The Long Way Home

Chapter 1: Caroline

I took inventory of myself as I stepped out into the parking lot of a truck stop. My legs and thighs were bruised and I could feel the dull ache from the bruises that were developing on my sides and back from the abuse I had sustained from the men I was with. From the men who had taken me. The other bruises that were scattered on my arms came from the drugs they had forced on me.

It had to be after midnight. Not a soul was outside at the truck stop or the rigs that were parked in the lot in front of the van I had just climbed out of. "We'll take you one at a time, ladies." One of Daniel's men called back behind us as he followed me across the gravel lot.

From what I understood, this stop on our trip was a dual purpose stop. One, to give us all an opportunity to use the bathroom and the men to swap out drivers. And two, to hand off the duffel bags under the seats filled with cash and stolen items like electronics and guns. We had been on the road for hours.

Despite the fact that I was pretty sure I had a gun pointed at my back, I was happy to fill my lungs with the warm night time desert air. To my right was the truck stop with it's attached cafe and shower house. To my left were dozens of semis parked in neat rows, livestock trailers, and a few campers were closest to the entrance, off the freeway. The grey work van I had climbed out of sat parked at the end of the lot behind me now, the four other men from Daniel's group doing various things around the van and under the hood to look less suspicious.

"Don't you even thing about trying anything funny." The man behind me said in a threatening tone. "You won't make it very far." He stopped just outside of the women's entrance to the bath house. "You have 10 minutes. Any longer and I'm coming in after you."

I only nodded and made my way into the bathroom. I hadn't been to church in the better part of two years, but I silently prayed that God could get me out of this predicament. Or at least give me a clue of how to get out.

As I was splashing cold water on my face, I heard shouts outside. "Get her, Miguel!" Someone yelled from the van.

I stuck my head outside, just in time to see the man, Miguel, who had accompanied me to the bathroom take off in a sprint after the small framed blonde who had been in the van with us. She was making a run for the desert behind the van.

This was it. No more well thought out plans. This would be the last time they would be distracted like this. This would be my last chance. This was my break. I pulled in a deep breath. "Just walk. Don't make any sudden movements and don't look over there." I told myself as I set my eyes on the livestock trailers. They would be my safest place.

I was over three quarters of the way across the lot when I heard the shouts that were directed at me. My heart pounded in my ears. This was not the time for me to panic. This was not the time for me to shut down like I had so many times when they were assaulting me. The anxiety swirling in my chest and in my stomach settled somewhat once I ducked into the protection and cover of the trailers. Some carried cattle who shifted and snorted uncomfortably as I weaved in and out of the rows, trying to avoid the men looking for me.

I stopped long enough to catch my breath against the side of a horse trailer with attached living quarters. Daniel's men were only a couple of rows over. I could see their flashlights and hear their hushed conversations in Spanish only a few yards away. To my left stood a door on the outside of the trailer. I said a silent prayer for it to be unlocked before pulling on the handle.

The door swung open silently and I could have almost cried. I pulled myself up and inside before closing the door with a soft click. A dim night light was plugged into the wall by the door and with it I could make out what looked lie a tack room/mud room setup. Halters for horses and lengths of rope were hung on the walls. Boots were lined up against the wall by the door.

I nearly crawled out of my skin at the sound of pounding on the side of the trailer. I needed to hide, fast. I pushed the coats hanging on the rack opposite of the door to the side and climbed to the back of the closet area, squatting and pulling my knees up to my chest. The banging sounded again, followed by someone cursing and grumbling and stomping inside the camper.

"You better have a good damn reason for waking me up at 2 in the morning." Someone all but yelled.

"I'm looking for a woman who stole my computer case from the cab of my truck." It sounded like the one they called Nicolas outside the trailer. "I'm so very sorry to have dragged you from your sleep."

"If you think she stole your computer, what makes you think I would have anything to do with it?" The man's voice from the trailer asked with a grunt. He sounded more than annoyed. Maybe I had chosen the wrong trailer to climb into...

"She-she disappeared into this group of trailers, sir. Your's is the only one we couldn't see into with just our flashlights..." He paused. "She was small, thin, red-colored hair... Looked pretty dirty and strung out. Most likely a prostit-"

The man in the camper cut him short. "You're telling me that it takes 4 of you to come after a lot lizard with sticky fingers?"

"Listen," Nicolas began. "Just let us take a look around in here and we'll get out of your hair.

My heart rate picked back up again. I was a goner.

"You can lose the attitude of yours and take a step back. The only place she could have hidden in this trailer is in the tack closet. The lock only works half the time anyway." He shifted around. "You're not setting foot in this trailer, but I'll open the door to the tack closet and let you see that there's not another soul in this camper with me. Let me get some shoes on."

I reached out and snagged a saddle blanket from off the short shelf to my right and threw it over my feet and legs before they came to look in the closet.