The Trafficked

47

‘Enough! It’s time. Go and fetch her…’

Brandon left.

‘No one ever escapes me, Wednesday, you should know that.’

The Colonel lifted Wednesday’s head so she could look at him. Her face was puffed up like a football. One eye was completely closed, burnt by a cigarette in the eyeball. The hair had been torn from her head and left her scalp bleeding and raw. The door opened and Brandon walked in, pulling Maya by the arm.

The little girl stood for a moment, startled by the terrible thing she saw before her-unable to recognise her mother. The Colonel lifted Wednesday’s chin and it took Maya a few seconds to realise it was her mother. Then she cried out and desperately tried to reach for her.

Wednesday looked at Maya and tried to speak but she could not; her mouth was swollen, her teeth broken from the electric shock torture. Brandon hadn’t put the piece of plastic in her mouth to stop that happening. But then, he didn’t have any reason to worry if her teeth were broken and he ruined her looks. She was never going to be for sale again.

She tried to smile at the child. Poor Maya, to see her mother like this. Poor Maya, she thought. She could see that the child’s eyes were full of fear as she whimpered. Mama, Mama.

The Colonel picked Maya up by one arm and held her aloft like a rag doll, then he pretended to drop her before catching her around the waist and holding her tightly to him. She screamed and cried out for Wednesday.

‘You want your daughter back? Here she is.’

‘Mama. Mama.’

The Colonel laughed and nodded in the direction of Brandon, who went to stand behind Wednesday’s chair. Wednesday looked at her daughter and tried to speak, but no words came-blood spluttered from her mouth and ran in a trickle. But she had the strength of the dying and the determination and focus of a mother knowing that she is the only chance to save her child. She thrashed and bellowed-hoarse and strange her voice came out, distorted in her anguish and desperation. She shook violently.

The Colonel tutted.

‘What can you offer me, Wednesday? You had your day. I took your cherry and I took your daughter’s-one whore begets another.’ He licked Maya’s face and laughed as the child sobbed in small breaths.

‘Mama…Mama.’

The Colonel walked to the far wall.

‘But, you came alone, as I demanded, so I will give you one last chance to win your daughter back…it’s only fair…If you can get here and kiss my feet, you can have her. If you don’t make it-then she’s mine.’ He ordered Brandon to cut Wednesday’s bonds and free her from the chair. ‘Come and get her, Wednesday.’

Wednesday lunged forwards. Brandon stuck his foot out and tripped her and she hit the floor. He placed a foot on her back. He took his knife and sliced the long blade through the back of her right thigh, just above the knee. The hamstring snapped and curled. Maya screamed and turned away as Wednesday let out a muffled scream and clutched the injured leg as she dragged herself onwards towards Maya. She tried to stand on her left leg but Brandon kicked it from beneath her and she crashed to the floor again. He stepped forward and sliced through the other hamstring. She let out a tormented cry of anguish but still she pulled herself along with her hands like some freakish animal, bald, bloodied and crippled, she pulled her weight on her hands and elbows. She stopped within reach of the Colonel’s feet and looked up at him. Maya held out her hands to her mother. ‘Mama, Mama’

Wednesday extended a hand to touch his feet. Brandon dragged her head backwards.

The Colonel stared down at her. ‘Look at me, Wednesday. Look into the eyes of your God.’ He kissed Maya on the mouth. ‘And take a last look at your daughter and know that I will have her, body and soul, until she is no more use to me, then I will kill her.’

Wednesday let out a cry of anguish but no sound came out; her vocal cords were cut as Brandon slit her throat.