She heard the engine slowing down, figuring the ship was moving toward shore. Amid the roar of the splashing waves, she noticed the moon shone like a glowing lantern in the air through a small porthole window. She shuddered, recalling the last time Igor had said the ship was docked, he meant they would be unloading the girls. Marina refused to allow her mind to think about the horrors that awaited them.
She had become so thin she was able to slip out of her chains. Marina waited until she was confident her captors were sleeping. Earlier in the day she had overheard them talking about all the work they would have to do soon. Since then she wondered where they were and how the girls would be tortured. She pictured a dark, dirty place far from where anyone could hear their cries.
Marina strained her ears to hear the approaching footsteps or smell the stale whiskey of the night guard. Nothing.
Is this my chance? she asked herself. Images of Igor’s steely-eyed look of pure hatred assailed her. If she didn’t escape now, any day he would wreak a terrible vengeance on her for scarring him with his own knife. She could tell every time she saw him that inside his head he obsessed over finding the right moment to finish her off.
Was he there earlier?
She would have screamed if she had the energy. Unable to stand, Marina struggled to crawl away amid the branches and twigs. When she looked back at him, his head stirred and his arms moved.
When he opened his eyes, he shook his head in bewilderment and opened and shut his eyes. He spotted her and leaned forward to get a better view.
“Hi,” he said.
Terror filled Marina’s oval-shaped blue eyes. She backed away. When a large oak tree prevented her progress, she leaned on it, using all her strength to rise. She panicked when she looked back, for the young man had now risen to his feet.
“No! No!” Marina screamed. She wished she had something heavy to throw at him and then run for her life.
“Whatsa matta? Why’re you mad? I didn’ even touch you,” he said, staring at her while she struggled to remain standing and leaning on the tree. He approached her and lifted his hand like he wanted to shake hers.
Marina searched around furiously. She didn’t know how many people were there. She breathed so heavily she thought she would faint. What if she were trapped? She stumbled to the ground as she tried to run. Realizing escape was impossible, she started crying.
“Why’re you cryin’?” he asked, turning his head slightly in curiosity.
Marina didn’t hear him. She slumped on the ground and lay sobbing, her face closed in resignation, awaiting the worst. After awhile, she realized the man hadn’t come closer. She stopped sobbing and breathed heavily. Slowly, she looked up.
The man approached, extending his right hand while his left hand waved near his head. She noticed he had large hands for a man with a slight build.
“I’m Adam,” he said slowly. He had a blank, innocent expression in his large, round, brown eyes.
Marina studied him. He wore faded light jeans with a broken belt loop. His red T-shirt was half tucked in and half tucked out.