Fleeting Moments (19 page)

She steps in with a tray in her hands, her eyes darting around nervously. I leap up, but manage to slow myself down as I move closer to her. I don’t want to freak her out. “Hayley,” I say softly. “It’s nice to see you again.”

She looks to me, and then turns and stares behind her. She walks in and puts the new tray down and picks up the still full breakfast one.

“Hayley,” I prompt. “Please.”

Her eyes meet mine. “I’m afraid,” she says softly.

“I know. I know you are. So am I. I need your help.”

She shakes her head a little, glancing behind her again. “I c-c-c-can’t help.”

“You can help. You can leave this door open by mistake for me. I need to get out of here. I need to help my friends. They don’t deserve to die, and that’s what he’s going to do to them. Do you understand?”

Her eyes get big. “If he says that’s what needs to happen, I cannot defy him.”

“Do you really believe that?”

She nods hurriedly and rushes towards the door.

“Have you ever had a normal childhood, Hayley?” I say to her back, my heart pounding. “Have you ever been to the beach? Or eaten ice cream in a cute little diner? Or had a boyfriend who isn’t old enough to be your grandfather? It’s a beautiful world out there. He’s keeping you in here against your will.”

She’s frozen on the spot, and I wonder if she’s going to scream for a moment, her body is so tight.

“Have you ever been on a rollercoaster?” she whispers so quietly I barely hear her.

“I have, Hayley, and so can you. If you let me get out of here, I’ll get you out, too.”

“I d-d-d-don’t remember what life is like out there.”

“It’s amazing, and it’s fun, and you can just be a kid and worry about things like being late for school.”

“I don’t remember school,” she says softly.

I take a weary step closer. “Hayley, I can help you. I promise you that. I won’t let anyone hurt you; I’ll get you out of here.”

“No,” she says quickly. “No, I can’t.”

“Hayley, please.”

A man appears in the doorway and glares at her. “Hurry up.”

She scurries out, and I reach a hand to the empty space.

God dammit.

I was so close.

I have to get out of here.

~*~*~*~

“G
et up.”

I let my eyes flutter open. I jerk upright, realizing I fell asleep against my will. Josh is back and standing by the bed. My skin prickles and I scurry off the other side, body still weak from sleep.

“What do you want?” I say, my voice thick.

“Step forward.”

“Get fucked.”

He makes an angry sound in his throat and raises a hand, waving it. Two men approach me, with clenched fists, and I launch back over the bed and roll off the side closest to him. He lashes out, curling his hand around my wrist. I scream and launch a foot in his direction, kicking him so hard he takes a few shaky steps backwards. I roll to my hands and knees and charge towards the door. I don’t get far. A hand catches my ponytail and launches me up. I scream as pain shoots through my scalp. Tears burn under my eyelids, but I swallow them down, refusing to let my fear show.

“Let me go!” I scream.

“Cuff her.”

A second later, my hands are jerked behind my back and I’m being cuffed.

“You’re going to come and watch one of our ceremonies, maybe learn a thing or two.”

No.

“No.” I squirm, but the men behind me are bigger and stronger. I’m shoved out of the room and dragged through the shed.

When we get outside, it’s night and the campfire is roaring, surrounded by a solid fifty people in white gowns. Vomit rises in my throat and I try to dig my heels in as my feet drag through the dirt. Even though nothing happens—I just keep moving and fighting. The people part as he walks through ahead of me, bowing down, worshipping him. Sick. It’s sick. As we reach the center clearing, he puts his hands out either side of him and says, “My children, tonight I have a new member.”

“I’m not a fucking member!” I spit, and a few gasps can be heard.

“As you can hear, she’s defiant. We’ve had a few non-believers in here, and we’ve managed to show them the way. I’m confident she’ll soon believe, too.”

He can keep dreaming.

“Now, we shall begin.”

He closes his eyes, arms still out beside him, and he starts chanting. Everyone starts swaying from side to side, closing their eyes and chanting with him. It makes me feel ill and I try to block it out, but their chant becomes louder and louder and they seem to fall deeper into it with every passing second. Even the men holding me murmur the words I don’t understand.

I want it to stop.

“Bring her forward.”

