Thumper by Marie James

Chapter 3

Cara

I know I can’t stop the tears running down my face, but that doesn’t keep me from swiping at them repeatedly. I’m cold and terrified, knowing that what happened to the brunette woman will happen to each and every one of us. I knew it the second I was plucked from the street, as if my life and goals didn’t matter. I want to be grateful that it hasn’t happened yet, but then I remember the sound of the woman crying outside, and I feel like a monster for being grateful it wasn’t me.

How awful is that?

I spend my days helping others have a better quality of life in their old age, and yet I did nothing to stop what happened. I didn’t even open my mouth to beg for her as she pleaded not to be hurt. I doubt it would’ve worked. I doubt that monster that raped her in front of several men and five other women would’ve paused for a second to reconsider his choices. Men like that don’t have a conscience. They do what they want when they want and don’t have to worry about the repercussions.

“There,” the guy leading us down here snaps, pointing at one of the blonde women and then a cage that looks like nothing more than a dog kennel.

Her eyes dart around as if looking for an escape. I don’t know if running is the smartest thing or the dumbest choice she can make.

She must decide it’s a bad decision because her shoulders tremble as she climbs inside the cage. Angel—that’s what the guy outside called him—ushers us each into one of the crates before closing the doors.

Once inside, I realize just how isolated we are. I can hear the women on either side of me, but I can’t see them. Other than a small grate on the front, the things are completely enclosed. The blankets inside offer no comfort. I know thin layers of fabric won’t protect me from whatever their plans are for us.

I count the closing of five cages, including mine, and chance looking out through the small opening, wondering why I didn’t hear the sixth one.

Angel walks past the cages with a tight grip on the brunette’s arm. The woman has been through more than any of us, and it seems like her trauma isn’t stopping anytime soon.

I can’t see the door with the way things are situated, but the atmosphere in the room changes the second a door is closed and the sound of a thick lock slamming into place echoes around the room. Whimpers and cries fill the room, and the woman to the right of me rattles her cage like doing so will release the padlock Angel put in place. She yells in frustration when it doesn’t budge.

I want to tell her to calm down and think rationally, to save her energy, but it’s not my place. I don’t have any right to dictate how she responds to what’s going on.

I press my face to the grate of my cage and look around. There’s a table across from us, and the only thing on it is a television. Just the sight of it makes my skin crawl. I don’t imagine we’re going to be watching romantic comedies while eating popcorn.

The room is cold and dark, a classic scene from a horror movie, and it leaves me thinking back to my life choices. I left Knight Salvation to save myself from a life that was sure to be filled with things I couldn’t wrap my head around, only to end up locked in a cage with an even deadlier future. I can’t say that I’ll ever think leaving was wrong. It wasn’t, but ending up here is definitely going to be worse.

A hissing sound filters through the air, and the room grows deathly quiet, each one of us trying to figure out what’s happening. Then the warmth hits me, hot air swirling around us and heating my skin. The heat rushes over my skin, allowing the goosebumps to begin to fade, and I can admit the comfort is much more than what was afforded us the last couple of days in the back of that moving truck.

I shake my head at the comparison. I have to be losing my damn mind if I’m comparing the accommodations like one is the Motor Inn off the highway and the other is the Hilton. The warmth of this room doesn’t offer us safety from what’s to come. If anything, our comfort is much farther down the list. The guy in charge, Javier, just doesn’t want his possessions to catch pneumonia or get sick. Dead girls aren’t worth any money to him. The heat is merely protecting his investment.

“Oh God. What are they doing?” one of the other girls cries.

“What’s going on?” another girl asks. “I can’t see anything.”

I have no idea what their viewpoints are, but I know exactly what the girl beside me is referencing. The television has flickered to life, and the scene on it is much worse than any horror movie I’ve seen.

The brunette is shoved into view of the camera. The room she is in has a huge bed, one that would look almost inviting if her face wasn’t screwed up in terror as Javier approaches her. His fingers tangle in her hair, and my stomach turns sour at the sight of his naked body as he tugs her head back violently. This action forces her face away from the camera, and despite the television not having any sound, it’s clear what he’s planning to do when he uses his other hand to rip her clothes away.

“I’m going to be sick,” the girl who first noticed the television coming on mutters, and then the sound of her retching fills the room.

“Don’t watch,” I tell her as I curl into a ball and squeeze my eyes closed.

“What’s happening?”

“H-He’s raping her again. We’re all going to die.”

I shake my head, trying to erase her words. This can’t be my life. How do I escape one hellhole only to end up in another? How did I fight for months on the streets when I was still a teen, only to be abducted at twenty-four? How is this fair?

I know life isn’t fair. I’ve been dealt too many crappy hands over the years to even question it, but I never expected something like this would happen. No matter how many times we were warned against the dangers of being alone, no matter how many times I took precautions to be safe, I never imagined something like this would happen to me.

And I haven’t even faced the worst of it. That brunette woman is the one getting hurt.

I don’t know how long it lasts. The woman beside me never says another word, and the whimpers and cries eventually fade into soft sniffles.

I don’t realize I’ve drifted to sleep, exhaustion taking over despite my desperate need to stay awake, until the door to the room swings open and bangs against the wall.

I press my face to the grate in my cage once again, even though I want to cower away in fear that Angel is returning to grab someone else.

The brunette’s eyes are void of any emotion as I watch her being escorted across the room. Angel’s eyes are dead, empty pools of darkness, and I shouldn’t be surprised that he has no concern for what just happened to that woman. For all I know, he eventually joined in and hurt her as well.

We all stay quiet as her cage door is snapped closed, and I hold my breath as Angel walks back out of the room, not releasing it until the lock on the door slides back into place.

The sniffling is renewed, but no one speaks for the longest time.

“A-Are you okay?” the woman to my left asks the brunette.

She doesn’t answer.