Jewel jerked her arm free. She sprinted toward the blacktop, but days in the shed with little food left her weak. A whimper left her mouth as footsteps pounded the pavement behind her. A hand grabbed her hair. She skidded to a stop, her scalp screaming. Or maybe that was her voice.

Tears streamed down her face as the man led her back to the truck by the hair. The second man was rolling the rear door up.

The driver said something in Spanish. Jewel didn’t understand the words, but the shove to the middle of her back got the message across. Resigned, she turned to the open back of the truck, reached for the bumper, and hauled herself up. The cargo area was dark, but moonlight slanted inside. Jewel squinted. Figures lined the sides of the truck. She counted four thin, dirty, and shivering girls.

The driver climbed up beside her. He gripped her arm and led her to the side of the truck. He handcuffed her to a metal pole affixed to the floor of the truck. Horror slid over her like a layer of greasy sweat. Jewel put her back to the wall and slid to the floor. The metal was cold against her bare skin. Dressed in only a tank top and short shorts, she shivered. She hugged her knees. Sobs bubbled into her throat.

The interior was dark, but whenever they passed under a light, a small amount of light filtered through vents high on the truck’s walls. She swallowed and hitched her breath. She turned to the girl next to her. Black eyes, hopeless and sunken, stared out of a gaunt face. The girl was about the same age as Jewel. Dark hair fell in a tangled mess to her chin.

“Do you know where we’re going?” Jewel asked.

The girl shook her head and lifted a bony shoulder. “Does it matter?”

Jewel thought that it did, but she kept her mouth shut. The truck lurched over a bump and made a turn. Jewel braced herself by grabbing the pipe behind her. The vehicle sped up. The ride smoothed out, and she guessed they had hit the interstate.

The girl next to her stared at the floor. In her eyes, Jewel saw no trace of the terror that filled her own body to the point of bursting. She scanned the rest of the girls. They slumped, bodies limp. Two slept, awkwardly hunched against their neighbors. No fight left in any of them. No will to live. Nothing. They were empty. The girl across from her stroked a very pregnant belly and hummed softly.

This will be me if I don’t get away.