Dakota's Pride

Chapter 1. Spirit

Running was the only thing she knew how to do. It was a natural instinct of survival. She was never much of a fighter unless she had too. She'd never killed another person, yet. She'd prefer to just escape her situation. To slip out quietly through that back door that had been carelessly left open and get the hell out. She felt like she'd been running her entire life to what she hoped was the freedom she never quite made it to.

Hannah-Leigh had been a slave for the past five years of her life. She'd watched her family die by the hands of the criminals who'd evaded the motel they were staying in during their vacation in Nevada, her mother, father, brother, all shot dead before her eyes. The Mexican criminals had taken one look at her with leering grins and decided to spare her life. She wished they hadn't. Death would have been easier. Lord knows she prayed for it more than once but was too much of a coward to off herself. Her mother was religious and believed people would go to hell by suicide so she took risks like this...over and over...hoping she'd either get her freedom one way or the other. She had nothing to loose... From her point of view, she'd die and hope the next life wouldn't be as miserable as this one or she'd actually escape and try to rebuild some type of life for herself...although she doubt it would be a normal one after what she'd been through.

Her looks was what had gotten her in trouble, was the reason why they didn't kill her. She'd come from a humble family and vanity was not a part of their lives. But Hannah had grown up into a very beautiful young woman. Her body was long and slender, her skin a flawless golden brown with long thick hair that hung to her waist. Born half African-American and Navajo, she'd turn the eyes of any man's path she crossed which had always been a problem for her father and brother. They'd both died trying to protect her and her mother. The criminals had heartlessly shot her mother after arguing that she was too old to take with them. She'd only been 45. Hannah had just turned 21 when they kidnapped her and sold her into slavery. She was at the prime of her life when they'd destroyed it. Now she was 26 and dead inside, a living shell of her former self...

Where the hell was she anyway? She looked around, there was nothing but woods. She'd heard one of her captives mumble about how much they hated Oregon. This was Oregon? Why the heck would they bring her back to the states unless...she was about to be sold again to some bastard drug dealer...

Something hard and heavy hit her in the back causing her to fall face down. Damn...she thought for sure she'd make it through the woods with the trees to aid her escape. Someone stepped on her back with hard boots nearly crushing her spine. "You little bitch, if you weren't making us so much money I'd break your damn spinal cord and leave you out here to die."

She could barely breathe with the heavy weight on her back. Flight had failed so there was only one thing for her to do if she really wanted to escape this life, fight him and make him kill her. She pulled out the small switch blade she'd hidden between her breast wondering why the thing didn't just opened up and impale her when she fell, oh to be so lucky. She twisted her arm around, thank goodness for being double jointed, and stabbed him in the leg. The knife went through, she thought she felt it hit bone. Her captor yelled in pain.

"You bitch, you stabbed me?! You fucking bitch, I'm going to kill you!" He grabbed her hair and lifted her up by it after pulling the knife out of his leg. She wanted to scream in pain, but refused to give him the satisfaction. She glared into his hideous hillbilly face. He was one of the men who guarded the camp she was being held along with a few other girls of all races to be bargained off to their new masters.

Her captors had many faces over the years white, Mexican, Asian. It didn't matter what race she was sold to and passed along when they got tired of her, she was a slave to be only used for their pleasure or as a servant, most of the time, both...