Chapter 18: Miss Whitman’s Class

Sherri Whitman was a new substitute teacher at Del Rio Junior High in Del Rio, Texas. She’d just graduated from Texas Southern two years ago and got hired by her hometown school system. Mostly she was on call still, filling in when needed. Today she’d just finished her coffee when she got a call from the Assistant Principal.

“Mr. Cranston has COVID. Again. So, I need you to take his class on their field trip.” She asked where, and he said, “Oh, I don’t know, someplace down by the border, I think. I’ll give the address to the driver.”

Sherri got dressed and drove to the school. She wore her usual knee-length skirt with a simple blouse plus her stockings. When she got there, the yellow school short bus was already parked by the front door. When she walked up to the building, Mrs. Johnson opened the door and, smiled, said, “Here you go!” Out came Mr. Cranston’s class. Turns out, it was eight girls from his gym class. Sherri said, “But, but, wait, where...” Mrs. Johnson just waved and said “Talk to Jose! He has the directions. Bye!”

Sherri got on the bus with the eight girls in gym clothes. She looked at them, then at Jose, the driver. He stared blankly back at her. She finally shrugged and said to Jose, “OK, well let’s go to wherever it is we’re going!” As they pulled out of the school, she sat behind Jose, leaned up and said, “Excuse me, Jose, I just got called for this. I don’t even know where we’re going.” Jose grinned, laughed a little bit. Jose said, “No worry! We go to this little farm in the country. There we see lots of animals and horses.” A couple of the girls heard that and the word quickly spread. Horses!

Sherri was 24 years old, weighed about 135 pounds, stood just about 5’8” tall. Her long, brown hair was still in the same simple style it had been all through college. Trimmed just below her shoulders. Sherri had a very nice butt, and a somewhat above average pair of breasts. Her bra always kept them up, visible if the top button ever came undone. Two buttons would show her entire cleavage. The buttons were widely spaced on this slightly-too small blouse, so there was plenty of breast to see from the side. Also, being two years old, this blouse had been through so many washes, her bra was always visible when you stood near her.

The girl’s gym class were eight graders. There were six girls fourteen years old, and two girls fifteen years old. The two oldest girls, Matina and Maria, actually looked younger than the others. Both of Mexican decent, their long black hair and Mexican features clearly showed them to be twins. Both girls had typical Mexican girl bodies. Both had big butts, compared to the others. Both had the biggest boobs right now too, easily a 33B each. With their Mexican-heritage big areoles and nipples, they were a sight. They had the bodies of older girls, but the facial looks like they were twelve.

The other six were just average American teenage girls. Four were blonde; Kathy, Cindy, Marie and Janice. Susan had light brown hair, while Danielle was a darker brunette. Only a couple really stood out. Cindy and Marie had figures the others could only envy. Shapley hips, long, thin legs with cute butts. In the gym showers nobody cared, though. Like now, they were all constantly talking, gabbing and sharing secrets in a non-stop and endless conversation. None of them knew where they were going except that there might be horses. Just some kind of tour or something. But did you hear what Bobby said to Margret?

Jose Sanchez was hired by a Mexican-run company that provided part-time drivers on short notice. They often skipped paperwork in the spirit of getting the job done on time first. People knew them as a last-ditch but reliable source. They might drive a dump truck one day, a school bus the next. Jose was outsourced to several other temporary help services, along with the other drivers. They would stay at the office until needed, hanging around with nowhere else to go.

Jose Sanchez actually was a member of the Tigres crime family in Mexico. His job was to focus on schools. He would text daily information about kids: where he dropped them, anything to do with kids between 11 and 18 years old. He didn’t ask why; he just did what he was told. He texted he was called out to take a school bus with eight girls to the arena downtown for a tour. Soon he got a text back. “Go to this address instead.” It went on to outline a description of the route to take. Instead of downtown, it led to a farm not far from the border. He knew this place. It was often the first stop for kidnapped children before going south to the brothels.

Luckily, the good-looking American teacher didn’t know anything about the trip, so he told her they were going to a petting farm. “Horses, too.” The drive took almost an hour. The farther they went, the more desolate the landscape became. Few trees, like a desert. The girls started to look around, quietly wondering where they were going to so far out here. Sherri was listening to her book on her iPhone when she noticed the girls had all stopped talking. She looked back, saw them looking around, confused about something. Where they were? Wait, where were they? She looked out at the bleak landscape. Jeesh, where were they going? She pulled the earphones off and leaned up to Jose. “How much farther?” she asked.