My eyes dart to the left where the crowd parts and a young girl is brought in. She’s naked, possibly about seventeen, and her hair is pale blond and falling around her body in long waves. I struggle in my holders’ grips, but they don’t move. No. She’s too young to be caught up in this. “Let her go!” I yell. “You sick bastard. Let her go.”

The girl’s eyes flicker to mine, and she looks scared. She doesn’t want to be here.

“Silence,” Josh barks.

The girl kneels down before the fire, hair falling over her frail body. I can’t watch this. I won’t watch this. I scream and thrash, forcing my body to make the biggest scene I can by moving as much as possible. I do this until Josh storms forward, curling a hand into my hair and pushing downward. The men holding me kneel, forcing me down with them. My knees hit the dirt and my head is shoved down so I’m bowing.

“You will be silent or I’ll make sure you’re taken care of in a way you will not like,” he hisses into my ear.

Tears finally break free and roll down my cheeks.

He stands and goes back to what he was doing, beginning another chant. I clench my eyes shut and don’t open them again.

Not even when the sounds around me threaten to haunt my mind forever.

I
’m curled on the bed.

I don’t want to move.

I feel sick.

I want to go home.

It’s easily past midnight. The place is eerily silent. I can’t sleep—I
won’t
sleep. I wonder how many other girls they have in this place against their will. Have those kids been here since they were born? Are their parents here? Were they taken without anyone knowing? Did they join? I have so many questions and so few answers.

The door clicks and I press the pillow to my chest, my heart pounding. The door opens and a second later, Hayley appears with a small lantern in her hands. I leap off the bed and rush over. “Hayley, what are you doing here?”

“I want to go,” she says softly. “I want to go.”

My heart pounds. “Okay. Okay, honey. You have to show me how to get out of here.”

She nods, and her face is so panic-stricken I want to take her into my arms and hold her tightly, but I can’t. I will, though. We must be smart of the time we have together to plan our escape. When we get out of here, I’ll make sure she has a chance. I’ll make sure she’s okay.

“Come on. We don’t have long,” she whispers.

I follow her out into the shed, and she peers around the corner before waving me on. We run across the wooden floors and out the door. There are no people around, but the fire is still crackling, creating light. A tent lit with strings of small lights can be seen to our left, and voices can be heard softly speaking. They’re still awake in there. Hayley pauses and glances towards the gate.

“They might hear us,” she says, so softly I barely hear us.

“Turn the light out.”

Her eyes flash with fear.

“It’ll be okay. Trust me,” I say, reaching out and offering my hand. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

She hesitates, staring at my hand, then she reaches forward cautiously and takes it. I curl my fingers around hers gently, and she flinches. Poor, poor girl. I pull her towards the gate, slowly, and we move out of the camp and into the darkness. Adrenaline pumps through my veins and I can see the exit. I know it’s close.

But then Hayley changes her mind.

Another moment that defines our paths.

She lets go of my hand and cries, “I can’t do this. I’ll be punished. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Hayley,” I say, trying to keep my voice low. “Please, I know you’re scared, but—”

“No,” she shrieks. “HELP!”

God dammit.

“Hayley, I won’t hurt you,” I say, reaching for her hand again.

“Don’t touch me,” she cries. “No. I’m sorry. I made a mistake.”

“It’s okay. Please believe I won’t hurt you.”

“Who’s out there?” a voice calls.

I look in the direction of the tent lit with lights, and see five men stomping out of the entrance. Then I look to the gate. I have seconds. Hayley is backing away. I need to get out of here.

“I’ll come back for you, Hayley. Please know that you’re better off out of this place, but I won’t force you. I do promise to help you, though.”

“She’s running away,” she screams.

My heart breaks for her, because I know deep down in her soul, she wants to come with me but whatever she’s seen happen to those who disobey in this place terrifies her far more than taking the risk to leave.

I turn and run.

I charge towards the gate, my heart pounding, my body on full alert. I know it’ll be locked. I reach it and rattle it a few times to see if I can make a gap big enough to squeeze through, but I can’t. Voices yell behind me and the sounds of feet pounding can be heard. Lights flash in my direction. There is only one way out.

I have to climb.

