Catch Me If You Can

Two cheerleaders run into some trouble at a Salon and end up getting bagged. On this journey home, they meet two other girls. With Mental and Physical problems, they might face dangerous situations and struggle to get out of the desert alive. Can they all survive or will some fall behind??

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2. Chapter 2


     **Hunter**

          “Boys! Get out here!!” Dad yelled. We are kind of his slaves around here since all he ever wanted were his sisters back. So every year he brings 4-5 girls in and pretends that they are his sisters and after about a year he kills them and gets “new sisters” and then drags me and my brother, Caleb, into it. “BOYS!!” he yells even louder.

                We always obey our father, Zane Miranda, because if we don’t they won’t hesitate kicking us out of the house and suspend us from food for a week or more. “Like the usual boys.” Hunter get the van girls and Caleb get the girls in my car.”

                “Yes father.” We say in unison. And begin to work getting “our aunts” to the main room in the basement. They are way too young to be our aunts because we are always around the same age. They came with a new tactics this time and started punching and hitting. I really hate this ‘job’ because I don’t want to end up killing innocent people.

                I pick up one girl, dark hair, light skin, bruised and  bleeding and needing medical attention. She’s light, probably weighing about 100 pounds or so. Maybe seventeen or eighteen. Pretty, but looks a little off, like there is something wrong with her. I feel bad for her that she will have to die next winter. She could have had a full life ahead of her too, which is the saddening part. I get her to the main room where 5 beds sit. Heavily quilted and not too clean, completed with brass framing that’s crumbling and chains and restrains. The main room is more of a blob shape with no real symmetry and dirt and stone walls surrounding it. And this whole area is underground. This is your complete mental hospital even if there is nothing wrong with these girls. We have torture rooms and changing rooms where we transform the girls into the sisters cut hair, change wardrobe, excreta. It’s a dark place and all I want to do is escape from it when I turn 18 and bring my brother with. Move someplace far far away from here like sunny Florida or New York or someplace.

                I strap the now squirming girl to a bed and pull the covers over her because it really is freezing down here, winter or not. I go back up and get to the van for the other girl. Long blonde and extremely beautiful, bloody and bruised or not. Her eyes are closed but I guarantee they are just as beautiful as I bet they’d be. She looks around the same age, seventeen or eighteen nails done up pretty and she looks like she would have a boyfriend back where she came from. Her beauty makes me want to get to know her better. If only that were possible. I carry her unconscious self down the stairs and into the main room. I put her in the best and most private bed. That also happened to be the biggest of them all.

 

      **Caleb**

 

                The first girl I carry down to the main room is very petite with dark hair and muddy brown eyes glued open almost. Young, maybe fourteen or fifteen. Probably one of the youngest we’ve ever had here. She will never get to drive or grow up… I dismiss these thoughts as the rules are we can’t feel anything for the sisters unless we are told to. I guess my dad and uncle want us to grow up and carry on the tradition and they can keep thinking that but it isn’t happening. I chain her to a bed a go back to get the other girl.

                When I pull her out I notice something different about her, I just couldn’t place it. She has brunette hair that comes down a little farther than her shoulders. Her eyes closed, she looks like she’s resting peacefully, probably one of the last times she will. I know the rules but I couldn’t help myself, she was just so beautiful and I wanted to protect her and care for her even if I was the one who put her in chains and locked her up. I wish there was something I could do for her but I’d be killed if I let her go with directions and a car.

                I wish they wouldn’t do this because it is wrong but my brother and I can afford to feed ourselves and don’t have the guts to run away. This is our ‘job’ and how we keep ourselves fed and healthy and alive. We do it because we have to, defiantly not because we want to. I couldn’t imagine being in her shoes right now and waking up chained to a bed so she can’t try and escape.

 
     **Brit**

 

                When I slowly regain consciousness I find my wrists and ankles bound and a guard standing by the door I can only see his boots. I can’t escape. I start to struggle and throw a fit and the restrains only get tighter and tighter the more I struggle. I refuse to admit that I am trapped.

                “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He says kindly, not the tone of voice you would expect to hear for this kind of situation.

                “Who are you?” I asked bitterly, to busy to focus on the room. I was focusing on my attacker and nothing else.

                “My name is Hunter. I’m a slave and this, he gestured to my bed is and never will be my intention to harm you. I am Zane’s son, I was kind of born into this whether I liked it or not. As soon as I turn eighteen I am fleeing this place.”

                He seemed to be telling the truth. His baby blue eyes and blonde hair suggested that he was. Tall and muscular. Defiantly skinny like he has gone days without eating. But on the other hand he didn’t seem like he is to be trusted and looks like he could over power me if we ever fought. I still kept both eyes on him. Not letting him leave my sight.

                “What’s your name?” He asks politely.

                “I suppose I don’t have anything to loose.. so.. my name is Brittney.” I paused searching his face for any sign of what he was thinking. He just smiled at me and I felt like I needed to say something more than just that, so I add, “Most people call me Brit, but you haven’t earned the right yet, so for now, It’s just Brittney.” I said sassily. Then I start to think of my sister and re-assigned my priorities to her.

                I quickly jerk my head around the room until I lay eyes on her, sleeping quietly and safe for the moment if you can even call this place ‘safe’. Hunter noticed my rapid movement and he said “that’s your sister, isn’t it?” he said sympathetically.

                “Maybe..?” I said, but he knew that was a yes. I’m a good liar most of the time, just not this time apparently. I guess I was just relieved that my sister and I were in the same room. If there were more than one. I know she needs her older sister, but she rarely admits it out loud. I look back at Hunter who is stepping cautiously closer. He looks like he knows I could snap, but if I do I don’t think it would be at him because he seems more trusting than Damon or Zane Miranda. And I still don’t know who I can trust. Not yet. 

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