Dark End of the Street

Abby wished Ellie would just shoot her and be done with it. She’d never tell them about the little safe in her father’s office, the files she’d found there, or even utter a damned word. This is what happened to her father and she’d let the damned thing rot in that nasty truck stop before she’d say a word to these freaks. She closed her eyes and concentrated away from the pain. They could poke at her some more, rape her, or dump her body into the Mississippi. She didn’t care.

“You are filthy,” Ellie said. Then she matched her screams with Abby. “Come on!”

She slammed the pistol against Abby’s ear, carefully placed it back with the towels, and pulled some makeup from her purse. Abby flexed her body, tied at both ends, and turned her head to the door as it flew open.

The girl was tied to some type of elevated bench. A tall blond woman, who looked like she should be showing cars on The Price Is Right, stood over her with a makeup brush in her hand. She seemed frozen, caught in mid-act.

I walked to the table, the metal door slamming shut behind me. The woman didn’t move. The girl’s eyes stayed trained on me while I circled the bench and saw a gun lying across a pile of towels.

The girl was in her early twenties, blond and petite, and wearing nothing but white panties and a bra. I had the sudden thought that maybe I’d walked in on someone’s private game. That maybe among all the piles of blackjack tables and roulette tables, that people came back here to get off.

But then I noticed the tears and the reddened skin. Piles of cotton strips with human hair sat on a pile between the girl’s legs. I thought I could smell urine.

I lunged for the gun and the woman reached as well. But I had the jump and pushed her to the ground as she rammed into my chest with her head. She grabbed my leg, but I kicked her away and pointed the gun, a.38 revolver, at her chest.

“Get up,” I said, walking slowly back to the girl, keeping the gun trained on the woman. “Where’s the key to these cuffs?”

She didn’t say anything but then brightened with a smile. “You want to join us?”

I pulled the cloth from the girl’s mouth and between sobs and gasps, she said the woman was trying to kill her. I tugged at the cuffs and found an instant release. No key necessary.

The girl pulled her wrists to her body and alternated rubbing them for a second before pulling herself forward and ripping the straps from her legs. She bolted for the door but I stayed in place, the gun still trained on the woman.

“Come on,” I said.

“There’s more,” the girl yelled from the door. “He’s coming back.”

I reached for a pile of jeans and a T-shirt and tossed them to her. While she slid eagerly into her clothes, I stuck the gun into my belt and used the cloth to bind the woman like you would a hog. I shoved a pile of the hairy strips into her mouth, and opened the door wide for the girl.

All the doors were locked. Every hallway led to a dead end. I heard the squawk of a security radio down the hall and turned back the other way, grabbing the girl’s hand. I was sweating now and every step seemed awkward and loud.

An exit sign beamed about fifty feet away down the narrow corridor and we started into a slow jog. Just as we reached the turn, the young kid I’d met in the security room turned the corner.

“Thought I told you to wait,” he said as he coolly pointed a rifle at my face. But just as he did, my jog turned into a run and I gave a forearm shot to the kid’s nose. The kid fell back and his head cracked against the concrete floor. I scrambled for the rifle, picked it up without stopping, and motioned for the girl to follow.

I kept the rifle in my sweating hands running toward a fire exit.

The hallways soon turned into a humid Mississippi night. A ramp led to a walkway circling the building, and beyond that, off the concrete landing, lay a narrow channel stretching south through cotton fields. We jumped, our feet hitting the murky bottom, knees deep in water that shined with a pink neon glow.

We needed to get back to the parking lot.

Back to the Bronco and back to Memphis.

We slogged through the shallow channel, cigarette butts and Burger King cups floating by, until we tripped onto the banks of a cotton patch. We had to get at least another hundred yards into the field and then cut back to the parking lot and the Gray Ghost. I gritted my teeth as I stooped low and motioned for the girl to come closer.

Over my shoulder, I searched the back of the casino and saw three men with shotguns veering to the edge. My heart was a booming mess.

A fat red moon hung over them like a Halloween decoration.

She let go of my hand as soon as we reached the edge of the field and followed closely behind. I kept the rifle in my hand and slid off the safety with my thumb. “We’ll get out,” I said. “Just stay with me.”

“Who sent you?” she asked. She was pretty. Shoulder-length blond hair. Wide-set brown eyes and full lips.

“No one,” I said. “I saw you on a security camera.”