Path of Jen: Bloodborne (7 page)

The light she saw was streaming in from a
window or an opening with some sort of flapping curtain. The images
she saw were of bundled clothing and sacks of something near her on
the floor. She heard a rumbling noise and felt vibrations; there
was an inconsistent rocking and bumping feeling as if the whole
building was moving. Jen carefully opened her eyes again and tried
to understand what she saw. Realization slowly set in.

She was not in a building. She was in the
back of a truck, rumbling and bouncing down a dirt road. What she
assumed were bundles of clothing and sacks of something were
actually bodies. She was one of many people lying in the back of a
truck.

She gasped.

Jen tried to sit up and realized that her
hands were tied behind her back. She remembered the taxi driver and
the two men from the van and made the connection.
“I’ve been
kidnapped!”
she thought. She quickly looked to the front of the
truck to see if anyone was watching. There was no window or opening
between the truck bed she and the others rode in and the cab of the
truck. Although her head was pounding furiously, Jen managed to sit
up. Each of the others in the truck looked to be young girls. Most
of them looked even younger than her.

Jen laid back and brought her knees up. She
forced her hands below her feet and brought them up in front of
her. She turned over onto her knees and scooted toward the flap at
the back of the truck and peered out. They were traveling through
nondescript terrain. She could only see rocks, dirt, and a few
trees, but no buildings or power lines. There were some large rocky
formations in the distance, but there was nothing to indicate where
they actually were.

The truck lurched and Jen was knocked onto
her side. The truck engine slowed and they came to a stop.
“What
is happening?”
Jen fretted silently. The engine shut off and
she heard the truck doors open and slam shut. The crunching of
boots on gravel indicated that people were walking on either side
of the truck from the front to the rear. The flap was thrown aside
and a bearded face peered into the truck bed. The man had dark
bushy eyebrows and his eyes seemed sunken deep in his head. His
scowl frightened Jen.

Jen pushed herself away from him, roughly
worming backward over the other girls. Her bound hands were held in
front of her as she kicked her feet and rocked side to side with
her hips and shoulders to create more distance. She wanted to
scream,
“Stay away from me!”
but she remembered something
her mom once told her about blending in.

“Jena,” she said. “You have an advantage when
traveling. Your Iranian heritage gives you the ability to blend in,
as long as you don’t speak. Being an American is usually not an
asset when traveling abroad. Keep it to yourself when you can."

The man said something harsh in Arabic, and
the tailgate dropped. He and another man began pulling the girls
out of the truck and setting them beside the road. The young girls
began stirring and making soft sounds as they came out of the drug
induced stupor they had all been subjected to. Jen stayed as far to
the front of the truck bed as she could. The old man kept gesturing
to come out, and saying the same phrase. Jen shook her head no and
hugged her knees. Finally, the other man, who was both younger and
clean shaven, climbed into the truck bed and dragged her out.

When her feet hit the ground Jen tried to
run, but the old man was ready. He cuffed her hard on the back of
the neck, sending her sprawling forward to the ground. Jen’s hands
stung from scraping on the gravel as she broke her fall. She
skinned her knee as well. She pushed herself to a kneeling position
and stared defiantly up at the men with hate in her eyes. The older
man reached for her arm and she spit at him. A boot caught her in
the side of the head and she fell back to the ground senseless.

A cool cloth touched her forehead and Jen
startled awake. “Shhhh,” said a girl’s voice. Jen opened her eyes
to see a teenage girl, about her own age, cradling her head and
gently wiping her brow with a wet rag. Jen gently pushed her hand
away and sat up. Her head hurt, but she ignored it.

She was still among the group of girls from
the truck. They were all awake now, and huddled together on the
side of the road. Jen saw some of them nibbling on pieces of what
looked to be flat bread. Some girls had to feed others, whose hands
were tied behind their backs, like Jen’s had been before. A water
bottle was passed and Jen leaned forward and accepted it when it
came near. She took a mouthful and swallowed. She was incredibly
thirsty, and although she could have taken it all, she passed it
along. The next young girl smiled at her as she took it. Jen smiled
back briefly and then looked to the truck. The two men were sitting
on the ground in the shade of the old yellow truck eating some sort
of finger food out of a metal lunch box. They also shared a bottle
of water.

