CHARLOTTE REACHED THE EDGE of the egg factory and disappeared into the darkness alongside it as the floodlights came on at the front. Startled, she lost her footing and stumbled into a shallow stony culvert used for rain run-off that ran the length of the building. She grimaced in pain. Unexpectedly, another set of floodlights above her went on, lighting the tall grass and copse beside her. Frozen in place, she knew she could not linger too long, but worried about why Janet had not entered with her. She examined the stony route she was now destined to follow. Behind her in the pool of light, two men stood in animated conversation while, beyond the light’s edge, several black amorphous shapes trudged toward the farmhouse. When the floodlights from the farmhouse became activated, she gasped. They were carrying Janet's limp body. Janet’s advice echoed in her mind, “We won’t do her or ourselves any good if we’re caught.” Throwing her balaclava to one side she began to make her way along the stony spine of the drainage system. Ahead, a thin slice of light emanated from an open door at the side of the building.
After a couple of minutes of pushing and pulling her body over the stones, she stopped to catch her breath. Muffled tones floated on the evening's air from the open doorway. Pressed against the stone, her ribs began to ache. She noticed that several shapes had now gathered on the lawn area and were fanning out in her direction. She had only one option and she took it. She leapt through the doorway, her face slamming against the sole of a man’s work boot. Tears quickly flooded her eyes as she contained the expletives she wanted so much to scream out.
“I wasn't expecting your face to be a battering ram. Anyway, you certainly took your time about it,” the man whispered, chuckling softly. “Do you normally slide through a door as if you’re stealing second base?” He bent down and removed a metal bar that had kept the door open.
“Juarez? How did you …?”
“We’ll talk about that later. Right now, your nose is bleeding.” Moving beside her, he handed her a clean cloth from his pocket. “Use this to catch the blood. Now, sit up and bend forward. Here, I’ll help you.”
“I don’t need your help!” Brushing off his hand, she sat up crossed-legged and bent forward as directed.
Standing up, he shook his head. “I think you do.”
“Do what?”
“Need my help.” He crouched beside her. “That is, if you want to get out of here alive.” He extended his thumb and forefinger toward her nose, but she swatted it away.
“Do you think I don’t know how to stop a nosebleed?” She pinched the soft part of her nose just below the bridge.
Juarez stood up. “I’m just trying to help.” His eyebrows knitted together. “You do know to pinch it for at least five minutes? I’ll take that nod as a yes. Okay! No more advice.” He rubbed his hands. “Do you think you can be quiet long enough until I return? And that means staying put—no poking around. Get it?”
“Where are you going?”
He held his forefinger to his lips. Grabbing the pen light, which provided their only light, he shoved it in his jean pocket and exited through a door a few metres away.
“Shit! I can’t see a thing!” Her legs were beginning to go numb, and she carefully unfolded them while waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Slowly letting go of her nose, she felt around the nostrils for wetness and, finding none, wiped the area with the cloth that Juarez had given her. Not having any idea how long she would have to wait for Juarez’s return, she decided to find a more comfortable location. Sliding along the floor, she headed toward the door she had come through earlier and leaned against it. Crossing one leg over the other and folding her arms across her chest, she closed her eyes and settled in for what she expected would be a long wait.
Angry voices and barking dogs ejected her from her dreamscape. Her eyes blasted wide open to meet a fully lit room and two burly men, their automatic weapons trained on her. Behind them was Juarez. Something pricked her arm, and she moved her other hand to flick whatever it was away and came face to face with Garcia crouched beside her, a syringe in his hand.
“Stop pounding out there! We’ve got her,” Garcia yelled out in Spanish, standing up and kicking at the door.
Charlotte attempted to keep her eyes open. She shook her head forcefully, splaying a salty brew from her face. It was an action she quickly regretted. Dizziness and disorientation followed with an overwhelming need to puke. After several fruitless retching attempts, she fell back against the wall in a cold sweat, her hands already tied behind her with a zip tie. She could hear her name as she struggled to reach out from the inky dark pool that she now found herself in.
“Charlotte! That nausea is only temporary. Charlotte! Do you hear me?! Force yourself to breathe deeply.”
“Janet?” Her eyelids, now slits, tried to focus on the figure that haphazardly made its way toward her across the dirt floor. Breathing deeply was not a task she relished to do; the stale air smelled of death. “Is that really you?”
“It’s really me, dearie. Now do what I told you. I know it's not the freshest to breathe, but I need you to breathe deeply. That’s it, that’s my girl! Now again, and again. I know, it smells like shit, but believe it or not, you’ll get used to it.” Janet shook her head. “I never thought I’d ever hear myself say that.”
