“Maybe we could find a spot that’s kind out of the way and park? I’m starting to drag. It’s been a hell of a day.”
His eyes scan me. “I wish we had cash of some kind. I’d get us a motel room so we could catch some real sleep.”
I drive slowly, heading for the northern outskirts of the city. “Me too. But if wishes were fishes…”
A short trip on a highway, where at least the rush of air past the open windows provides some respite from the endless heat, exiting again into residential suburbs. We wind and meander, ending up on the far outskirts, where buildings are boarded up and the streets largely deserted. Maybe it’s not the same here, but in my admittedly limited experience with cities Stateside, I would not feel safe in an area like this.
Apollo seems to agree, since he hauls the M-16 forward and tucks it between his thigh and the door. I’ve had the pistol tucked under my thigh since I got in after the phone call.
We pass a short, narrow alley between two sets of buildings.
“There,” Apollo says. “Back in.”
I brake, check our surroundings—we’re alone for the moment—and then reverse into the alley. I pull all the way back to the very end, where a wall about my height blocks us from whatever is on the other side. The buildings to our right and left are both two-story, festooned with power and phone and cable lines; there are no windows facing the alley, and little enough in the alley besides trash, a couple of broken wooden crates, a deflated soccer ball, and a stack of old pallets.
I shut off the motor and kill the lights. With the windows open, I can hear the engine popping and ticking as it cools; honks, traffic noise, shouts, and sirens are all in the distance.
It’s disorienting, all of a sudden, to be motionless. There hasn’t been a single second since I got into that car with Ahmed that I haven’t been doing, going, watching, moving, assessing, or actively waiting.
“Why don’t you switch with me,” Apollo says. “Put the seat back and rest. I’ll stay up and keep watch.”
There’s not enough room on either side of the Toyota to even open the doors, so I climb awkwardly into the back to allow Apollo into the driver’s seat, and then I take his place in the passenger side.
Lever the seat all the way back. The M-16 is to my right, barrel facing the floorboards, butt beside my shoulder. There’s only a handful of rounds left in it, I think, but it’s better than nothing. I clutch the pistol in my hands, on my stomach.
“Why don’t you let me hold that for now?” Apollo says, his voice gentle, taking the gun from me. “We’re as safe as we can get, for now. I’m here, Rin. I’ll keep watch.”
I surrender it to him, and try to close my eyes.
I see myself, though. See my hand flashing out. See a throat opening up, blood sluicing down.
I open my eyes with a gasp, shaking, horror rising in me like acidic bile. “I…I can’t. I can’t.”
He rests the gun on the dashboard, near the windshield, and takes my hand, his thumb rubbing my knuckles. “Focus on me, Rin.”
I swivel my head to the side, look at him. Really, truly look at him. “I…killed them,” I whisper. “With my knife. That little card-knife. I cut their fucking throats. Three of them.” A tear rolls down my cheek, and a choked sob escapes my clenched teeth.
He squeezes. “They weren’t good or innocent people, Corinna. They were evil. They were involved in human slavery.”
“Worse than that.” I shake my head, close my eyes. Swallow hard. “While I was looking for you, I came across this room. All the doors in the area were open, except one. I heard…sounds. Coming from…from the other side. When I opened it, a guard was raping a girl. She was chained up.”
“Fuck.”
“It’s so much worse than you’re even thinking, Apollo.” I open my eyes, wipe at my face, at the tears flowing freely now. “Spaulding doesn’t let them mess with the girls, because that would undercut his bottom line. If the girls are all beaten and raped and bruised by the time he’s ready to sell them, he’ll get less. So they’re not allowed to touch…them.” I almost saidus—unlike the other girls, I went in willingly, but I still felt like one of them. “To keep the men satisfied, he let them have one girl, which they could do whatever they wanted to. But they had to pay for her. They had to pay for each…use…of her. There was a bucket of cash by the door.”
“Fuck. Holy fuck.” He sounds sick to his stomach.
“It was clear she’d been…that she’d been there awhile. She was barely alive. Beaten almost unrecognizable. Just fucking…beyond brutalized. I don’t have the words for it. For what they’d done to her.” I sobbed, gasping, hyperventilating. Shaking my head, eyes shut, speaking through clenched molars. “I shot him. Painted the fucking wall with the contents of his skull, all over the girl. She…she was begging me to kill her. I don’t speak German, but it was…I could tell what she was saying. And I couldn’t—I couldn’t do it.”
“I saw the room,” he says. “I guessed at what had happened, but…”
I shake my head again. “I unlocked her wrists. She grabbed the gun and just shot herself. Not a single second of hesitation.” I sob again. “I don’t feel guilty, Apollo. Each and every one of those men deserved what they fucking got—they knew what was going on. They fucking deserved it. But I…I can’t stop seeing what I did to them. Shooting people was…it waseasy, after the…after doing it with a knife, from six inches away. Getting their blood on me. Watching them…bleed out, gasping, gurgling…fuck.”
“You did what you had to do.”
“I know. But that…” I close my eyes tightly, until lights flash behind my eyelids. His hand on mine is all that anchors me to reality.
I let go of his hand, open my eyes, look at my hands. My hands just look…dirty. The blood has dried, flaked away. My shirt is crusty and stiff with it.