The same young girl that Jen passed the water
to touched her arm. Jen turned to her and accepted the small piece
of bread she was offering. The girl was probably eight or nine
years old, and had large brown eyes. She was light skinned, even
more-so than Jen. Her hijab was black, and didn’t quite cover all
of her dark brown hair.
“She’ll be beautiful when she gets
older,”
thought Jen.
“If she gets older."

The older man said something in Farsi to the
group of girls, and they all looked at him. No one else moved, so
Jen sat still as well. He repeated the words and pointed to the
truck. The younger girls looked toward her and one of the older
girls, but still no one moved. Jen gingerly got to her feet. Her
head still throbbed, and she was feeling unsteady. The other girls
began moving once she stood up. Soon they were all standing and the
group began shuffling toward the bed of the truck.

As Jen approached the tailgate, the old man
grinned, exposing large gaps between his yellowed teeth.
“
Eeew, gross!
”
she thought.
“Was he born like that?
She dropped her gaze
and tried to ignore him as she climbed up and into the back of the
truck. It was difficult to get in, and she felt a hand on her rear,
give her a boost, and then linger just a little too long. Jen
turned around angrily and saw the same gap-toothed grin. She shoved
her disdain aside and reached out to help the other girls up. The
men were lifting up those who still had their hands tied behind
them. Jen noticed the men were smiling as they did it. She
suspected it had something to do with where they placed their hands
as they helped. Both men were at least forty, and most of the girls
were not even teens. She felt like throwing up.

The little girl with light skin, who had been
sitting next to Jen reached for her hands, but the old man stepped
between them. He said something quietly to the little girl and
placed his hands on her hips. He picked her up and spun her around,
seating her on the truck bed. He leaned closer and spoke softly
again. She quickly scrambled and turned onto all fours to crawl
away from him into the truck. His hands snaked out and grasped her
around the hips and pulled her back toward him, changing grip to
hold her under the armpits. His fingers covered her chest and he
acted as if he were merely helping her. The girl froze, unsure what
to do. Jen took hold of her and pulled her into the truck away from
the disgusting old man. She felt such anger, fear, and disgust all
at once that she didn’t know what to do. She trembled and prayed
silently.

Moments later the flap was down and Jen heard
the truck doors slam shut. The engine sputtered to life and the old
yellow truck lurched forward. The girls were silent as they resumed
their bumpy, swaying journey toward uncertainty.
“Wherever we’re
headed, it won’t be good,”
Jen thought. The little girl with
light skin locked eyes with her and Jen tried to smile
reassuringly. Jen spoke softly, unsure if the girl could hear and
less sure that she would understand. “
I
don
’t know where they are taking us or what they are going
to do with us, but I promise you that I will watch over you if I
can." Jen held out her hand and the little girl scooted closer and
took hold of it. To Jen’s surprise she leaned her head against Jen
and closed her brown eyes. A sudden longing for her mom hit Jen in
the center of the chest. She put her other arm around the girl and
closed her eyes. Jen leaned her head against the side of the truck
and tried to fall asleep. Her head still throbbed, and her body
still ached, but now that she had someone else to look after, she
didn’t feel quite so scared or lonely.

The truck rumbled and growled across the
countryside for hours before stopping again. It was dark when the
engine stopped and Jen heard the familiar sound of boots crunching
on gravel. The flap was thrown back and the same two men appeared
at the back of the truck. This time all of the girls eagerly hopped
out and moved in a tight group next to the road as soon as the
tailgate was opened. The younger of the two men brought them a few
rolls and two bottles of water to share, and then returned to sit
with the older man by the front of the truck.

Jen surveyed their surroundings by the faint
moonlight and felt completely lost. There were no lights and no
points of reference to measure distance. Beyond the immediate area
of the truck, there was only darkness.

