The People Traders (3 page)

He frowned, not quite sure who she was talking about. "Who, darling? Who's going to kill who?"

Susan began to cough, the pain beginning to make her feel sick and dizzy. Her father waited and urged her to tell him what she meant.

"Karen, Dad. The man wanted to kill her. They had a fight and he's taken her. Please, Dad, you must call the police," Susan persisted. Tears came to her eyes and she passed out with the pain.

He laid her down gently on the floor then made his way quickly to the bathroom with the intention of bringing back a wet cloth. As he entered, he froze, staring round the room. It looked like a battlefield; blood was everywhere, the shower curtain in tatters, clothes, bottles and cans strewn over the floor beside a broken toilet. He was visibly shaken; it must have been one hell of a fight, but his first priority was to get Susan to hospital, then call the police.

CHAPTER 2

Karen felt cold and sick; they'd been on the road for three hours and were now moving slowly down a single-track road somewhere in Wales.

"Not long now," Frank commented.

She looked at him; the blood from his injuries had dried and congealed on his face. He looked evil and these were the first words he'd uttered since setting off. Trying to talk to him a number of times, he'd ignored her, so she'd finally given up. Suddenly the car jerked to a halt. Turning, he released the seat belt, telling her she could remove her hands from her jeans. Karen did as he told her, rubbing them together to restore the circulation. Frank climbed out of the car and looked back inside. "Stay; don't even think about moving. The nearest habitation's about five miles from here and, believe me, there's no way out but up the way we've come down. I'd catch you in minutes then beat the shit out of you. Do we understand each other?"

Karen nodded. She wasn't stupid; she'd seen the terrain, grassland to one side and steep hills to the other.

Just at that moment two figures appeared, approaching from further down the track. Frank went over to them and shook hands with both. She could hardly make out their conversation, but one of the strangers was arguing about money. The other approached the car and pulled open her door. She looked at him. He was a small man of five foot; his eyes were big and round, protruding from his unshaven face as if on stalks. He was definitely not English, Karen thought, but she couldn't decide what nationality.

"The belt, pass me the belt," he demanded.

She reached down and unfastened it from her ankles. But before she could do anything else, he'd snatched the belt from her hand; slipping it round her neck and looping the free end through the buckle, he pulled tight.

"Try to escape and it'll strangle you. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she answered, her eyes wide with fear.

"Okay, now get out of the car and come with me."

She climbed out and he pulled her forward with the belt, stopping her in front of the other man. This man was six foot, clean-shaven and obviously in charge.

"She's a bit scrawny, I'll not get a lot for her," the man commented.

Frank shrugged. "I couldn't give a fuck how much extra you get, you've already got your payment, so do the job," he responded dryly.

The man moved closer; she could smell beer on his breath. He grasped her face in his big hand, forcing her to look at him directly. "Pretty eyes, nice complexion. How old are you?"

"Seventeen," she replied quietly.

He moved his hands down her body and she stepped back in revulsion. The man slapped her across the face without hesitation, "Don't move!" he shouted.

With her face stinging from the blow and tears running down her cheeks, she stood still as he moved his hands over her body.

Frank watched impatiently. "She's well educated, goes to a convent school. Apart from which she's no wimp. I had a hell of a fight to subdue her; besides, she's some kid in bed, I'm told. They'll be queuing up, I can promise you that," Frank commented.

Karen's eyes widened. "I'm not for bloody sale," she replied curtly.

The men looked at her, and the little fat one began to laugh. "You've not told her, have you?" he laughed.

Frank shrugged. "Why should I?” he replied. "Perhaps you want to enlighten her as to what this is all about?"

The older of the two men nodded his head up and down slowly. "What is her name?" he asked Frank.

"Karen, Karen Marshall," Frank replied.

"Ah yes, I remember now. Well, Karen Marshall, my name's Assam. Perhaps I should tell you a few things as we're going to be in each other's company for some time?" he began. "You see, my partner Garrett and me run this little side-line; we buy and sell things, or to put a finer point on it, we buy and sell people."

The shock on her face was all too apparent, her eyes starting to fill. "There must be a mistake, I've a home and a mum and dad, you can't take it all away," she whispered.

Assam never answered, but snatched her handbag, which Frank was holding, tipping the contents out onto the ground. Then he looked at her for a moment before unclasping her watch and grabbing a cross attached to a small gold chain round her neck. The chain snapped easily and he threw it and the cross to the ground with the watch, stamping on them and all the other personal items from the bag.

"You see, Karen; you did a have a home, a family, even pets. Now your life as it was, is finished. The items you probably held dear, which may have reminded you of that life, are lying in the dirt. So think hard, girl, think very hard, because from this moment, I own you. It is me who decides when you eat, when you sleep and, more importantly, if you live or die."

Unable to understand his words, she stared down at her gold cross, crushed and broken, with her other personal items, lying on the ground. Bravely she looked back up at him watching her, tears running down her cheeks. "Please, may I keep my cross? It was a present from my grandmother who died two months ago. I'm Catholic and I hold it when I pray for her?" she asked, her voice faltering.

He moved closer, his face inches from hers. "You don't seem to understand what I've just said, kid. Now listen well and don't ever talk again, unless I tell you to. You get nothing, nothing I said, and especially not things that have any significance. Do you understand?"

She nodded her head up and down, tears running freely down her cheeks, afraid to answer back at him.

Assam shrugged, indifferent to her distress. "Okay, we take her," he said.

With that, Garrett snatched at the belt, immediately tightening it round the neck and choking her. Hardly able to breathe, he began dragging her back down the path they'd come up.

