Anchored, page 10
“Where are my friends? Are they okay?” I asked the men who had entered.
“I said quiet. You’re upsetting the animals. One more word and I’ll, I’ll...”
“Leave her alone, Steve. Major Conrad will deal with her soon enough. Come on. Let’s go,” a kinder male voice said.
“Why’d they dump her in the animal hospital?”
“The brig was full. They arrested a lot of people during the riot.”
I tried to sound strong. “No! Please! Don’t go. What am I accused of doing? I want a lawyer.”
“Lawyer? The best you can hope for is a veterinarian.” The men laughed. The heavy door closed and I was again thrown into darkness.
I sat back down in the dirt. My animal neighbors finally quieted down. I felt around for the largest rock I could find and threw it. It bounced off the mesh cage and hit me in the shoulder. I rubbed my shoulder and shook my head. I would not cry.
After a few long minutes, I stood and felt the cage door. I followed the mesh with my hands. I was in a rectangular cell. I put one foot in front of the other and paced it off. It was ten steps long and six paces wide. There was a bucket in the far corner, but nothing was in it. I supposed it was my toilet. There was no bed, chair, or light of any kind. There were no windows in the building. At least I was protected from the weather. A small comfort.
I couldn’t stop worrying about Takumi and Nick. Where were they? How hurt were they?
We hadn’t planned a riot. But what if that didn’t matter? What if this ‘major’ they’d mentioned decided we were terrorists, or riot instigators? Was a riot instigator a criminal? Would we be charged with murder if one of the sailors died?
Panic set in. I had to get away. My fingers felt around the bottom of the cage. In some spots, I could almost get my hand under the frame of the cage. Since I was sitting on dirt, it meant the cage was on the ground too. But pushing on the cage didn’t move it, and I couldn’t lift it. The cage was firmly secured somehow.
The only tools I had were the rock and the bucket. I had no idea how much time I had before the someone came for me.
Using the rock to scoop with, I began to dig. I counted as I scraped away the dirt. One Mississippi, two Mississippi. I’d loosen the dirt and scoop it into the bucket. When the bucket was full, I’d dump it in a pile. This took about six minutes. I counted the bucket-sized piles until I had ten, then started over again, pouring the dirt on top of the existing piles. Ten piles made an hour. Minute by minute, my dirt piles grew and the space under the wire door became deeper.
I could feel the eyes of the animals on me. Occasionally they’d moo or baa their
encouragement.
Time passed. I was moving too slowly. If they came for me, they’d see the dirt. I stomped the piles down and went back to digging.
When my arm finally poked through, I squealed with joy. I worked on one side of the opening, then the other. It was getting wider and deeper. Nowhere near big enough for me to climb through, but a hope and a reason to continue.
I laid on my stomach, filled the bucket, sat up, and poured. I ran into a large rock, dug it out, and my escape route grew.
The goats began bleating again. The cow lowed. Human voices passed by. I held my breath. They couldn’t discover me now. Not when I was so close to getting free.
I dumped the bucket and examined the hollow I’d created. It was beginning to look like I could make it under the wire.
While face down on the dirt floor, I stretched my arms through the opening. Turning to the side, I pushed my head in. The bottom of the wire scraped my cheek and ear, but my head was through. I lifted my face forward. One shoulder at a time I managed to squeeze through.
And then I heard male voices. They sounded right outside the building door.
“Have the guards come for the girl yet?” a man asked.
“Don’t think so,” another answered.
I froze.
“She asked for water. I’m going to get her some.”
“You’re such a sucker for a pretty girl.”
“I’m a gentleman. Something you should try.”
I took a deep breath. He had to go someplace to get water. If I worked fast, I might make it.
I rolled over and pushed my hips down into the hole I’d dug. I scooted back, but my hips were too big. I frantically dug with my fingers to make the opening wider. I pushed with my feet and pulled with my arms. The wire cut into my stomach and the tops of my thighs. When my hips were free, I scooted away from the cage until my feet were clear.
I was through.
My legs shook as I stood. I searched for a place to hide. The room was full of see-through wire cages. The cow and goats called to me. “Shush!” I whispered to them.
A man spoke from near the door. “You waited?”
“Didn’t want to have her see me first and hurt your chances, bro.”
I flattened myself to the wall near the door. If they kept their flashlights aimed forward, they might not see me.
The door slid open. The goats butted their cage. The cow struggled to its feet.
I made myself as small as I could.
“Hey, pretty lady.” One of the sailors shined his light at my cage.
Behind them, I side-stepped to the opening, my back pinned to the wall.
“Looks like the guards did came for her after all,” the other sailor said.
The animals went wild bashing their cages.
I made a dash for the opening. The daylight almost blinded me. I shielded my eyes and searched for a place to hide.
About five hundred feet away sat stacks of large boxes. I made a break for the pile and crouched behind them. My breath was coming so fast, I worried I’d faint. Keep moving, I told myself. Blend with the people.
All the people I saw were wearing uniforms. Then I noticed a civilian man headed straight for my hiding place. I dropped to the ground as he took a box off the top of the pile. Soon, another man came. Then two women. Each grasped a box and formed a line a short distance away.
