The doors creaked open, flooding the space with light. She squinted painfully against it and struggled to stay perfectly still when every instinct she had screamed that she should try to bolt for the opening. A shadow fell across her face, blocking the sun, as a man leaned over her to check first one tie, then another. A grunt of satisfaction followed. She resisted the urge to recoil away from the hand that brushed her foot, lingered, and then withdrew, filling her with an icky feeling and a craving to wash that piece of skin immediately.
“Todo bien,” he called.All okay.
The doors slammed shut again, the sound cracking through the trailer like a gunshot. Enya jerked at the noise, but the tension in her body eased when the engine fired to life again. Was it weird to find comfort in the rumbling, low, steady growl of the engine? Maybe so, but she figured it didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. If she wanted to escape this mess, then being calm was a priority. She flexed her fingers, testing the zip ties again, then shifted her weight and began to rock her body. She moved from her shoulder, then her hip. Then her shoulder, and then her hipagain, wriggling herself a few inches at a time toward where she thought the other girl lay.
“Maria,” she whispered, her voice as dry as gravel. “Can you move toward me? Maybe we can manage to open the ties. All the ones I’ve seen have a tab; if you can get a fingernail to it, you might be able to open it.”
The faint hitch of breath somewhere to her left was swiftly followed by, “I’ll try.”
Enya rolled over again, inching her spine against the floor, forcing her body through the slow grind of movement that sent fire through her shoulders and knees. Her limbs screamed, but she refused to let it stop her, and she kept going, even as sweat streaked her face. Her shoulder brushed something warm that swiftly flinched away from her with a quick, sharp intake of air. “It’s me.” Enya kept her voice as low as possible. “See if you can get your fingernail into the opening. If you can, we might be able to get me free, then I’ll do the same for yours.”
Maria’s hands brushed over hers, then she tugged and pulled at Enya’s wrists. “I can’t see it. I’m trying to do it by feel.”
Please let this work.
Please.
“I think I have it,” Maria whispered. “Try pulling your hands apart.”
Enya held her breath and winced as her skin chafed against the plastic. Disbelief made her breath catch as the zip-tie loosened and her hands came free. “You did it,” she softly cheered through the pain shooting around her shoulders and down her arms. Shebit back a cry of pain as she straightened her legs and fumbled with the ties around her ankles. “They even took my boots.”
“They tossed them in the corner near the door with my shoes,” Maria told her.
Thank God for that.She could run barefoot if she had to, but escape would be much easier if she had boots on her feet.
“Can you get me free?”
“I’ll try.” Her fingers were numb, the skin slick with blood, but they were hers again. She reached for Maria’s bindings, fumbled for the plastic ridge. “Got it.”
“Ouch, that hurts.” Maria winced, rubbing at her wrists as Enya went to work on her feet.
Relief slammed into her when she managed to open the bindings on Maria’s legs. But she didn’t take the time to celebrate. She scrambled across the trailer for their shoes. She got her boots on by feel, each movement slow and shaky because her fingers were clumsy and swollen from the way the zip-ties had cut into her wrists. But who cared if she fumbled a couple of times before she managed to wedge her feet into them?
Not me.
Thank fuck I was wearing my comfy Ariats and didn’t put on going-out shoes on my way to dinner.
Running in skinny heels would have sucked so much. At least she knew she could run in the boots she wore to ride.
I have boots, I’ll find a way out.
Her legs were stiff, her back ached, and there was no good way to bend without sending pain across her shoulders, but the bootswere on, and she was no longer hogtied; that was enough for now.
Maria sat against the side of the trailer beside her, bent over her sneakers with her hands shaking too hard to do more than loop the strings into a half-knot. Her breath came in short, dry bursts, telling Enya that the girl’s throat was probably as raw as hers.
“Leave them.” Enya caught Maria’s hands when she went to unloop the laces to try again. “If they stay on your feet, they’re good enough.”
“Okay.”
Her heart went out to Maria. No matter how scared she herself was, the younger woman was terrified. “Where are you from?”
“New Jersey.”
It’s a long drive from there to El Paso.
The trailer shifted under them as if it went over a cattle grid or train tracks. Enya pressed her palm against the wall to steady herself, listening past the vibration of the tires for anything that might tell her what came next. She readied herself for them to stop, and wasn’t entirely sure if she was relieved or not that the vehicle kept moving. The longer they drove, the more time they had to get their blood circulation working. But the longer they drove, the farther away they got from El Paso, her parents, and Rain. Time blurred as they rested their heads against the wall of the trailer. Enya’s jeans stuck to her thighs, her skin felt tacky, and her ribs were sore from being jolted against metal. She tried not to think about how much worse it would get if they didn’t manage to escape before they got to wherever these men were taking them.
Focus on getting out of here.
