flipped down two sets of legs on the tray, then set it on the chair arm. The legs held it in place.

  The female guard said, “Orange juice and chocolate-chip cookies. Eat them. It will help you feel better.”

  “I feel fine. Let me up.”

  “No. You’re going to sit here for fifteen minutes. And you’re going to eat your cookies.”

  I almost laughed. She sounded like a mother, but no mother had ever had to force their child to eat cookies. “I said no.” I reached over and started playing with the strap that held down my other arm. I found the release and unhooked it.

  “Don’t be foolish,” the woman said. She crossed her arms, obviously pissed off that I wasn’t listening.

  The taller one leaned against the doorway. “Let her do what she wants. She’ll learn.”

  With a sigh, the woman stepped back. “Please drink your juice.”

  “Go to hell.”

  I rubbed my arm, which was sore from the needle. The woman had taped a piece of cotton over the needle hole. A small circle of red was growing on the white cotton ball. I bent my arm and held it close to my chest. I kicked down the footrest and stood up.

  The room started to turn and tilt. “What…?” I stumbled. I shook my head. That made the room turn faster.