Second Spirit -4- by Melanie Brown

Second Spirit

By

Melanie Brown

Advisor: Lisa Charlene
Copyright © 2024

Part 4

I needed to get out of the view from the hospital. Not caring where it took me, I darted down an alley. The alley emptied into a side street that still went towards the hospital. Well, shit. No matter what I do, my little girl legs just can’t travel far enough to give me enough distance.

This wasn’t going to work. They know I can’t get much distance on foot. They don’t even have to hurry. As I ran up the street, I came across an apartment building. Lying on the ground was a bicycle some kid foolishly discarded. It would still be slow but better than running. I jumped on the bike and sped off towards a residential area. My pursuers won’t know I’ve got wheels. Not yet, anyway.

I came across another bicycle lying in a yard. I hopped off my current bike and grabbed this other one. Hopefully changing bikes will throw off anyone trying to follow me. I heard sirens in the distance. Surely, they wouldn’t waste police to chase a little girl.

Another turn, and I started rolling through a shopping center. I could easily lose any trail in here. Riding past a couple of fast-food joints reminded me that I was getting hungry. I had no money, so screw that. But where to now? Crossing the shopping center looked like it would take me to a road leading out of town. But I’d get nowhere fast on a bicycle. Could I hitch a ride? Nobody would pick up a little girl trying to hitch a ride. Nobody on the up and up anyway. Damn!

I started to turn around when I found myself blocked by a large man leaning against a car. He had the door open, also blocking my path. He grinned at me. Another man walked up from behind me. I stepped off the now useless bike so I could run.

The grinning man said, “Hey, little girl. Do you need a hiding place? On our police radio, it said to be on the lookout for a little Indian girl dressed the way you are.”

The guy behind me grabbed my arm. “We can help you.” I bet they can. This is bad. Really bad. “Let us take you away from here.” He reached out to me.

Terrified, I took a few steps back. Smiling, the two men stepped towards me. I grinned nervously and pointed at my ear, and said, “No habla.” Okay, it’s not Navajo, but it gets the point across. The sound of police sirens got closer.

One of the men said, “She doesn’t understand.”

The other man frowned. “Oh, she understands, all right.” He grabbed my arm before I could run. I screamed, and he slapped a hand over my mouth. “Shut up, you little bitch.”

I bit his hand, hard, and he yowled in pain. I jumped up on the hood of the car parked behind these two clowns and slid across. Damnation, the metal was hot on my legs. I was desperate to call for help. I shouted, “Help!” But there was no one around close enough to hear.

“Grab her, Carl!” shouted the man behind me.

Carl jumped over the hood of their car and slid to the pavement, reaching out to me. I slapped his hand away. I jumped up into the bed of a pickup truck parked among the other cars.

The guy behind me jumped onto the bumper of the car behind the truck. Like many pickups, the bed of this one was filled with junk. Lying on the bed’s floor was a large, rusty crescent wrench. I could barely lift it, but I swung it in a wide arc, catching him on his lower jaw. With a howl of pain, he fell out of the truck. The wrench also flew from my hands.

Carl started to climb up into the bed. I found a large screwdriver and swung it viciously at his head. I missed, and he grabbed my hand. Squeezing my wrist, he hissed, “Drop it, bitch!”

I yelled, “Help!” as the other man came up behind me and wrested the screwdriver from my grasp. I looked around desperately. Damn! This has to be the most fucking empty parking lot in existence. Carl managed to stuff a rag into my mouth. I did bite his thumb. It tasted awful.

I was pulled from the truck and slammed against the side of their car. The other man managed to pull a smelly, black bag over my head. The rag muffled my screams for help. Little good that did anyway. A zip tie gruffly secured my wrists, and I was tossed into their car’s back seat.

As they slammed the back door closed, Carl said, “She’s quite the hell cat.”

The other man laughed. “Shit. Some buyers like ‘em like that.”

Carl laughed.

                    *

I woke to silence in a darkened room. The bag was off my head. I felt my wrists still tied with zip ties. I had a headache. I was sitting in a wooden chair. The only light source seemed to be a light bulb hanging from the ceiling.

“You’re awake,” said a voice from my left. I looked over and saw a shirtless boy who appeared to be an Indian. He said something that I thought must have been Navajo. I gave him a blank stare. He asked, “English?” I nodded. He was also tied to a wooden chair. “I’m guessing you’re a runaway too?”

I nodded. “Where the hell are we?”

“We appear to be the guests of human traffickers. I’ve only been here three days, and there’ve been as many as four girls in here with me.”

“You’ve been here three days?” I croaked. My throat was dry.

The boy shrugged. “I don’t know what they have planned for me. They might keep us here for their own pleasure. Listening to them, Carl likes little boys, and Joey likes little girls. I think we’re being kept to be their own toys.”

I jerked my wrists against the zip ties and rattled the chair. “We got to get out of here.”

The boy laughed without humor. “I’m open to suggestions.”

I worked my wrists against the zip tie. “There’s a trick to escaping a zip tie. I’ve watched a few YouTube videos about it. I’ve done it once at a party where I was zip-tied.”

The boy looked at me curiously. “What kind of parties do you go to?”

I just grinned as I felt the tie start to slide a bit.

“By the way, my name is Kajika. Kajika Rainwater,” announced Kajika Rainwater. “What’s your name?”

I grunted as I strained against the tie. “I’m Jack Shit.”

Kajika frowned. “No need to be rude. I didn’t bring you here.”

“Sorry. I don’t have a name. I’m new here.”

Kajika nodded. “I guess that’s why I didn’t recognize you.”

I looked over at the boy. “Are you related to that tribal elder guy?” I kept twisting my wrists.

Kajika nodded. “He’s my grandfather.”

I think I’m getting close to squeezing my hand free. “So why run away?”

“Well, my dad…”

A door opened, and I could hear someone coming down some wooden stairs. Four bearded men lined up in front of us. One was Carl.

Carl said, “Here’s the set we were telling you about. We’d like to keep them as a pair, but we’re ready to make a deal.”

A man wearing dark sunglasses and speaking with a heavy Middle Eastern accent asked, “Their ages?”

Carl barked, “Boy! What’s your age.”

Kajika snarled, “Fuck you.” Then he added something in Navajo.

Carl chuckled. “Reliable sources place him at around thirteen. Girl, how old are you?”

I nodded towards Kajika. “Same as  him, fuck you.”

Carl shook his head. “We estimate the girl’s age to be eleven or twelve.”

The man with the accent said, “Both are feisty. Excellent.”

“That’s why we’re asking a higher price,” said Carl matter-of-factly. If you want to wait, we can break them for you before delivery.”

The man grinned broadly. “Oh, I want the pleasure of that. That glint of hate rather than fear in her eyes promises a wild experience.” I didn’t know this was an audition. I stiffened and switched to my best poker face, but it was probably game over.

The man said something in a language I didn’t understand to the other two men. They all grinned and nodded.

Carl casually ran his fingers through my long, black hair. “So. Do we have a deal?”

The man grinned. “We have a deal.” He handed Carl a card. “Deliver to this address in Santa Fe.” He snapped his fingers at one of the other men. “Half payment now, the rest upon delivery.”

Carl shook the man’s hand. “Always a pleasure, Prince.”

Carl led his entourage back up the stairs.

I looked over at Kajika and frowned. “Well, shit.”

End of Part 4