Kyla’s Secret

The shouts and screams growing closer pulled Kyla out of her stunned trance. She had no idea what was going on, but she knew she had to seize the opportunity to try to escape. She just wasn’t sure if she should untie the girl first or get out and bring back help. Since the girl was tied with simple Velcro straps like she had been—not handcuffs or anything more complicated—she quickly yanked off the one on the wrist closest to her. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on,” she told the girl, “but we’ve got to hurry before they find us.” The girl nodded and helped free her remaining restraints. “I’m Kyla, by the way.” “I’m Chloe.” “Are there any exits nearby or windows we could get through, Chloe?” “I d-don’t know,” the girl stammered nervously. “I’ve never been here before. They’ve had me held up in the other place for what seems like months. But then I tried to run and they brought me here and began doing terrible things to me. I’m so scared!” “I know, I know. Me too. But we can’t let that stop us. We must remain focused. Do you remember seeing anything of importance when you were brought in? Doors, windows, anything that could be a possible way out.” The girl shook her head. “I wasn’t with it. They drugged me up. The nurse—Maddy, I think her name is—the fuckers ran and got her. She gave me a shot of something that knocked me out. All I remember is waking up in here. This Black guy raped me and then he and Maddy put me on this board with sides and kept dipping my head under water. I really thought I was going to die. If they catch us, they’ll kill us for sure.” “We can’t let that happen. We won’t. There’s got to be a way out. Get up and grab anything you can use as a weapon.” The girl got up as quickly as her stiff joints and sore body would allow and slid off the metal gurney. They quickly gathered some tools. “How many people are running this sick joint?” Kyla asked. “Too many. I have no idea, to be exact. Besides Maddy and the Black guy, there are at least three or four others.” “How many hostages?” “I don’t know. We live in these sheds inside this giant building. I’m guessing there may be twelve to fifteen of us.” “God,” Kyla breathed, “and people believe God loves everybody?” “I prayed to God—” Chloe began. Kyla cut her off. “God doesn’t give a shit about you, my friend. You wouldn’t be in this mess if He did. The only one who can help you right now is yourself. Now get down and get behind the door!” They remained crouched behind the door for minutes that seemed like hours, listening to the shouts somewhere within the building. “Can you make out what they’re saying?” Chloe asked. Kyla shook her head. “It almost sounds like the police could be raiding the place, but I’m afraid to get my hopes up.” “Yeah, like maybe they’re not real cops or something. Maybe they’re just as crazy and want to steal us from the first bunch of whack jobs so they can be the ones to rake in the profits.” “Shhh,” Kyla commanded as footsteps raced down the hallway. “Clear,” they heard someone shout. Then, “Clear in here, too.” “I don’t think these are fakes. I really think they’re real cops!” Kyla said excitedly, beginning to pull herself up. “No!” Chloe shouted in a loud whisper. “They may be imposters.” “We’re going to find out either way,” Kyla said. “We can’t stay in here forever.” “I’d rather be alone in here forever than go through the hell I’ve gone through.” “Me too, but wouldn’t you rather escape most of all?” The door burst open before Chloe could respond, and the girls suddenly stared into the barrels of firearms aimed at them by what appeared to be a handful of FBI agents. They lowered their weapons and one shouted out into the hallway: “Got a couple hostages in here!” Chloe slid back down the wall in relief and began crying hysterically. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” Kyla was speechless for a moment, then giddy with relief. She remembered murmuring something like, “Omigod, Omigod,” as she was taken to the hospital, given an outfit to wear, and then taken to the police station to swear out a statement. At the station, she spoke to a couple of detectives. “I’m Detective Mason,” said the male detective, “and this is Detective Hamlick.” “How did you find us?” Kyla asked. “Oh, just a tip from an informant.” “Well, hug them dearly for me.” The detective lost his serious, businesslike expression long enough to crack a smile. “You’ve been through quite an ordeal, Miss Rembler.” Kyla nodded. “It was definitely the most terrifying experience of my life, and I hope to hell I never again