Page 47 of Morally Gray Daddies

Finders Keepers

By Alta Hensley

Chapter One

It was the crack of gunshots from the distance announcing someone was attacking.

The boat we were on raced to an impossible speed, bouncing us around like rag dolls inside the hull.

The two other women I traveled with stared at me with terrified eyes, screaming in panic.

All of this told me one thing…

Today I was going to die.

“Oh my god, what’s happening?” cried the woman whose name I thought was Rue.

Her name very well could have been Ruth or Ray, for I hadn’t been paying that close attention to my travel mates. None of us had really spoken much. We had all voyaged together for the same purpose—we’d been sold to some rich asshole or promised for an arranged marriage—but none of us connected over that fact. There were no long, bonding talks about what it would mean for us once we reached our destination. Nor were there confessions of fear or nervousness about meeting the men who would soon own us.

We all were tired and battered from the long journey when the three of us connected in our final boat to travel the rest of the way as companions. Most of the time, we slept or stared out the windows at the vast, open ocean with stars shimmering against the blackness in the far distance. Until now, it was a near solitary and silent trip.

The other woman in our group, Dabney, held a golden cross around her neck between her fingers and sobbed uncontrollably. Maybe she was silently praying through all those tears, or maybe she was mourning the life she once had.

I pulled back the ship’s dirty curtain to see if I could figure out where the gunfire was coming from. Maybe I should have been crouching on the ground like the other two, but I wanted to stare death straight in the eye.

“Close that!” Rue shouted. “Don’t let them see us! Don’t let them know that we’re on this boat!”

I glanced at her, not knowing how to tell her that there was nothing we could do. We were most likely going to die, no matter what we did. There was nowhere to hide in our small boat. We were at the mercy of the approaching men with guns, and I wasn’t going to delude myself into believing this would end well.

I did as she requested, however, since I couldn’t see anything but the ocean’s tumultuous waves.

Dabney’s sobs grew louder and more ragged, blending with the howls of the wind outside. Feeling sorry for her, I reached for her hand, maybe offering a little solace to her in her time of death. I wasn’t one to give comfort, affection, or any act of love often.

Growing up in Moscow, as well as being raised by a strict, pious priest had taught me to be cold and distant. It was the way of my family in our neighborhood. My father made choices for his family. He made choices for me. My hate for my father and his choices had all led me here.

“I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die,” Rue chanted in a tiny breath as if that would help the situation.

Screams from all of us ricocheted off the vessel’s walls as a bullet shattered the glass and whizzed by our heads. Gunfire intensified, and then eventually the boat slowed until it reached a complete stop.

The shooting had ended, and all we could do was wait.

Dabney clenched my hand, but silenced her sobs. We waited. We waited…

I could hear movement above, the crunch of boots against glass, and it was merely a matter of time until I would be staring directly in the eyes of my would-be murderer or if I was super lucky, possibly my kidnapper. I put my finger to my lips, signaling for the other women to be quiet, although I had no idea why I did so. The men above had to know we were inside. They knew.

The door opened, causing all of us to jump and cower as far away as we could.

“Well, ladies, it looks like today is your lucky day,” the man announced, as if we shouldn’t be afraid of him, even though he was holding a gun. “We just saved you from your sex traffickers.” He took a few steps back, opening the clearing of the doorway. “Come on out and meet everyone. Don’t be shy.”

Both Dabney and Rue looked at me for guidance, as if I had somehow become the leader of the ‘damsels in distress’ gang. Not having any other options, I nodded and led the way to what I could only hope would be safety. I didn’t know what to expect, but we wouldn’t be killed instantly, at least. I couldn’t rule out eventual death yet. Though the man who’d greeted us looked dangerous and rough, wearing all black and almost military in style, he had been civil. He’d even extended his hand as I exited what I once believed would become our coffin.

When I reached the deck and steadied my legs, I saw two other men of similar appearance raiding the bloody, dead traffickers’ pockets. I hadn’t spoken but a few words to our escorts, but I still felt awful for their demise. They had bullet holes all over their bodies, and a final look of terror frozen on their faces. Both Rue and Dabney gasped when they, too, saw our guides’ fate.

The two men stopped their scavenging and came to where we all stood. One of them looked directly into my eyes with his dark brown ones. His black hair peeked out from under the black wool of his winter hat. He didn’t look like what I imagined a ruthless criminal would look like, but he was stealing from the dead, so he clearly was one. He was tall and broad, and as he drew closer, both Rue and Dabney took steps nearer to me, as if I could somehow protect them.

“Were you on your way to Seattle?” he asked, almost seeming angry at us for doing so.

“I think so,” I said, not breaking eye contact. I didn’t want to cower to his intimidating presence, but I was smart enough not to provoke the man by acting defiant. “They weren’t exactly free with the information, but I did overhear them talking about Seattle.”

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