She started screaming at him to let her go, trying to hold back, but all that happened was the belt tightening round her throat even more. Assam, following behind and watching her struggle, removed a baseball bat from a large pocket inside his coat. Seconds later he struck her across the back of the head. The blow stunned her into silence.

"Struggle or scream once more and I'll hit you again. But next time I'll use some force," Assam shouted into her ear.

With her head spinning from the blow, she stumbled after Garrett.

The track suddenly ended at a steep set of steps leading down into a small cove. At the water's edge a dinghy was bobbing about. Within five minutes they were in the craft. Garrett removed the belt and, sitting on the bench in front of her, began rowing expertly towards a ship some distance away.

She could see as they were approaching; it was some sort of cargo vessel, old, with paint flaking among rusted panels. The two men had turned their backs on her, more concerned with the ship they were approaching rather than what she was doing. Karen had watched and planned. She realised that once on this ship, escape would be hopeless or perhaps impossible. This might be her only chance. A strong swimmer, she'd no real worries about swimming back to shore. All she prayed for now was that they'd not turn to check what she was doing for a few seconds.

Mentally she planned the escape. Her jeans and shoes would have to go; they would drag too much, leaving only t-shirt and knickers. It'd be cold, she knew that, but if she kept going the swim would help keep her warm. Besides, she decided, death trying to escape would be better than the alternative. Reaching down, she unfastened her boots, slipping them from her feet. Then she released her jeans and pushed down the zipper. Now ready, she took a deep breath before standing quickly and throwing herself from the dinghy. The small dinghy rocked dangerously, sending one of the men sprawling into the bottom. The other spun round just in time to see her go over.

Karen swam under water for a short distance before breaking surface, struggling to finally get her jeans off. Now free, she struck out effortlessly towards the shore, often diving deep so as not to give herself away with splashes. A powerful swimmer, this swim for her would have been nothing but for the cold. She'd planned to follow the tide and climb ashore at least half a mile from the cove. However, the constant underwater times, and then the slow strokes on the surface to avoid splashing which might have attracted her pursuers, were taking their toll and she finally decided to come ashore.

The rocks as she approached the shore were dangerous, sea spray rising feet into the air and crashing back, forming a boiling water effect. Holding back a minute and after a particularly high wave, she swam strongly in-between two rocks and then allowed herself to be lifted on the next wave before grasping at the rock. The cold out of the water was unimaginable and Karen began shivering uncontrollably. She'd also begun to feel dizzy and light-headed, frighteningly close to hypothermia. Her only hope now was to move and keep moving. Scrambling up the rocks, she crouched low, trying to see if they'd followed, but there wasn't a sound. Then, after a few minutes, she was on the move, scrambling through deep grass and following the run of the track. The grass was shorter now and no longer offered a place to hide, so to speed things up she moved onto the track and began to sprint. She'd run for at least five minutes and then her heart sank with the sound of a car approaching fast from behind with its lights cutting through the dark. They would have no difficulty in catching her up. Looking round in panic, she left the road and flattened herself to the grass in a vain attempt to hide.

The car stopped feet from her and the door opened. Frank clapped his hands in applause. "I've got to hand it to you, Karen, you're a resourceful girl. After the beating you took earlier, to escape so spectacularly is worth a medal. Anyway, I hope you liked your little swim and you're not too cold? So why don't you just turn round and make your way back down the path? My friends are waiting there. Unfortunately I don't think they're going to be too pleased, do you?"

She looked up from the ground, her body shivering uncontrollably. "I'm too cold, I don't think I can do that," she pleaded.

Frank turned and reached into the car. He pulled out a car blanket, throwing it at her. "Take this, kid, then back down the track."

There was nowhere for her to go, so without a word she turned and walked slowly back from where she'd come. Frank was right; he'd selected a place which had little or no chance of escape.

The dinghy was back at the cove and the two men stood watching her. She stopped some three feet from them, saying nothing.

Assam grinned at her. "Back are you? You've blown your clothes. We've got none; I'm afraid you're down to what you've got left for the whole trip. So why don't you go back to the dinghy like a good little girl?"

She stood her ground but Garrett had moved swiftly and grabbing her arm he began dragging her, screaming, to the dinghy, but Assam was behind her and pushed her on. At the dinghy, Garrett let go and climbed aboard then grasped both her hands. She thought he was helping her aboard but that was not his intention. He pulled her up tight to the side of the dinghy and then forced her head down by grabbing her hair so she was bent over the side. Assam grinned and unfastened his belt. Then he pulled her knickers to her feet. "Now, little girl, it's time you knew just who's in charge round here and it's certainly not you," he growled.

Seconds later the belt hit her squarely across the buttocks, making her scream in pain. Three times it landed before he stopped. Karen was sobbing uncontrollably.

"Next time you disobey me or my partner and try to escape, you'll feel my belt across your backside again. Each time I'll double the beating, then if that doesn't help, I'll send you for a night with the crew. I think with twelve men away from home and the chance of a young girl for their entertainment, it may just bring out the animal in them, don't you think?"

Never in her life had she been so frightened. She hadn't even known people like this existed, but this was reality. She was alone, unable to understand or comprehend just what was happening to her.

"I'm waiting for an answer, or haven't I got through to you yet? Perhaps a few more strokes will loosen your tongue?"

His threat quickly broke her silence. "I'm sorry, Sir," she stuttered. "I promise I won't be any more trouble."

He stared at her for a moment, still bent over the side, and then raised the belt again. However, by this time Karen had relaxed, not expecting more punishment, so the shock of the belt, not on her now numb bottom, but across the tops of her legs, followed by intense pain, stunned her.