Page 3 of Grayson

So, she did what she was taught. She lay still, staring at them, waiting for any glimmer of light to help her. Memorizing every line on their face, every tattoo, every sound of their voice. Anything that would allow her to find them again.

When she urinated on herself and them, they jumped back, slapping her hard, kicking her in the side.

Then, they left. Leaving her in the alley to bleed to death and die.

When she woke, she was staring up at a plain ceiling. She was in a small bed with rough sheets and one tiny dresser. There was a silver crucifix hanging from the wall. A convent.

She lay in that bed for weeks, waiting, formulating.

When she was healed, she returned to the club one night. It was winter and the doors were closed, music blasting inside the club. She grabbed the crowbar and slid it between the handles of the door. At the rear door, she did the same.

Then, without remorse, without fear, she lit the place on fire. Standing across the street she watched as the flames kissed the sky, voices screaming inside, begging for help. No help came. She’d made sure of that. No one came until it was too late.

She’d learned through local law enforcement that it was a small gang of men who’d been suspected of kidnapping and selling young women. Suspected, but never taken into custody.

It changed her life forever. She would never again take her freedom so lightly, her privilege so carelessly. She finished college and vowed to return to the Sisters that helped her.

Now, she was running for her life once again. This time, if she were caught, it would be ten times worse than the two drunks from the club. They would torture the Sisters, kill the priest and sell the children.

“Move,” she whispered to herself, her thighs aching from carrying the bundle. Behind her she heard the sounds of the villagers. Screams could be heard as homes were set on fire.

“Run!” she called out in a quiet yell.

The priest took off, not even bothering to pick up the nearest child, just running for his own life. The Sisters all grabbed children’s hands, running as fast as they could.

When they reached the river, they stepped into the cold water and braced for the iciness biting at their flesh. The children were already shivering from the mountain’s cool breezes but the water would make them hypothermic.

Behind them they could hear the thundering footsteps of the soldiers and panic rose in them all.

“Here!” yelled Father Tyler. “There’s a large boulder. We can hide behind this.”

“Father, no,” she said shaking her head. “We must keep running. We cannot hide here.”

“We must! The children are weak.”

She didn’t dare argue with him. She’d seen him become furious with the other sisters, berating them as if he were their father. She didn’t argue but she also didn’t agree.

The children were seated behind the massive boulder, the sounds of the soldiers getting closer and closer. Suddenly, Father Tyler stood and stepped out into the path.

“Here! They’re here,” he said. The grin on his face told her everything she needed to know. He was the traitor. He was the man selling children. The other Sisters gasped, staring at him. She glared, knifelike glares piercing his body.

Stepping closer to her, he gripped her wrist, bringing it to his groin.

“You couldn’t see me that night,” he sneered. “You couldn’t see my face but I could see yours. I watched as you killed my friends in that club.”

Her eyes went wide staring up at the face she hadn’t recognized before. It was him. It was the second man who’d raped her. He’d always felt familiar to her but she couldn’t place it. Now she knew.

“Don’t worry, Sister. I’m going to have some fun with you before we sell you.”

“You bastard!” she said spitting in his face. He slammed a fist against the side of her head. She’d been able to take one step back before it landed fully but it still hurt like hell.

The soldiers began tossing the children into the back of the truck, touching the Sisters, feeling their bodies and making vulgar noises. That’s when they found her gun, tossing it into the grass.

“That one there has a mouth on her,” he said taking the money from the soldier. “Watch her. I’ll wait a few days and go back and report that I escaped. By that time, you should have been able to sell all of them.”

“Even her?” asked the soldier.

“No. Hold onto her. I want to have some fun with her.”