Page 66 of Heathens
I stop walking. “You know what? We forgot to tell our friends where we were going,“ I shout.
The man turns around, giving us a surprised look. “Oh. Sure.” He looks around, and I follow his gaze.
Empty.
Somehow, we’re on an empty street. Though it’s well-lit, it’s utterly abandoned. The haze of leftover cigarette smoke makes the lampposts look fuzzy. Everyone is out celebrating on the Seine. I listen, and my skin pebbles when I realize I can’t even hear the music anymore. How far have we walked? I take a step back, grabbing Evelyn as I back away.
“Nice meeting you,” I say quickly, feeling my pulse in my throat. We’re two against one. Not that I’m thinking of fighting him off, but if we had to, we could.
Two figures appear at the end of the street. “Bye,” Evelyn yells, pulling me away from the two men.
Two men dressed in all black.
“Where are you girls going?” the man says, his eyes gleaming.
I don’t respond as the two men break into a run.
I don’t think—I only scream as realization dawns on me.
He befriended us—he lured us here.
Evelyn and I run in the opposite direction, wishing,praying, for someone to hear our warbled screams. For someone to save us.
I choke back a sob when I feel hands on my arms.
I look at Evelyn with wild eyes as she, too, cries.
Dragging us—they drag us to a nondescript, white van with no windows.
No.
No.
“Philipe!” Evelyn’s scream curdles in my stomach.
“Help! Fire!” I manage to shriek before a pair of gloved hands find my mouth. From somewhere deep in my mind I recall that’s what you’re supposed to call out when in danger.
Fire fire fire fire fire!
I bite, kick, push... I fight.
With all of my strength.
It’s not enough.
No. This is not happening. We are in Paris. Men are not meant to kidnap girls to do whatever they wish to them.
This is the city of love.
This can’t be happening.
The men shove us into the back of the van and slam the door in our faces. I claw at the metal until my fingers begin to bleed. Behind me, four other girls sit whimpering in each corner.
“You know where to take them,” a voice says. “I’ll meet you there.”
The man. That voice. He orchestrated everything. I commit his face, his voice, to memory. I will find him—and I will kill him one day.
“Lily,” Evelyn whimpers, curling up next to me. “What the fuck is happening?” she whispers. She’s shaking. We’re both shaking.
