Kyla’s Secret

Maddy was an older, plump woman with graying hair pulled back into a stubby ponytail. She wore a cotton print dress, a pair of worn moccasins, and bifocals. What was scary about Maddy was that she could have passed for anyone’s grandmother. Anyone’s. But Maddy was no kind, loving grandmother, home cooking sweet goodies for her grandkids. Maddy was a cold, heartless, self-serving criminal who allowed other women to be tortured for profit. Kyla was appalled that a woman could allow another woman to suffer so much. And just what was the sick bitch doing with her share of the money? She certainly wasn’t spending it on decent clothes. Still, it was more than obvious to Kyla that Maddy was there by choice and that no one was forcing her to do the job of “maintenance” on the girls who’d been tricked, manipulated, kidnapped, and forced into sexual slavery. One of the guys crudely shoved her forward and out of the “cell” she had woken in to find herself imprisoned. She stepped out into what appeared to be a large warehouse. The cement-gray floor was cold and harsh under her bare feet. The bastards had taken her shoes, probably to make running more difficult. As they wove between other makeshift buildings inside the warehouse, Kyla tried to take note of everything she saw, all the while wondering if others were imprisoned in the sheds set up throughout the place. If they were, they were being very quiet. The guy pushed her again. “Get a move on it, will ya? I haven’t got all fucking night.” A small section of the exterior building branched off to the side, and in that area was a heavy door. The guy opened it, and there stood Maddy by an examination table. If it wasn’t for the hideous surroundings and the lack of medical charts and illustrations on the walls, it might have passed for authentic. “I’ll let you two get acquainted and will be right outside if you need help with anything, Maddy.” “Thanks, hun,” said Maddy, as if he’d done something as kind and innocent as bringing her lunch. Kyla stared at her in shock, mind racing, unsure of what to say. “Be good,” the guy warned. “Maddy was a registered nurse for many years for a hotshot doc.” The door closed behind her and she finally found her voice. “If that’s true, why would you give up a career like that to do this?” The woman stopped and gave her a don’t-give-me-any-shit look but said nothing. “You’re a woman. Shouldn’t you be the most compassionate? Imagine if it was you or your daughter—” “Look. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Which is it going to be?” “Just what is it we’re supposed to do here?” “You’re supposed to shut up and take off your clothes.” “And if I don’t?” “Mmm… Rick?” The door quickly swung open. “Yeah?” “This girl needs a lesson on obeying orders.” Kyla froze, terrified, realizing she’d gone too far—and that just because the woman looked grandmotherly didn’t mean she had any empathy for her, or for what she might go through if she didn’t figure out a way out of this hellhole. “Oh yeah?” said Rick as he punched her in the face. Kyla screamed in pain. “Not that kind of lesson,” Maddy shouted. “We can’t get her working with cuts and bruises on her face. Just put her on ice for a while or something. I went through her purse thoroughly and checked her out online. She’s no runaway or down-on-her-luck misery case. You stupid fools picked up a reporter of all people this time. We need to get what we can from her quickly, then get rid of her.” Get rid of her? “Aw, shit, a fucking reporter?” “’Fraid so. People are going to be looking for this one.” Kyla thought quickly. “It’s a good thing you missed the GPS tracker I always carry with me—just in case, since some people aren’t fans of reporters, like you’re not.” “That’s a lie!” Maddy spat, as if she’d taken it personally, the way someone would if a lie had been told about a loved one. Rick looked at Maddy and said, “Claims she’s got AIDS, too.” “Yeah, right. We’ll see about that.” “It’s true,” Kyla lied. “Only no one knows about it yet but you. I don’t want to break the news and have everybody freaking out. Besides, you don’t have the equipment here to test me, so you’ll just have to take my word for it. Be careful what you do with me if you don’t want to risk infecting yourselves.” Maddy and Rick exchanged glances, and Kyla saw the confidence waver in Maddy’s eyes. “Look, you said it yourself. I’m no down-on-her-luck kind of girl. I also don’t give a shit what you do here. Sell girls, rape girls, drug girls, kill girls—do what you want. Just let me go and I’ll gladly look the other way and—” “Oh, no,” said Maddy. “Don’t even think of it.” “You’re in too deep now,” said Rick. “Once you’re in, you don’t get out—unless you’re one of the players.” “So then make me one of the players.” “In your dreams, Miss Hotshot Reporter,” said Maddy. “You work for a while, and then you’re gone.” “Gone where?” Kyla asked, though she already knew the answer. “Look, we don’t have all fucking night,” Rick said angrily. “Strip now or pay the consequences.” Kyla didn’t budge. If she was going to die anyway, why make things easier for them and give them what they wanted first? Why not make them kill her now? But Kyla wasn’t ready to die. Not for these sick twists. She desperately needed to think of something. “Look, we all like money. What if I pay you to let me go and keep quiet? What if I actually pay you?” “Do you think we’re stupid?” Maddy asked incredulously. “What do you want to do?” Rick asked. “Ice her, or let her go for a swim?” The “nurse” pulled something out of her pocket. “How about we send her to Trance Land instead, where she can still feel and know what’s going on, but can’t put up a fight like she’d just love to do?” In a heartbeat, Kyla turned and ran as fast as she could out the door. She had no idea where she was going, but she didn’t care—just so long as it was away from these crazy people. Kyla ran through a maze of objects—tin sheds, buckets, shovels, chains, hooks, boxes, and more. Because the sheds were taller than she was, she couldn’t see very far, but she got the impression the warehouse was a few hundred feet long. Her eyes scanned the exterior walls in hopes of spotting a door that might lead outside. She thought she saw something way in the back and pushed herself to run faster. Although she was slim, she wasn’t in good shape, and she found herself wishing she’d taken up running so she wouldn’t tire so quickly. A sudden sharp, searing pain nearly threw her off her feet. She’d stepped on something sharp. As much as it hurt, she forced herself to keep running. She could hear Rick and Maddy running and shouting not far behind. She hoped they would think she was hiding behind something and not know her exact location. A sticky wetness beneath her foot caused her to slip and lose her balance. With despair, she realized her foot was bleeding. She sat for a moment, trying to gauge how close her captors were. It was eerily silent, save for her ragged breathing and the thunder of her heartbeat. Was there another exit they thought she might have escaped through? Despite the burning and stinging in her foot, Kyla rose and steadied herself. On shaky legs, she continued toward what she hoped was a door. She braced herself, wincing, as she leaned against a huge cardboard box. Looking inside, she saw women’s clothing, shoes, jewelry—even IDs. She was horrified to think they might belong to other kidnapped girls trafficked by a sex-slave ring God only knew how big. The thought chilled her, but it also strengthened her determination to escape and bring these sickos to justice. If she didn’t, she and untold numbers of women would die once they became too old to satisfy the twisted needs of the buyers. Gingerly, she took another step forward, trying hard to ignore the pain. Then she dropped to all fours and crawled as fast as she could toward the back wall. This way she was off her foot, and perhaps harder to spot. No sooner had she begun crawling when a burst of movement erupted behind her. Kyla screamed as it descended upon her like a giant bird and swooped her off the ground.