Sternilla

This story felt different than what I've written in the past. It could be that I haven't written anything in just about as long as my last post. Shoot. I hope you like it. 

“What are we going to do?”

I look at him, the moon making his dark skin pale. Tilting his head to see me, the light gleams in his eyes like the flashlights we lost two days ago. I know he expects me to reassure him. That’s what I’ve done every step of this horrific journey. From the weeks stowed away on the cargo ship, to the days in the detention center in Djert, across Pyom, through Traunto, and now in this godless jungle. I’ve run out of things to tell him, ways to comfort him. I don’t want to talk at all. I have nothing left to say. I lost that desire when we ate our last bit of food yesterday. So I rub his hair, so long it curls into his ears now.

It’s enough. He wraps his arms around my leg and is quiet. I hear voices in the distance. I haven’t decided if they’re actually hunting us or if we’re dumb enough to be going in the same direction. It was only because Paulo had to relieve himself two minutes before the guerillas came into our camp that we escaped. We heard the screaming first. The cries of fear, the pleas for mercy. If the other immigrants knew what waited for them, they would rather have died. I know I would. As Paulo and I hid in the brush, I heard what the guerillas said.

“Make sure you pay that coyote extra for his work. This is a larger group than usual.”

“I’m not paying him anything extra. This group was smart enough to stick together. That’s why more of them survived than the other groups.”

“The markets are going to like the Mirna women we netted this time.”

Kohsoom and her sister. My stomach sank to my knees. She spent two years learning Sterno so that when she got to Sternilla, she would be able to find work. It was her optimism that strengthened my legs when there wasn’t anything left for me to give. The dreams she had of her new life were so beautiful that I could close my eyes and see that world she wove and not the starving faces around me. Now those faces I’d struggled with, fought for survival with were filled with terror.

“And the kids. Five is more than we’ve had to sell for months.”

Paulo whimpered next to me in the brush. I don’t think he understood the old Boristo language they spoke, but the air changed then. It got darker somehow.

I calmly put my hand over his mouth and we waited. We waited for them to leave. We waited to make our escape.  But the guerillas weren’t in any hurry to go anywhere. They just lay down and posted watches over their new slaves. We waited until the fires went out and all we could see were shadows against the darkness. It wasn’t until the shadows stopped moving for thousands of breaths that I dared move. Slower than the sloths overhead, we moved away from the camp and into the dark of the jungle. Not too far though. The animals out here would kill us just as easily as those rifles would. We climbed a tree and tried to sleep.

That was a wasted effort. Neither one of us closed our eyes for a second. Abandoning that idea, we climbed back down and in the gray dawn, we moved north. That’s where our destination was. We had to get there. If only to defy this hell. There’s no way I was going to let all this sacrifice be for nothing, to just die here where no one will ever find me. My family gave me all the money they could to help me get this far. That won’t be wasted. I will survive this. And I will be successful. In Sternilla.

As I think of what to do, I hear them again. The voices of the guerillas are muffled in the undergrowth. It’s hard to tell how far behind us they are. I don’t think we can outrun them. Paulo’s shoes wore out a day after the “guide” abandoned us just inside the jungle. His legs, skinny before, are skeletal. We’ve got to find a place to hide.

I take us right, off the nearly invisible trail we’ve been following. Every step has to be intentional now. With roots, undergrowth, vegetation, snakes, and any number of animals that could be crawling on the ground, we move cautiously. I count every step, mark every tree on our detour. We have to be able to find our way back. Or we really will be lost here forever.

Having gone far enough, I pull Paulo behind a huge tree trunk and we wait. Again. The voices get closer, louder. Then we fall to the ground. The roar of an engine in front of the trail we left startles us. The ground rumbles under the heavy wheels. A truck.

Shouts and orders to climb in come from the guerillas. I’m tempted to run out and beg for a ride. To civilization, to anywhere but here. But I know where they’re going. Human markets would be one of the only places that could surpass this place in depravity. So I stay and listen to the cries. I wish I could help them. But I’m only one person. I have to protect Paulo. I’m not much, but I’m the only thing keeping him alive. I can’t leave him.

Leaves rustle as the truck grinds away. Still, we wait. Until the sounds of the jungle creatures come to life again. I count our steps back in the direction we fled. I find the path and we walk twenty more steps. And the jungle disappears behind us. No more trees. No more undergrowth. Just open fields and empty space. I stare at the sky above us. Blue, clear. I can see it. My breath catches in my chest. 

Paulo slumps to the ground beside me.

We’re alive. We made it. Not to Sternilla yet, but having left the jungle behind, I feel we can conquer anything.

A man speaks behind me.

“Leaves for shoes.” He’s looking at Paulo’s feet. We strapped the leaves to his feet to protect them the best we could.

“That’s why the tracks were so strange,” another man says, stepping from the jungle next to him.

“We’ve been tracking you two a while.” They both smile, teeth rotten and black.

I can’t move. My mouth won’t work. A ringing starts in my ears. I feel the ground shake beneath my feet again. The truck is coming back. They’ve known about us all along. No. This isn’t how this is supposed to end. I haven’t fought this hard this long just to end up in the sex slave market. This is why I left my home in the first place. It was either starve, work in the market, or leave. I did what I could. I’ve tried my hardest. This isn’t going to happen to me.

I look at Paulo. He and I had talked about this before. He has already been in the market. He risked everything to run when I told him I was leaving.

Standing slowly on his stick thin legs, he steps toward the men.

I follow him.

They raise their guns in warning.

It’s not a warning to us. It’s a welcoming embrace. This is our only option now.

We continue our advance. Paulo reaches out for the first man’s rifle. The man yanks it away while his companion swings his rifle away from me and fires at Paulo. I don’t know if it hit him or not. Paulo doesn’t stop wrestling for the rifle. The man stumbles.

I jump on the man in front of me. We’re either going to get their guns or we’re going to die. Either way, we’re not getting on that truck. The rifle muzzle is pointed up, away from me. I need to change that. I climb up the man’s arm, trying to bring the ball into my heart. He headbutts me and I slide to the ground. On top of Paulo. I don’t know if he’s hurt or dead. Shaking my head, I try again, try for that gun.

The man points it at me. “Another move and I’ll kill you.”

I lunge at him. The blast of the barrel is blinding and deafening. I don’t feel hurt. Did he miss? How could he miss? I was an inch in front of the barrel. My legs buckle underneath me. I don’t feel pain. I fall, my face in front of Paulo’s. His eyes stare blankly at me. He’s done it. He’s escaped to a place he’ll never suffer again. No one will control his body ever again. I raise my hand to my chest. It’s warm and wet, blood flowing with every slow pump of my heart.

I look at the blue sky. No one will ever own me either. I’m free. I’m free.