Her legs and hands tied, Janet squirmed her way across the dirt floor and propped herself up beside her. “Thank you for not puking,” she said. “It would have made things so much worse in here.”
Charlotte’s face screwed up as if she had just bitten down hard into a lemon. “No kiddin’,” she mumbled.
“That Novocain-like effect will wear off, too.”
“Where are we?” Charlotte wiggled to get a better view of her environs.
“My guess, it’s the Greens’ old root cellar."
“I thought its venting system would be better than this.”
“I don't think it ever had one or least one that worked well. Remember, it hasn’t been used as a root cellar in a long time.” She glanced at Charlotte. “Are you okay otherwise?”
She took in a deep breath, which was more a sigh of resignation. “I think so. You?”
“As best I can at this age. But I’m not so sure about them.” She nodded toward two bodies curled up on the floor opposite them, at the far end of the enclosure. “One of them is Jennifer Blackwell. I don’t know who the other one is.” She tilted her head in the direction of a large barrel beside the steps. “At least they were generous enough to leave us some light.”
“By the way it’s flickering, Janet, I think their generosity is about to run out.”
“That, Charlotte, is symbolism I can do without.”
“Have you been able to talk with Jennifer?”
“Not a word! She just mumbles like you did when they first dumped you in here.”
Charlotte replied, “You know, Janet, I’d bet that was the girl in the cabin.”
“What makes you think that?”
“A hunch.” Charlotte’s gaze travelled down the young girl’s body, settling at her feet. She shuffled closer to her. “Just what I thought. It is her."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course, I am. The gold ring on the second toe of each foot confirms it.”
“Is she all right?”
Charlotte screwed up her face slightly. “She appears to be in a bad way.” Shuffling back to Janet she snuggled against her. “I feel so helpless”
Janet twisted at the bindings around her wrists. “We’ve got to get them and us out of here. These bindings are cutting the circulation off to my hands.” Looking at the fading light source by the steps she said, “Don’t be offended but you generate too much heat.” She shifted slightly away.
“None taken.” Charlotte continued to stare at the two girls. “Whatever’s going on here, it’s centered in that egg factory. Don’t you think?” she asked, turning to Janet. “You don’t need guns to protect an egg factory. Unless it’s …”
“Unless it’s super illegal and highly profitable,” interjected Janet. “But, right now, my mind is elsewhere, like trying to get out of here.” Digging her heels into the dirt floor and pushing backward, Janet slowly eased up the stone wall until she stood upright on her own. “Phew! I’m sweating like a stuffed pig. Charlotte, can you see if they used zip ties on my wrists?”
Shaking off a drop of sweat that had settled just above her eyelid, she peered at Janet’s wrists. “Yes. So?”
Janet bent over and raised her arms as high as she could behind her. Spreading her arms apart with all her might, she came forcibly down on her tailbone. She repeated this action several times until the zip tie snapped.
“I'm impressed! Where the hell did you learn that?” Charlotte asked.
“YouTube,” she replied, untying the rope around her feet. “Now, let me see if I can find something to free you up.”
“I’m forced to admit, Janet, that you never cease to surprise me.”
“Good! It keeps things interesting that way.” Janet searched the shelves and paraphernalia scattered on the floor throughout the cellar.
“Out of all the choices on YouTube, why that?” Charlotte asked Janet.
“You know Liz Hartman?”
“Uh-huh.”
“It was her daughter, Mikayla. She loved escape tricks. Well, one time when I was babysitting her, she found a whack of them on YouTube and insisted we both try them out. That was one of them. Ah, this should do.” She held up a piece of broken glass she found by the steps and returned to Charlotte, cutting through the zip tie that bound her wrists. “I’ll leave you to untie your feet.” Returning to the stairs, she picked up the light and went over to attend to Jennifer.
After freeing herself, Charlotte joined Janet. “Do you think she’ll be okay?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” Janet nodded toward the other girl. “See how she’s doing.”
Charlotte turned the girl over. She was surprised to find that she was staring up at her. “I’m a friend,” she said. “Don’t be afraid.” Gently, she wiped away the girl’s hair from her face. When she touched her forearms, she felt her shiver. “You didn’t by any chance come across something I might use to clean up her face,” she said to Janet. “She’s been pretty badly beaten up.”
“Except for these empty potato sacks here, there’s not much.”
“Then they’ll have to do.”
After rolling up several of the sacks into a pillow and placing it under Jennifer’s head, Janet threw the extras over to Charlotte. “The girl appears terrified. What’s she staring at?” Casually, she glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the steps and froze. Two men stood staring down at them from the top of the stairs.