“Just a little more ways. Just around this hill over here.” Jose drove down the dirt road, came around the last curve and the farm came into view. A single story, log cabin-style home, but larger. A barn, not much else. The bus pulled up in front in a cloud of dust. Four men moved towards the bus, forming a semi-circle. Jose stood up, said with a big, happy grin on his face, “OK! Let’s go! We’re here, girls! Everybody off the bus!”

Everyone stood up, and walked to the exit, not sure what kind of farm this was supposed to be. Where were the horses? Outside, Sherri stopped in front, a few feet from one of the men. The eight girls got off the bus and stood behind Miss Whitman. One man spoke up in a heavy accent. “You will all follow me, please.” He simply turned and walked towards the house. The other three men just glared at them. Sherri started to follow the man, and all the girls fell in behind her.

Sherri was asking the man as they walked, “Um, excuse me, we’re, we’re from the Del Rio Junior High. We’re here, I mean, we’re supposed to be on a field trip, sir...?” The man, a big Mexican man, just walked in front, not saying anything except, “Si, si, si.” They all went into the farm house, then through a door into a room. Sherri thought it must be like a classroom or something. Once everyone was inside, the four men moved in and forcefully slammed the door shut. The man that had led them in walked up to Sherri. He suddenly grabbed her around her head, pulling a large knife from his belt. He put the edge to her throat. She froze, staring at the blade. Everyone else let out a gasp or a cry. One of the men grabbed Sherri’s arms behind her. The man with the knife spoke.

“Listen up, chicas. From now on, you will do what we tell you to do! If you do not, I will cut your teacher’s throat, and let you all watch her slowly bleed to death!” The girls all stood there, eyes wide, afraid to say anything, waiting for whatever might come next.

Manuel kept the knife to her throat, leaned close to her. He spoke to everyone. “Rule number 1. There is to be no talking. You do not speak unless we tell you to. Understand?! No talking!” He slid the knife up a little higher. Everyone nodded. Susan, standing in back, spoke up. “Hey! You can’t do this! We’re on a field trip from our school! You have to let us go! You, you...” A couple of other girls said cautiously, “Yeah...” Two men walked back and grabbed Susan. They dragged her up front. The man slowly put his knife away, carefully eased Sherri back with the others. He turned to Susan, then violently punched her hard with his fist, right in her face. The others cried out while Susan fell backward, held up by the two men still. Manuel then punched her vary hard in her chest three times. She gasped for air, every breath a painful exercise.

Manuel turned to the others. “Rule number 1. No talking. You disobey rules, you get worse than this little demonstration.” The other two threw Susan back to the group. All of the girls were definitely terrified now. Just where Manuel wanted them. He turned to the other men. “Vamos,” he said and they all left, closing the door and locking it. The light went out. In total darkness, the group tried to help Susan. She had a big bruise on her forehead now, and a bruise on her upper chest. She struggled for every breath.

Manuel went to the office, made a call. He discussed business for a while, then hung up. He said to the others, “Fucking idiots. They want us to send the gringos right now, through tunnel C.” Ricardo said, “Right now? Tunnel C? You sure?” Manuel nodded. “Right now.” The others knew two things about this. One, moving this many girls at once in daylight was risky. Second, they had near group of trees the entrance for tunnel C. Tunnel C was the worst of the three tunnels. The other two, A & B, were made big enough to walk through, though hunched over. They had lights. Each tunnel went for one mile across the border to another exit point on the Mexican side. A & B exited into old farmhouses. Tunnel C came out in the middle of nowhere. Tunnel C had no lights, and the only way through was to crawl. It was quite small and narrow, all dirt, with plenty of bugs and mice running around. It was the worst. Usually only the poorest people from Mexico use it to come to the US.

The door opened. The girls were told to go outside and get back on the bus, except Matina. Maria called to her sister, but she was forced to exit with the others, leaving her sister behind. One guard held Matina tightly, as she cried out, “Maria! Maria, wait! Maria!”

The other girls moved quickly, thinking they were going home. They crowded on the bus, began calling for Matina, too. The guards got on the bus too, began yelling at them to shut up, hitting them when they didn’t keep silent.