A dog barked nearby and Jen jumped.
“What
is that?”
she wondered.
“Is it a wild dog, or is it
someone’s pet? Is there someone nearby that might help us?"
Jen
stood up and looked in the direction of the noise. Her eyes slowly
adjusted to the weak moonlight as she struggled to see beyond their
group. Soon, she could make out the outline of a hill against the
night sky. Then she was able to see boulders and other organic
shapes such as bushes and small trees. She couldn’t see the dog,
but she heard it moving in the darkness and hoped it wasn’t
dangerous. Jen sat back down and partook of the water and bread.
She looked over her shoulder every few minutes to make sure the dog
wasn’t behind her.

The girls all needed to pee, but no one
wanted to go into the darkness alone. Jen was no exception. A
couple of the girls pulled up their dresses and squatted just
outside their huddle. The men took notice and although Jen couldn’t
understand the language, she understood the suggestive tone and
crude laughter. Jen gathered a few stones from the ground near her
feet and stood up. She looked around the circle and motioned for
the other girls to follow. All of them had their hands bound in the
front now. The older girls had helped each other, and then the
younger girls, bring their hands under their feet and to the front
during the truck ride. Jen walked slowly away from the truck and
farther into the darkness. Some of the others followed, but a few
stayed. When they were far enough away for some sort of privacy,
Jen stopped and dropped the rocks at her feet. Keeping alert for
noises, and watching all around, she unfastened her jeans and
lifted her tunic. She pretended she was just out camping and
ignored the fact that there were dangerous men, and perhaps
dangerous animals around. Jen did what she needed to do and the
others did as well. Once her jeans were fastened and she was
feeling better, she picked up the rocks and waited for the rest to
finish. She kept watch, turning in a slow circle. That is how she
saw the approaching truck before anyone else.

The truck rumbled and whined slowly up the
road from the direction they were heading. As it approached, the
men watching them also heard it and stood up. They watched the
approaching headlights and spoke to each other quietly. The younger
man reached into the cab of the old yellow truck and turned the
headlights on and then off one time. The other truck stopped for a
moment and then continued forward even more slowly.

“
Maybe it’s the police!”
hoped Jen.
“Or maybe it’s the army!"
Then, running with that thought,
she wondered,
“Maybe it’s the US Army or maybe the CIA!”

It took ten minutes before the other truck
reached the pull off where they had stopped to rest. It pulled off
the road ahead of the yellow truck and the engine stopped. Jen’s
heart raced as the front doors opened.
“Please, God!”
she
prayed.
“Please let it be someone to save us and take us
home!”

The men who stepped out of the other truck
were younger than the two men who had brought the girls this far.
They were dressed in light colored robes and wore head dresses, or
hats that reminded Jen of pastries, or a large skinny doughnuts.
They had stringy facial hair and their bodies were thin. Even in
the poor light, Jen could tell they were darker than the two older
men. To Jen’s horror, the younger men embraced the older men and
shared slaps on the back. This was obviously not a rescue.

The older men led the girls to the other
truck, which had a camper shell but was smaller than the old yellow
truck they had been traveling in. They began the re-loading process
as before. The groping and harassment were liberal, while the
actual helping was scant. Jen was the second to last into the
truck. She had helped the little girl into the truck while the men
were busy with others, and then quickly hopped up after. A pretty
girl of ten or eleven was trying to step up into the truck when the
oldest man grabbed her around the waist and drug her back to the
old yellow truck. His younger partner laughed and followed eagerly.
The other two men traded a few words and sat back against the
tailgate casually to wait. One of them lit a cigarette and the two
men smoked while the older men took turns with the girl in the
other truck.

A few minutes later the younger of the two
old men brought the girl back and shoved her up into the truck. She
scrambled to the front of the truck bed and curled into a trembling
ball and sobbed. Jen was beyond furious and clenched her fists.
“You pigs!”
she wanted to shout.
“She’
s just a girl!
"
Just then she
realized she was still holding a rock from earlier. She threw it as
hard as she could at the man and hit him square on the nose. A loud
crack sounded as the rock broke his beak-like nose and he fell to
his knees with a shout. The younger men burst out laughing and
halfheartedly tried to help him up. He angrily brushed them aside
and tried to climb into the truck after whoever had assaulted him.
The younger men, who were stronger than their slim bodies
portrayed, yanked him bodily out of the truck and shouted at him in
Farsi. They closed the back of the truck and locked the camper
shell.