Chapter 5

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Chapter 5: Forty Minute Mule

Quinn's Point of View

The events that took place over the past twenty four hours played back seamlessly on a loop in my head in vivid detail, even as I slept. The phone call. God, that damn phone call. Guero's dead. Those words will forever echo in my mind until the day that I die...which my might sooner than you think, my inner voice shot out inside my head. None of it seems real though. It all feels like some weird dream. Except deep down I know this is my new reality even in my dream.

I was in the middle of going through answering the phone call when I felt something or rather someone shaking my shoulder. "Quinn. Wake up." My eyes remained closed, keeping me in a permanent state of darkness. I'd just dropped the cell phone. We were running, only it wasn't men nipping at our heels it was wolves. "Quinn, baby, wake up." Teresa's voice continued and so did the shaking.

My eyes snapped open just as I was about to be bitten and I sat up with a start, feeling tears streaming down my cheeks. My hands were shaking, my heart was pounding. Teresa looked at me with her beautiful brown doe eyes. "You were crying in your sleep."

"I didn't even realize..." I let my voice trail off into nothing, looking around the dimly lit warehouse.

I had no idea what time it was, but the sun shining through the frosted block glass windows on the far wall told me maybe mid to late afternoon. You could see dust circling through the air in the tiny rays of light that fought their way through the frosted texture of the windows. Bird wings flapped together loudly overhead, startling me, making me look up. I sat up more and leaned against the chain link fence Teresa was leaning against. We were sitting on a ripped up old mattress. The whole chained off area was full of mattresses on the floor. Some were empty while others were occupied by women. A clothes line hung across the section and I watched two women hang their clothes up to dry.

The sound of a woman moaning made me glance to my left over into another section. A young woman, probably a little older than me was being shot up with heroine by a man. All of the sights and sounds bombarded me. I wanted to go home. I wanted my bed. My fluffy duvet. My horses. My brother. I wanted to rewind the last twenty some hours and re-record over everything that's happened, but that's not how life works. Most times, you don't get any do overs.

"How long was I asleep?" I asked, yawning, tucking my knees up under my chin to make myself seem smaller.

The smaller you are, the less chance you have of becoming a target. I learned that when I was little.

"You've been out all night and most of today. I slept on and off, some." Teresa sighed. "We need to get out of here."

"Agreed." I nodded, keeping my voice down. Everyone else was speaking in Spanish around us. They all seemed, okay, with being here. As if they had a choice in the matter. Maybe some did, but I'm sure others didn't. "How though? This place is guarded." I gestured to the men circling around the warehouse carrying automatic rifles.

"Stay here." Teresa patted my knee as she stood up.

I did as she said and watched as she crept slowly across the room towards a guard sitting at a table on the other side of the fence. "Excuse me? I need to speak with Camila." She said, before I even knew what was happening the man had grabbed his gun and jammed the butt of it into the fence and Teresa's face, sending her flying backwards onto the ground, knocking over some girls makeshift nightstand.

"Damn you, bitch! Don't mess up my shit!" She shouted, immediately on her knees picking up her things.

I was at Teresa's side within a second kneeling in front of her. "Are you okay?" I asked, horrified that this is where we were. Teresa flipped her raven hair out of her face and looked at me, revealing a bloody lip.

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