I quickly wiped my face on my sleeve. At least there was no blood. I re-banded my ponytail, picked up a box, and took off toward the line of civilians.
From inside the metal building, a sailor yelled, “She’s escaped!” Moments later, sailors scurried around near the metal building I’d been caged in.
“Escaped prisoner!” they roared.
I used the box to cover my face, and followed the long legs in front of me.
Chapter Seventeen
It wasn’t warm outside, but sweat dripped down my forehead and into my eyes. I had no idea where the line I’d joined was headed, but at least it was going away from the dark cage in the barn building the sailors had put me in.
The sailors would broaden their search for me, and eventually find me if I didn’t form a plan. A line of box carrying civilians would be a likely place for them to check. But until I had a better idea, hiding in plain sight seemed like a good idea.
After a few moments, however, waves of panic washed over me. The line moved at a snail’s pace. We’d take five steps, stop for a moment, then move five more. It was all I could do not to push everyone out of my way.
And then the legs I’d been following, disappeared. A uniformed person blocked my way.
“Where’s your travel patch, Miss?” a man asked.
I lowered my box. A young sailor stared at me. Off to my left, the civilians I’d been following were stacking the boxes they’d carried, then lining up to go back to where they’d come from. I quickly scanned their clothing. A young woman strolled past me with her load. On her left shoulder was a large blue patch that had the letters, USA, written in red across the middle.
I patted my shoulder. “Umm. Forgot to put it on. It must be back at my tent.”
“You’re not allowed on the base without a badge. You should know that.” He picked up a clipboard. “Get your patch and be back in five minutes, or you’ll lose your job.”
“Yes, Sir.” I tossed my box on top of the nearest pile and searched for a place to run to. Rows of house sized white tents were off to the right. Large metal buildings like the one I’d been trapped in were on my left.
I made a break for the tents.
“Miss. What’s your name?” The sailor studied his clipboard.
I took off running.
“Miss! I need your name,” he shouted.
I sprinted down a row of the white tents and prayed he’d quit yelling. He was going to alert the sailors who were searching for me. I turned right and then left. All around me, babies cried and people moaned. Filthy children of all ages played in the dirt. Clean clothes hung inches above the dust on ropes tied between tents.
A ball rolled out of an opening. A toddler with a very dirty diaper chased after it. She fell and wailed. I watched, but no one came for her. Finally, I handed her the ball. She quieted and I continued on.
The camp was crowded and noisy, but the smell was what bothered me most. The constant scent of urine, unwashed bodies, and sickness was overwhelming.
An older man stepped out of a tent as I ran past. I stopped to ask him where the hospital was. Before I opened my mouth, he stepped aside, and vomited.
Covering my face with a dirty hand, I ran on. After a while, the rows of white tents came to an end and a different looking camp emerged.
This camp was made of canvas too, but these were small, private, camping tents of all sizes Most were dome shaped and only big enough for a small family or a couple. This camp was less organized but somehow that made it nicer. Homier. Camping stools, children’s toys, a fire pit and colorful lines of laundry hung over the people and children that scurried about. I wondered if these people had just arrived at the refugee camp. They seemed healthier.
I took a moment to glance back and listen. There was no sign of the sailors. Up ahead, a girl around twelve years old was adding twigs to a fire. I approached her slowly.
She held a small stick in her hand and shook it at me. “We don’t have any food.”
“I just wondered if I could warm up by your fire.” I showed her my empty hands.
“Mom told me to stay away from strangers.”
I glanced around. “Can I talk to your mom?”
The girl fidgeted and tossed the stick into the fire. “She’s busy. You need to go away.”
I took a step back. “Okay. But can you at least tell me where the camp hospital is?”
The girl stared at the fire and said softly, “You don’t want to go to the camp hospital.”
“Why not?” I asked.
Before the girl could answer, a weak female voice whispered, “Jill, who are you talking to?”
The girl looked over at what must have been her tent. “No one.” She stood and gestured at the metal shelters a short way away. “The last three buildings are what the military call a hospital. But…”
“Jill!” The woman in the tent moaned.
“Coming.” The girl stared at me. She was waiting for me to leave.
“Thanks.” I headed for the metal shelters, but stayed one row of tents away. I hid behind a clothesline of sheets and watched a sailor search the road. He looked behind dumpsters and under jeeps and trucks.
They were still looking for me.
Above a double door on the side of one of the buildings, I noticed a handwritten sign. It read, “Medical Clinic.” This building was metal and similar to the one that I’d been in, but much larger. And the door was a short way up from the ground. It had some kind of flooring. A line of people waited in front. Most of them were in pairs. A stronger person held or supported a weaker person or child. Everyone seemed to be coughing.
I kept going.
Near the second to the last building, I found the truck the sailors had been attacked in. The windows of the vehicle were destroyed and dents on the hood and sides were evidence of the revolt. Inside were splatters of blood.
Glancing up, I saw smoke billowing out of a flimsy chimney that rose from the back of the corrugated metal building. This must be where they cremated bodies.
I shuddered and moved to the last building.
The shelter was closed up tight and smaller. Like the one I’d been held in, there were no windows. Sailors were posted at both sliding door entrances.