Matina was payment to the group who had arranged the kidnapping and brought them all to Tunnel C. It had been agreed that beside the cash payment, they could choose one to keep. One Mexican girl, their choice which. The four guards got on the bus and Jose drove a mile or so to a group of small trees. He backed up near one, stopped. They opened the back door, made everyone stand up.

Manuel spoke. “Listen up! There is a small passageway you must crawl through. It is not far. Once you go in, you must not come back. If you come back, you will be shot as you exit.” He held up his rifle, loaded it with the bolt action. “Once you start, do not stop until you get to the other end. There is not much air, so you must move quickly. Now, go! Vamos!”

Jose held the trap door open. The first girl, Cindy, jumped down from the bus, looked in. It was just a hole in the ground. “Vamos! Rapido!” Jose yelled at her, then shoved her into the hole. The hole was about 5 feet deep. Cindy fell in, but couldn’t get back out. In the hole, she saw only a small entrance. Cindy looked up, questioningly. “Si, si, go there. Do not stop until you get to the other end. Do not stop! Do not come back!” He pulled a revolver from his belt line. Cindy knelt down and crawled in. It was so small in there, and dark. It was terrifying. The sides were barely wide enough; she couldn’t even think about turning around. She could get on her hands and knees, but that was it. It was such a small tunnel. The men kept yelling, “Go! Go! Get moving, chica!” Cindy cried back, “I, I can’t see anything!” Marie crawled in behind her. She told Cindy to move in more. “He keeps hitting me! Move in more! Move in more!” She cried out each time he smacked her butt with a rod. Cindy hated this, but she started to crawl forward. It was total darkness in front of her, in a small dirt tunnel underground. Claustrophobic, for sure! No lights, no idea where she was going. More girls crawled in. The men kept yelling down the tunnel, “Keep going! Don’t stop! There is not enough air to stop! Keep moving!”

Cindy was scared to death. She crawled and crawled on her hands and knees, the others right behind her. Their teacher must have come in last. She heard the others chattering to each other, everyone just as terrified, then the teacher screamed and they heard rattlesnakes! “Go faster! Go faster Please!” their teacher cried out in a terrified panic.

The men had a rattlesnake they kept in a small cage. This was the fun part, the motivating part. The teacher was held back until last. They tied a rope very securely around her ankle. At the top of the hole, they brought out the rattlesnake. It was in a metal cage, and pissed off as usual. They tied the rope to the cage and then told her to get moving. They dropped the cage into hole with her.

Sherri let out a terrifying scream as this cage with a rattlesnake in it fell by her feet, the snake rattling loudly and striking at the cage, trying to bite her. She screamed at the others to hurry up! Hurry up! As she crawled behind them, this snake’s cage was being dragged just five feet behind her. Every single one of the girls could hear the snake hissing as Sherri screamed to keep moving. “It’s right behind me! Keep moving! Don’t stop!” She screamed hysterically into the darkness. This really got those girls moving. Sherri’s biggest fear was that the cage would break open while being dragged behind her, letting the poisonous snake get out. The girls behind Cindy were coughing from the dust. She froze when she heard mice squeaking ahead. She screamed when one, unseen, ran past her. She quickly moved ahead as everyone else began to scream too. Farther she crawled, more mice or rats she passed.

The man was right; there wasn’t a lot of air in here. It was so small, so dark, she was getting very, very claustrophobic. Actually, they all were. A few girls got so terrified the just froze, too scared to even move. The others made them though, made them keep moving. The air, the smallness of this dirt hole, was too much to bear. They had to get out. Faster! They had to get out NOW!

It was a long, long time before Cindy suddenly saw a light in the darkness. The one light totally confused her at first, made her unsure which way was up or down. Soon she saw the end, came out into a hole like before. As she crawled out of that disgusting, horrible tunnel two men grabbed her arms and pulled her up to the surface. They kept doing this until all eight women were out. All were crying, gasping for air. Their knees hurt, their bodies hurting from being bent over for so long in such a tiny prison.

Sherri was last. The men exclaimed at the snake tied to her leg. There were several shots, then the snake was dead. One man pulled out a big knife and cut the rope from her ankle, cutting her ankle in the process. She breathed in deep breaths; she almost suffocated in that hole. It had indeed been terrifying. She looked around. A group of men stood around them. She saw several other men laying on the ground. Oh my God, they were dead! Like, there were four dead bodies all around them! The girls saw them too, moved closer together.