Page 9 of Deuce

I nodded frantically.

“What’s your name?”

“S- Salima. Salima Navarro.”

More gunshots rang out and I bite back the screams in my throat. When they stopped, he grabbed my arm.

“Alright, Salima. Let’s go.”

He yanked me further down the hall, where he pushed open a door. My eyes widened when I saw the frantic, scared faces of several children all huddled up together. There were at least thirty of them, ranging from no more than ten to sixteen years old. The room held a few bunk beds, and dirty mattresses were spread across the floor.

“What… what is this.”

“This is what your boss does in his spare time. I’m sure you don’t need more of an explanation than that.”

He pushed me into the middle of the floor.

“Wait here. The cops will be here shortly.”

“What am I supposed to do! They’re gonna arrest me too!”

“If your story checks out, you’ll be free to go.”

Without another word, he closed the door.

“Wait!”

I tried to open the door, but it was locked. Defeated, I turned to the scared faces of the children behind me. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what do to. They all looked so terrified.

“Are… are any of you hurt?” I asked.

They shook their heads no.

“How long have you been down here?”

They were all quiet and looking at me like I was the enemy. Only one spoke up, a teenaged girl who looked to be one of the oldest.

“It’s been a long time,” she whispered. “Those men… they pay a lot of money to be with us. That man, the one that brought you in here. He said we were going home after tonight. He promised nobody would hurt us again.”

I opened my mouth to speak, and another round of gunshots went off. The kids began to scream. I went to them, trying to comfort them where I could, but I was just as terrified.

Would the masked man come back? Would he kill me, too? Would the police show up and if did they did, would I be implicated?

This couldn’t be the end. I was only twenty-five. I had so much life ahead of me, so much to live for. This couldn’t be how it ended.

What seemed like hours have passed and I was still stuck in this room with these kids. I couldn’t call anybody because I’d dropped my phone trying to get away from this mysterious vigilante. The shooting had long since stopped. Now there was silence.

“Is help coming?” one of the smaller boys asked me.

“I don’t know, baby. I hope so.”

Seemingly another eternity passed before we heard what sounded like saws against the large metal door. The kids ran back into the corner, and I ran with them, standing in front to shield their bodies.

“There are children in here!” I screamed. “Please don’t hurt them!”

The door opened, and in rushed several officers with guns raised.

“Don’t shoot!” I yelled, raising my hands.