I spun around and wove back through the large white tents to the building with the “Medical” sign. I waited until the coast was clear, and casually strolled to the rear. Just as I touched the door handle, the knob turned. I leapt away and ducked behind a dumpster as a young woman, a man, and an older woman all dressed as medical personnel exited the building.
They were talking quietly. I scooted behind a water barrel where I could stay hidden and listened.
The young woman was speaking. “This is too much. I don’t know what they expect us to do. I’ve been out of anti-diarrhea meds and antibiotics for days.”
The older woman agreed. “Me too. I’m operating in the Dark Ages.”
“How’s your gunshot victim?” the man asked.
“The bullet grazed his ribs. With antibiotics, he’d be fine, but…” the older woman said. “We need to get to Santa Barbara. They still have resources. We can actually do some good there.”
“They took his friend with the head injury to the brig,” the younger woman said. “What were those people thinking? We’ve tried to help them. Why’d they start a riot?”
“Someone told them that we are pulling out.” The man coughed.
The older woman said, “Well, we are. How can the military arrest them for that?”
The man coughed again. “Sailors were hurt and it’s not a truth the U.S. Military wanted advertised.”
“It’s all sad. We want to help, but we don’t have the tools we need and…”
The young woman’s voice grew faint.
A metal door banged shut and they were gone.
I sat in the dirt with my head in my hands. I was so close. I could sneak in and find Takumi. But I couldn’t carry him. And there was no way I would leave Nick behind.
A sailor nearby yelled, “All clear in the mess hall!”
Adrenaline raced through my body. Warning the people about the military leaving had been my idea. I’d gotten the guys into this mess. It was up to me to get them out.
Another sailor cried, “Unit two, check the armory.”
I didn’t know where the armory was, but the sailors were close.
I flattened myself against the hospital building and listened. With a burst of speed, I shot back to the tents.
Someone in the camp had to know where the brig was.
Chapter Eighteen
I raced across the path between the metal buildings and the large white tents. Footsteps crunched on the gravel behind me. I ducked into the first tent I came to and waited for them to pass by. I exhaled the breath I’d been holding. My eyes adjusted to the dim light inside the tent.
“Who are you?” a gravelly voice asked from somewhere in the dark.
I squinted and stumbled backward.
At the back of the room, a gray-haired man stared at me. He stood erect and clutched a butcher knife. Two women and three men quickly joined the man. They each held a homemade weapon. There were baseball bats, crow bars, hammers, and they were all raised to hit me.
I put my hands in the air. “I’m, I’m just looking for a friend. Have you seen a young man with a long dark ponytail? His name is Nick.”
“Everyone in here has been here for almost a month. There’s no guy with a ponytail.” The man lowered his knife.
I heard a moan and someone coughing. I quickly scanned the room. Army cots lined the walls. Most of the beds were occupied. Some people were asleep, but many looked sweaty and tossed and turned with pain.
“Nick and I just arrived,” I said, and faced the knife man.
“Check the camping area, then.” The man covered his face with his arm and coughed. I saw a USA badge on his shoulder.
A badge! That’s what I needed. The brig would certainly be on the military base. To get in, I needed a badge.
“What are you waiting for?” The knife man pointed to the door.
“Nothing. Sorry. I’ll head to the camping area.” I made a move to leave.
A loud voice outside the tent shouted, “How are we supposed to check the tents? We don’t even know what she looks like.”
“We just ask if anyone has seen a stranger. A girl with light-colored hair,” someone answered.
The first voice huffed, “Fine. Put your mask on first.”
Sailors! Sailors were right outside. My heart thumped in my chest. I searched for a place to hide.
The man with a knife and his companions stepped closer. “You have ten seconds to tell us who you are, and why the sailors want you.”
I backed against the wall. “The military is pulling out and leaving the refugees at the gate behind. I told the refugees. They rioted. Sailors were hurt. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
The tent flap moved.
The man with a knife lifted a blanket off an empty bed and motioned for me to get in. I sprinted to the cot. The two men who had been standing beside the butcher-knife man blocked the entrance.
I pulled the blanket up over my face.
“Excuse us,” a muffled voice said. “We’re looking for a young woman with light hair. Have you seen a girl who matches that description? Someone you haven’t seen before.”
“Haven’t seen anyone. What did she do?” the knife man asked.
“She caused a riot. Two sailors were almost killed,” the muffled voice answered.
“A riot?”
“Yeah. If you see this girl, let one of us know, okay?”
“Will do.”
A child nearby whimpered. Another coughed. People around me moaned. Someone threw up. Germs surrounded me, but for the moment, I felt safe.
“They’re gone,” the man with a knife said. “We just saved you. Now tell us what you did. From the beginning, or we’ll call the sailors back.” Butcher Knife Man pointed his knife at my neck.
More than anything, I wanted to stay where I was––but I sat up and swung my legs off the cot. I wasn’t far from the door. If I made a dash, I’d probably make it. While I was trying to decide what to do, a number of people climbed out of their beds and moved to where they could see and hear me better. Those who were too weak to get up, but not completely out of it, turned their heads toward me.
