Sophia ducks down, crouching low on the ground against the thistles, the briars and thorns from the dried bushes scraping her skin, the hot sun beating down on her, making her sweat profusely. But, as she squats down, breasts pressed flat against the floor, she thinks, at least the dogs haven’t picked up on her trail yet.
They are several feet away, heading in a different direction, the men hooting and laughing. Yes, at least they haven’t picked her up... yet...
She looks up towards the trees. She’ll need to get up. Somewhere, or find a river or stream to hide in. Somewhere the dogs can’t track her smell. She...
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
The sudden blaring of the collar at her neck is as sudden to her as it is to the men and dogs several feet away. She smacks the collar, telling it to shut up, to stop blaring. But the constant wail at her neck only seems to grow louder.
She cries, throwing herself out of her hiding place. “There she is!” she hears one of the men say. “Go git’ her Guss!” she hears the words of another.
Her feet pound against the floor, her legs and body aching. This is new. This stupid sound that now shuts off suddenly as she runs, the dog’s teeth nipping at her heels. Their howls had lasted nothing at all when they’d been released, the animals bounding after her. Only her adrenaline and fear keeps her ahead of them.
It’s not fair, she thinks. Not fair! How is she expected to be able to escape with barriers and cameras and this cursed collar blaring in her ears when she is perfectly well hidden?!
She knows the answer, and the tears stream down her face. But she continues to run, a kind of stubbornness propelling her forward, the ache running up her legs ignored as her will for freedom pushes her forward. Some vain hope. Something so that...
A large body slams into her side, sending her sprawling. She screams as she topples over. She kicks out, kicking at the thing that slammed into her and feels sharp teeth bite into her heel. This sends a new pain rushing up her body and she arches her back screaming, suddenly feeling something else clip onto her shirt, pulling and dragging. She hears her shirt tear and turns as the dog holding her releases her, the yells from some man pulling the mutt back along with the other who was wearing at her shirt.
Turning over, she stumbles forward, crawling on her arms and knees in a frantic bid for freedom. Then the boot slams into the center of her spine, slamming her back into the floor. “You’re not going anywhere,” says a Latin American voice. One she recognizes from earlier.
Someone else is up at her throat, turning the collar. She claws at their hands, trying to push them away. But the man above her keeps her pinned, pressed against the floor. Her arms are quickly jerked back by some other unseen figure, held tight while her collar is turned and some numbers are pressed into the key pad. As the last number is locked into place there is a shrill whine, the collar tightening briefly as something locks in place.
She is turned around roughly and her mouth drops, eyes widening as her heart thunders monstrously in her chest, trying to beat its way out. No. Not him, she thinks. Not him!
She looks at the man’s dark face, his eyes hidden in shadow but lips twisting into a grin, long hair straddling his face.
“Looks like we have a winner!” the voice on the intercom blares. “And the winner is.... Espinosa’s team!”
She hears cursing from the other end of the field, men bellowing and the dogs echoing their sentiments. But she doesn’t hear them. She can only see the one before her, her heart nearly stopping at it.
“Looks like you lose chica,” says the man. “Too bad for you.”
*****
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