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He falls to the floor, blood trickling out of his skull. I kick his ribs in for good measure, then grab his gun. "Let's go."
We race toward the door. I fling it open, ready to fire at the first person I see.
That's when a figure emerges from the darkness. "Gentlemen."
I grip my gun. "Stand the fuck back. We have weapons."
A smirk tugs at his lips. "That won't be necessary. I've been expecting you."
31
UNNAMED BOY
I shakein my cage as I wrap my arms around Arlo and Rusty. My eyes flit around the warehouse basement and I tremble as I take in the rows of cages. It's so scary. It's exactly like it was when I lived here.
Memories flood through my mind. Not good memories about my family or previous life. But of my time in this warehouse, fighting for survival, fending off the guards who wanted to hurt me.
Some things are fuzzy, but they still ripple across my brain. I remember I had three best friends here who supported me no matter what. Ollie was one of them. The other was Sparrow. I strain my head to remember the other, but it's like trying to peer through a veil. No matter how hard I try, I can't penetrate the blackness of my mind.
Arlo reaches out and touches my hand. "Will we be okay?"
I place my hand on his. "Yes. Our Daddies will save us."
Rusty trembles. "I didn't even know the warehouse had this place."
I forgot Rusty only worked here as a garbage boy. It's crazy to think he didn't know this underbelly of his workplace existed.
I gesture to the surrounding space. "This is Room B."
"Are there more rooms?"
“There are Rooms A and C."
"What are those for?"
"Other victims." I stare at my feet. "Room A is where they keep the minors above thirteen. Room C is for the children they force into the black market adoption trade."
Rusty and Arlo share a look and then hug each other even tighter. "I can't believe they traffic minors here. It's disgusting."
"They’re human traffickers the government hasn't caught. None of us figured out how long they've operated. But some boys have been here for over a decade. My friend Ollie was almost here a decade and so was my other friend, as well. But I can't remember his name."
Arlo peers around the room. He sees the boys in cages scattered throughout the space, cowering behind their bars. They don't look at us and they don't even drag their eyes up from the concrete floor.
A wave of musk enters my nose and I make a face. It always smelled like shit down here, like black mold and God knows what else. But I don't remember the scent being this bad. It's like there's a water leak behind one of these walls and that any second, the entire pipe system might burst.
Arlo turns back to me. "How long did they make you live here?"
"I don't remember."
"Try." Rusty takes my other hand in his. "Maybe it'll get us out of here."
I scrunch my eyes tight and try to remember as hard as I can. I wrack my brains, forcing myself to come up with something. I can't let my friends down. Hell, I can't let myself down.
But no matter how hard I push myself, I can't recall a damn thing. My memories are off-limits to me, as if some fucking chemical is blocking my thinking ability.
I try not to show my distress. "Everything is coming through a haze. It’s useless."
Arlo furrows his brow. "Is your head still dizzy?"
