Trapped

“Look at those bitches go, holdin’ hands ‘n shit. That’s hot.”

Georgia halted, turned around. “Fuck you, Meadow.”

“You wish, mama. Maybe when you come back, I give you a chance.” He added, “If you come back.”

Meadow and Tom laughed. Tyrone stayed silent.

“Come on.” Cindy pulled at Georgia. She felt like she was about to burst. “We gotta hurry.”

Georgia followed. It became very dark, very fast, but Cindy forced her fear back, her whole body shaking with need. As soon as she was out of the boys’ sight she yanked down her sweat pants and underwear and squatted.

“Geez, gimme a little warning,” Georgia said, stepping away.

Cindy urinated, her relief so beautiful it was almost as good as getting high. The spray splashed against the leaves, droplets landing on her gym shoes, but she didn’t care. She closed her eyes and sighed, deeply, almost enjoying the cool night air on her naked butt.

Less than a dozen feet away, something flashed.

What’s that?

Cindy wondered if it was Sara, with the flashlight. Or maybe Martin.

But they’d gone in the other direction.

Cindy continued to watch, waiting for the light to flash again.

“I think I see someone in the woods,” Georgia said softly.

Cindy clenched. Her arms and legs broke out in gooseflesh. “That’s not funny.”

“I’m serious.”

Cindy couldn’t tell if the girl was kidding or not. Georgia was a strange one, and she had a mean streak.

“Where?” Cindy whispered.

“Oh, God.” Georgia’s eyes got wide, staring at something over Cindy’s shoulder. “He’s right behind you.”

Cindy jerked upright, cutting off the stream and tugging up her pants. She spun around, looking where Georgia was looking.

Nothing there.

Backing up, Cindy knocked into Georgia, who was quivering with laughter.

It was just a dumb joke.

Cindy made a fist and smacked Georgia on the shoulder. Not hard, but enough to show this wasn’t funny. “You ass,” she hissed. “You freaking scared me.”

Georgia smiled. “Scared the piss out of you?”

Cindy wanted to be mad, but a giggle came out. Aside from Tyrone, Cindy wasn’t really friends with anyone at the Center. Georgia wasn’t really friend material, and they wouldn’t be buddies out in the Real World, but at the moment it felt pretty good to share a laugh.

“Hey,” Georgia whispered, leaning closer. “Want to scare those dicks?”

She jerked her thumb in the direction of the camp. Cindy nodded. Frightening the boys was less than they deserved, but it was a good start.

“How?”

Georgia reached into her pocket, and for a fantastic moment Cindy hoped Georgia was carrying, that she was taking out a pipe and they’d smoke some ice right now. But the fantasy died when Georgia pulled some ketchup packets from her jeans. How could she have gotten meth anyway? Cindy’d been at the Center for four months, and security was tighter there than it was in rehab.

Besides, Cindy thought, I’m done with that shit.

Cindy had been clean for months, and wanted to stay clean for the rest of her life. Maybe there would even come a day when she didn’t think about meth every few minutes. That would be nice.

“We gonna throw ketchup at them?”

Georgia shook her head. “I took these from the fridge, hoping I’d get a chance to use them. I squirt it all over my face and shirt like blood, coming running out of the woods screaming, and fall right in front of those jerks. Then you come up from behind and yell and grab them. They’ll shit squirrels.”

Cindy nodded, liking this idea. She especially wanted to freak out that tool, Meadow.

“What do I yell?”

Georgia shrugged. “I dunno. Boo?”

“Boo is lame.”

“You’ll think of something. Help me spread this shit on.”

The ketchup was warm, and smelled good. For dinner they cooked hot dogs over the fire, but Cindy declined, saying she was still ill from the boat to avoid admitting the real reason. Now her stomach rumbled at the scent. Cindy smeared some ketchup on Georgia’s neck, then licked her finger. Not bad. Maybe there were hotdogs left. Maybe Tyrone was hungry, too, and he could roast one for her.

Stupid. He watched me barf. He’s not interested.

But he did give me his marshmallows…

Georgia stopped applying ketchup to her face and stared at Cindy in a funny way.

No, not at her. Behind her.

“Lemme guess,” Cindy said, still sucking her finger. “Some creepy guy behind me again?”

Georgia opened her mouth, but no words came out. She nodded, her head bobbing up and down rapidly.

“I’m not falling for that shit twice, Georgia. It wasn’t funny the first time.”

Georgia’s lips began to tremble, her face crinkling in a prelude to a scream. Cindy had no idea Georgia was such a good actress. She hadn’t been this good the previous time.

And for that very reason, Cindy suddenly understood this wasn’t acting. Georgia really was seeing something behind her, and she really was terrified.

Cindy didn’t want to look. The fear crawled over her like ants, and her legs felt like they weighed a thousand pounds. Georgia had lost all color now, and she was whimpering like a puppy.

Look. You have to look. Just do it.

Eyes wide, mouth dry, knees knocking together, Cindy slowly turned around, expecting to see some horrible ghoul with huge teeth grinning inches from her face.

She looked.

There was nothing. There was nothing there at all.

Cindy spun, pissed off she fell for the same trick twice, ready to give Georgia another cuff on the shoulder.

But Georgia was gone.

Sara frantically pushed against the person pinning her legs. She knew judo. Hell, she taught her kids basic self-defense at the Center. But with a baby strapped to her chest—a baby that was now squirming and crying—all Sara could do was push.

She felt breasts beneath her palms, a neck and chin, and higher up, closely-cropped hair.

“Laneesha?”

“Sara!” The teen’s breath was warm on Sara’s face, and then she was rolling off. “Couldn’t find my way back, so I ran toward the flashlight. What happen to it?”

Sara tried to get her breathing under control. The darkness screamed at her, making her voice sound hollow, far away. “It… flew into the woods.”

“Shit. Dark as hell out here. Feels like we got swallowed up by somethin’.”

Sara sat up, heart hammering, squinting into the blackness all around them. “It’s a Maglite.” She forced herself to swallow, her fingers absently digging into one of the sling’s pockets and finding the pacifier, which she popped into Jack’s mouth. “Those things don’t switch off accidentally. It probably rolled under some leaves so we can’t see it.”

“So how we find it?”

“Couldn’t have gone far. You stay where you are, keep talking to me. I’ll go around you and feel for it. Can you hold Jack?”

“Yeah.”

Sara pulled him out of his sling, handing him carefully over to Laneesha. Without him next to her belly, Sara