Page 10 of Romania
“What is this?” Cal suddenly demanded. He got hit in the back of the head and let out a pained sound.
“Quiet.”
Another masked man opened the doors to the bigger container and waited for us to enter. I jolted when the doors slammed behind us and spun to see we were trapped once more.
“Rommy,” Cal called.
Turning, I gaped at the number of people huddled at the other end. We could only see them because of the dim torch hanging from the ceiling.
There were a few scattered blankets, but that was about it.
Moving forward, I asked, “Are you all from Australia?”
Some called out New South Wales, others Tasmania, and Queensland, Brisbane, Western Australia… all over the country.
We must have been the last to be picked up.
My stomach tightened at all the fearful gazes.
“Is there a plan?” I asked. “What happens if we need food or the toilet?”
A woman told us, “They take us to the bathroom, but we’re only allowed to use the toilet and we’re heavily guarded.”
“Not everyone goes at the same time,” another woman said. “They take us in smaller groups.”
A guy shifted on his feet as he said, “Minimal food and water so far. Enough to keep us in the shape we’re in.”
“I heard them talking about our buyers,” another new woman explained as she rubbed her hands nervously together.
The guy next to her nodded. “We were taken to be sold off to the highest bidder unless we already have someone who’s willing to pay a large amount up front.”
What the fuck?
Buyers?
People still did that?
How did they get away with shit like this?
Goddamn it.
No. I had to stay calm. I had to think.
“Okay. Like I said, we’ll just have to wait for the right time to get us out of this situation. No one will be sold if I have anything to do with it,” I said.
“Are you a cop?” someone called.
Shaking my head, I shrugged. “Just a person who’s had training.”
Cal made a grunted noise. “In the other container, you were just as confident we’ll get out of this. How can you be so sure? Even if you can fight, there are more of them than there are of us. I know self-defence and can throw a punch, but I doubt everyone does.”
So many replied that they didn’t know how to fight. But there were a few hopefuls that could help. Jenny was also on that list because she was an ex-police officer.
“What do you know?” Cal asked when everyone had settled down.
“I’ve been trained in all martial arts. Taught how to use many types of guns and worked with knives.”
“Who are you?” another person called.
