Page 9 of Savage Warrior

I’m bundled around to the doors at the tail. One of them stands open, and I’m hustled up the two steps and inside.

There are no seats. The interior is empty save for the half dozen women who sit on the floor, backs to the walls and knees hunched to their chests. They all regard me, their eyes dull with disinterest. A couple of them shuffle along to make room for me to settle at the end of the line.

I’ve barely lowered myself to the floor when I realise I left my bag in the dressing room.

“Wait. I need to—”

The door slams shut, and the engine roars. The van moves off.

I leap to my feet and stumble to the front, then hammer on the panel behind the driver’s seat. “My bag. I left it behind. Wait, can we just go back?”

The van stops with a jerk. I clamber back to the tail end, ready to hop down onto the ground as soon as the doors open. I can just retrieve my holdall, and—

The fist catches me right on the jaw. I never see it coming. The next thing I know, I’m waking up in a crumpled heap on the floor of the van. The vehicle in motion again, tossing me from side to side as it trundles along.

I struggle to keep my eyes open, to focus. My skull throbs, and the side of my face feels as though it might explode. I explore gingerly with my fingers, then wish I hadn’t when they come away bloodied.

What? Why?

I sit up and once again become aware of my companions who continue to regard me with sullen disinterest. No one offers sympathy or assistance. No one asks if I’m okay. Nor do they seem in the least bit surprised at what just happened.

“What…?” I croak. “Why…?”

“Sit here,” one of them replies, taking pity on me at last and shuffling along again. “Keep quiet and you’ll be all right.”

“Th-they hit me,” I stammer. This whole thing was already a nightmare, now it’s descended into some sort of surreal version of Hell. “Why would they…?”

“You need to keep quiet,” the woman next to me advises in a low, urgent tone. “It’s better that way. Keep out of trouble.”

“I need to get out of here,” I blunder on. “I can’t do this. There’s been a mistake.”

The woman shrugs and repeats her advice. “Better to keep quiet…”

Fuck that! I never signed up for this.

I crawl across the floor to the rear doors and try rattling the handle from inside. It’s locked, of course. I try screaming and kicking at the doors with both feet. Maybe someone outside will see or hear.

“Stop that.”

Two of the other women grab me and try to wrestle me away from the doors.

“They’ll hear you…”

“Good. I want them to. I’m getting out of here.”

“No one gets out,” one of them hisses. “You’ll cause bother and then—”

The van lurches to a sudden stop, and moments later, the doors fly open again. I take my chance and hurl myself towards the daylight, only to be seized and flung back into the vehicle.

The man from the bar follows me inside and grabs me by the hair. This time he lands a punch in my kidneys, then another in my stomach that winds me. I collapse, gasping for breath. He hauls me up again and growls into my face.

“Last warning, bitch. Another sound out of you, and you’re gone.” He slices his finger across his throat. “Dead in a ditch, no one will even know your name. Won’t care either. One less dirty little whore.”

His companion is at the door, leaning in, laughing. “Oh, I don’t know. Best not to mess her up too much. She’ll fetch a good price. It’d be a waste to just have to dump her in the river. At least we should fuck her first.”

“Get back up front and drive,” my assailant snarls. “I’ll deal with this.”

The other one coughs up phlegm and spits it on the ground. “Fair enough. Got to get on anyway else we’ll miss the tide.” The door slams, and the engine roars.

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