I throw myself onto the fence and start moving upwards. A hand curls around my ankle and for a second, I lose my balance, and I’m sure I’m going to fall. I kick out, screaming in frustration as I’m jerked downwards. No. I have to get out of here. I kick again, this time hitting something. An oomph can be heard and then a thud on the ground.

Please don’t let that have been Hayley.

I climb faster and the voices behind me get closer. I reach the top of the fence and hesitate for a split second at the barbed wire. This is going to do some damage. I glance behind me and see three men approaching the base of the fence. “Get the keys, hurry, hurry!” the tallest of the men yells to the others.

No keys.

A few minutes, if I’m lucky.

I take a deep breath, reach up, curl my fingers around the barbed wire to pinch it together, and then I throw myself over. Pain rips through my body as my clothes catch on and the tiny pieces of wire slice into my skin. I cry out and grit my teeth, pushing above and beyond, knowing if I fail now, the consequences on the other side for me are far worse than the pain I’m experiencing in this moment.

I make it over the barbed wire and I taste blood on my lips, from my face or my body, I don’t know. I don’t care. I lower myself down but slip and fall halfway, losing my footing. I land with a thud on the ground, and pain ricochets through my wrist. A strangled scream gets caught in my throat. Oh god. It hurts. I force myself to my feet and try not to glance down at what I’ll already guess is a broken wrist.

Vomit rises up from my stomach as I stumble forward, the voices behind me so close they sound as if they’re right next to me.

I need to run. I want to die.

My entire body burns from the slices the fence created, but my wrist is igniting a pain I’ve never experienced in my life before.

I take two steps and slam into a hard form.

A scream rips from my throat as I try to jump backwards.

“Don’t run.”

That voice.

So familiar.

I try to focus, but I can’t see anything in the dark.

A shoulder meets my stomach and I’m launched into the air.

“No, please,” I croak. It’s pathetic even to my ears.

“It’s Tank. Shut your mouth.”

Tank.

Tank?

I shut my mouth. Mostly because if I open it again, the screams and agonized sobs I’m holding back will surely break free. And I can’t allow that to happen.

Not yet, anyway.

~*~*~*~

T
ank runs.

I don’t know how, considering it’s pitch-black out, but he seems to know where he’s going. Flashlights behind us slowly fade off into the distance as we move into the thick trees. He carries me as if I weigh no more than a bag of flour. The pain is so intense right now that I know I couldn’t have run far before passing out. It’s taking everything to keep myself conscious.

Car lights come into view a few hundred feet ahead, and Tank runs directly towards them. When he reaches the truck, its engine running, the door flings open and Sheldon gets out. “Holy fuck. I heard commotion but I didn’t realize you got her out.”

“I didn’t.” He grunts, putting me on the back seat. “She got out herself.”

“Bad ass,” Sheldon says, but his face quickly turns concerned. “She’s bleeding.”

“She scaled a barbed wire fence, fell halfway down the other side, and broke her wrist.”

I whimper as I stare down at the swollen, angry mess of my wrist.

“Fuck. I’ll call Heath.”

“We need to get the fuck out of here, now,” Tank says. “Do it in the car.”

They both get into the truck and Tank speeds off. I let my body fall down onto the back seat, my mind spinning, pain engulfing my entire body until I can hardly breathe through it.

“We’ve got her.”

I think Sheldon says that. I’m not sure.

“She’s a mess. One our way back.”

Heath?

“Yeah bro, not good. Broken wrist, cuts, fuck knows what else. Be there soon.”

My eyes flutter closed and I cry out in pain, clearly louder than I thought because Sheldon turns in his seat, the phone pressed to his ear. “She’s fine, Heath. Chill. We’re coming.”

“Sheldon?” I croak.

He hangs up the phone and reaches over, taking my good hand. “Yeah?”

“It hurts.”

“I know. It won’t soon. Hang on.”

We go over a bump and just the tap of my wrist against the chair has a scream ripping from my throat.

“Easy, dude,” Sheldon barks.

“Sorry,” Tank mutters.

“Did Tank just say sorry?” I slur as my mind begins to black out from the pain.

“He did. Take it in—it’ll never happen again.”