go through anything half as bad.” She was asked by the detectives to recount everything she could remember, but first Kyla wanted to know if her family and the university had been contacted. They assured her they had, and that was one less thing for her to worry about. Kyla breathed a sigh of relief. “Your mom’s looking forward to hearing from you, and the university has agreed to keep your whereabouts secret until the rest of them are captured. Meanwhile, the magazine company you work for will be sending a sizable award and contribution of sorts and will go ahead and work with what you’ve got. I guess your assignment on the university was to end soon.” Kyla blinked with confusion. “Yes, it was. But what do you mean keep my whereabouts secret? And until whom is captured? Didn’t you get them all when you raided the warehouse?” “I’m afraid not.” The detective slid some mug shots across the table. “Do you recognize either of the men in these pictures who kidnapped you from the store?” Kyla studied the dozen or so hardened faces. “This one might have been one of them.” “So you got a good look at both of them?” Kyla nodded. “Good enough. How are they connected to the prostitution ring and all that?” “Well, we believe they help kidnap victims who are then turned over to traffickers. We also suspect they might have taken Meagan Malone, the student who’s been missing since last month.” Oh, yes, Kyla thought sadly. She hated knowing that Meagan’s family might believe the girl went through hell she hadn’t actually endured, but felt it best to let their beliefs be whatever they were so she could go on living. She was still sad about what happened with Meagan, but Meagan’s life was over. Hers wasn’t. “I remember hearing about her. I guess she disappeared right before I arrived in California.” “About that time, yes,” said the detective. “Do you think you could provide a description of the abductors to a police artist?” “Sure.” Kyla then went through her story for the detectives and was saddened to learn that those shot in the store hadn’t survived, and that a few girls were suspected to have been killed by the traffickers as well. “We’re going to need your testimony not just to recount what you went through at the warehouse, but at the convenience store as well. It’s very important. Others will testify too, but your testimony is especially important because of the hold-up and shootings in the store.” Kyla nodded. “All I remember is Dan and Rick.” “Dan and Rick?” Kyla nodded again. “That’s what they called themselves.” “Do you remember anything that could personally identify them or at least their possible whereabouts?” “No, I’m sorry.” “They never mentioned where they lived?” “No, nothing like that. All they kept saying was that I was a good candidate for The Hill.” The detective nodded dubiously. “Yeah, that’s what they referred to the place as. The warehouse was on a hill outside of town.” After a few more minutes of conversation, the detective said, “Look, we know you’re tired and probably hungry. It’s getting pretty late, so we thought we’d let you get some sleep in one of the offices here that has a couch.” “It’s a very comfortable one, too,” said the lady detective. Kyla managed a smile. “Then in the morning, we can get you settled at the university and get you a new ID since we haven’t been able to recover your purse.” “So I’m to return to my room there and wait till the rest of the guys are rounded up for court?” “Not quite,” the detective said, smiling at her naivety. “It will all be explained clearly in the morning.” “But what about the rest of my stuff? My laptop, clothes… things I left in my room?” “They’re fine, Miss Rembler.” “Can I call my parents tomorrow?” “You sure can. You’re in protective custody, not under arrest.” “What about the other girls? Where are they?” “Some are under protection, some aren’t. Unfortunately, some are too afraid to testify, and we can’t force them to. That’s why your role is very important. Your voice helps speak for those who are too scared to speak for themselves.” They rose from the table in the small interview room. “When do you think those still out there will be caught?” The detective gave a tired sigh as they stepped out into the corridor. “That I’m afraid I can’t say. Sure wish I could, though.” “I’m just glad the FBI agents got there when they did.” The detective nodded in agreement. “My partner here will get you a sandwich or something, and then you can hopefully get your first real sleep in days. In the morning, we’ll formally brief you in on life in the Witness Protection Program.”