Chapter Six

He woke in a dark, close space, too small for his height. It forced him to bend his knees at an uncomfortable angle. Metal handcuffs bit into his wrists, sending fierce pain up his arm. Movement and the faint smell of exhaust fumes told him that he was in the trunk of a car. The road rumbled past inches below his head, blocking out all other sounds.

How long was I out? he thought foggily and tried to lift his arms towards his face so he could see his watch. A sharp wash of pain stopped him. It drew beads of sweat onto his brow and the back of his neck. He licked his lips, tasting salt and stale copper.

Carefully, he laid his arm back down, trying to cushion it on his stomach as best he could. Bright, multi-coloured stars danced in front of his eyes. A headache exploded to life at the base of his skull. It made his stomach roll uneasily. He swallowed dryly, tasting blood at the back of his throat.

The car took a bend a little too fast, the motion sliding him across the small space. He grunted with surprise when his hand touched another warm body.

"Hello?" he whispered thickly, glad beyond reason that they hadn't gagged him. The sound of the road under the car's wheels swallowed the words. He tried again, raising his voice. "Hello? Can you hear me?"

"Hello." A scared female voice whispered back. "You're the man from the road, aren't you?"

"I am. My name is Raylan Givens. I'm a deputy US marshal. You're the girl from the woods? What's your name?"

She shifted, bumping her knee against his thigh. There wasn't much space in the trunk. "I told you that you couldn't help me."

"Why were you running?" He rolled his head to the side, trying to ease the pain in his neck. His cheek scraped against the rough carpet.

"I escaped. They were cleaning house... loading us all into a horse trailer. One of the other girls got sick and distracted the guards. I waited until they weren't looking and just ran."

The car bumped onto a rougher road. Small stones bounced up, pinging from the underside of the car. Each impact made the girl jump. She reached for him, wrapping her hands around his. He stifled a gasp when she pressed a little too hard on his injured wrist.

"Why wouldn't you come with me?"

She drew back a fraction. "I didn't know if I could trust you. I saw the chief shoot that patrolman... and then you turned up. I thought you were working with him."

He tilted his head. "I never saw the chief. Where'd he go?"

"He sent his men into the woods to look for me. Someone called him, and he took off in his car." She laughed bitterly. "He was in that much of a hurry, he left his damn dog behind."

Something about her story didn't sit right with him. He forced it to the back of his mind, focusing on more important details. "How many girls are there?"

The air tasted warm and stale as he sucked in another breath. Sweat made his shirt cling to his back. The constant road noise grated on his nerves. Something squeaked by his head, adding another layer to the sounds.

She shrugged. He felt the movement though their joined hands. "I don't know. They don't keep us all in one place. I was at a hunting lodge with five others. They bring the men to us, then take them away when they're done."

The words send a bolt of ice through Raylan's gut. "He's running a human trafficking ring?"

"He brings girls in and forces them into prostitution," she murmured. "I'm one of the oldest. That's why they were getting rid of me. Some of the girls are barely teens."

Blind, helpless rage exploded through his mind. He sucked in a harsh breath and forced it back. "I'll put an end to this, I promise."

"How are you going to do that, lawman?" she asked "You're in worse shape than I am."

"I'll think of something." He braced himself and worked his thumbnail under the scab on his knuckle. It burned, but he kept at it until fresh blood ran down his finger.

She must have felt the movements. "What are you doing?"

"Leaving a sign we were here. Blood doesn't wash out easy. Someone might spot it."

He wiped his fingers on as many places as he could reach. The sound of tearing fabric made him jump.

"They'll kill you for this," she said, fumbling a bit of cloth around his hand and holding it there.

"Hell, they're gonna kill me anyway. Might as well give them a reason."

The car made another sharp turn, tires rumbling over a plank bridge. He held his breath as his stomach rolled again, rebelling against the motion.

"We're almost there. That bridge means we're going to the house I told you about," she whispered. "I'm scared."

He tightened his grip on her hand. "My boss will be looking for me. We just need to stay alive long enough so he can find us, okay?"

"They want to kill me." She sniffed hard, gulping back a sob. "I know they do."

"Then you have to give them a reason not to kill you."

"Like what?" she asked softly. "I have nothing to offer them that they haven't already taken."

He opened his mouth to reply, closing it when he couldn't think of anything helpful to say. "Let's just see what happens when we get there."

Distant voices broke through the constant hiss of tires on dry dirt. They didn't sound happy. He strained to make out the words, catching a few phrases here and there that just frustrated him more.

He braced himself as best he could as the car jerked to a halt. Sudden, bright light flooded the trunk as someone opened it. It made him close his eyes, turning his face away until his eyes adjusted.

"Well, hello again, Raylan," a familiar voice said. "Did you and your little friend have a good trip?"