Chapter 2

The previous Wednesday late evening

Sarah’s House

Harborton, Washington

Sarah jolted awake from her deep sleep and immediately bounced out of bed to the small desk against the far wall of her typical girly girl bedroom. She switched on the small desk light, pulled out a small tablet of paper and a pen and started writing and sketching furiously.

She had received an urgent message/dream from Waghoba, her goddess mother. It was mostly a jumbled mess in her mind but some details were crystal clear. The dream had appeared to her as if she were a participant and began with impressions of a small village in what felt like a tropical climate. She had been walking along a dirt road when she was violently grabbed by rough hands, pulled off of her feet and thrown into the back of a canvas covered truck. There were what looked like a dozen or so other girls and young women in the truck with her. In her dream state Sarah struggled and fought until a rough sack was pulled over her head and she felt a hard blow to the back of her head and then there was blackness.

When dream Sarah came to she was in a large metal container with thirty to forty other women. She could feel the pitch and roll of the ocean and smell salt spray through the taint of diesel oil and the overpowering stench of people in too close contact with each other with no toilets and no way to clean themselves.

The rest of the journey in the metal box was an abbreviated jumble where all she could remember doing was praying hopelessly to her village protector for help and trying to keep from throwing up the small amount of rice and water that was passed into them daily.

It was impossible to tell time exactly, but it was evening when they received their last rice and water. Shortly after that the motion of the ship calmed to almost nothing and she could hear the sound of smaller boats approaching.

Rough men of indeterminate origins with filthy hands and clothes and leering grins herded the women down a steep, pitching, wooden gangplank onto the small boats in groups of eight and ten. One woman who had been violently ill for several days and couldn’t keep her feet, slipped and tumbled between the rope rails into the water below. None of the men made any effort to help her as her feeble cries echoed up from the water. By the time Sarah’s dream presence was shoved down to the boat, the woman’s cries had fallen silent.

The smaller boats ran from the ship toward the far shore for what felt like at least an hour. Their destination was a decrepit wooden wharf in a small rocky cove with a steep heavily forested shoreline. There were more rough looking men on the dock to take charge of them. These men were mostly bearded and wore greasy looking jeans and strange looking leather jackets. Her dream self was terrified to see a bright red, horned demon figure emblazoned on the back of each of these jackets.

The demon men pushed and shoved them up the steep hill. Any of them that fell or staggered out of line were beaten with extendable metal rods. Finally, they reached the top and were again forced into trucks. A short time later they were dropped off in a gravel lot surrounded by forest lit by work lights on tall poles. Sarah’s dream self couldn’t see any lights or hear any road noise so she guessed that they were at a very remote location.

As soon as the last girl had reached the gravel the men began bellowing out commands in a variety of languages. None of them were hers though. Thankfully she had learned a little English from the village school and was able to make out some of what was said. Other’s weren’t so lucky.

“Get those filthy clothes off now you skanky whores. NOW!” said a large fat demon man.

Any of the women who didn’t immediately start undressing in the cold night air were beaten across the back and buttocks. The woman standing next to her was crying so hard that she didn’t immediately start stripping. A tall skinny demon man with a matted black beard nearly down to his stomach immediately stepped behind the unfortunate woman and beat her to the ground until blood was flying off of the backs of her legs.

“Easy on the merchandise Jimbo! If she scars too badly no one will want her and our investment will have to go into the disposal dumpster.” The fat demon man admonished with an evil smile.

Once they were all naked, they were lined up and two of the demon men sprayed the freezing women with high pressure water hoses. Sarah’s dream self was already so detached from her body that she just stood there numbly, she couldn’t even bring herself to react.

A few minutes later the 40 women were all standing there naked, shivering under the harsh lights too full of despair to care much what happened next.

“Okay boys, you each can pick one for the next few days. But don’t damage her too much. There’s a very limited market for the ones that are marked. And none that might be virgins! We get extra for those.” the fat demon announced.

The demon men surged forward and yanked women out of the line. One of them chose a girl who couldn’t have been more than 12.

“Naw put her back Tony. You know better than that. She’ll bring 15k easy to the right buyer.’ the Fat demon admonished.

“Aw fer fuck sake, alright I’ll take this one instead.” said a stubble faced demon man.

Sarah’s dream persona was terrified as the man reached out and grabbed her by the arm, roughly jerking her next to him. He spun her around examining her like a goat in the marketplace.

“Goddammit, she’s bleeding like a stuck pig. That’s disgusting.” the stubble faced demon said as he shoved her roughly back into line and went to choose another.

Sarah’s dream persona said a prayer to her guardian goddess as she glanced down and could see the menstrual blood seeping from between her thighs ... She hadn’t even realized that she had begun her moon time.

The women were next crowded toward a pallet with a stack of thin gray cotton shifts and rough blankets where they were allowed one each. They were not given time to don the shifts before they were forced into yet another large metal container with a wooden pallet floor.

As soon as the last woman cleared the doors they were slammed closed and she could hear the bars sliding into place and a lock clicking shut. Their new home was freezing cold with only a small dim lantern hanging from the ceiling for light and a stinking bucket for their wastes.

As the exhausted women huddled together toward the back of the container, hugging each other for warmth, Sarah’s dream persona began praying like she never had before. Surely Waghoba, protector of the jungle and her village could help? Waghoba had many times protected Eesha’s small village from brigands and thieves and even from rogue creatures of the jungle itself.

The Tiger Goddess must help!

At last Sarah felt that she had written down and sketched all the details that she could possibly remember. She felt that she had enough for Lizzy to work with. Over the last couple of months Lizzy had managed to hack into nearly every major law enforcement network both local and regional. There must be a way of tracking the motorcycle gang down from their insignia. They had to be local. Sarah recognized the cove and the old wooden wharf from when her dad had taken her salmon fishing near Port Jonesby last year.

She knew that this was extremely urgent. She had to call the group together. These women were likely to be moved quickly and then any leads they had would vanish. She could feel that these women were soon in for an even worse fate than sexual servitude. Sarah and her friends had to save them. Save the women and then destroy the evil assholes who were behind this.