Prey To The Children

Prey To The Children
by
Lady Willow hawk

You could tell something was wrong by the way that Sahra stood, staring out the window, as if she was undecided what to do. She knew if she involved the police it would be a disaster. Suddenly she knew what she must do. It was a mother's instinct, she had to find her child and she had to do it alone or she would never see her baby again. She quickly threw some clothes into her suitcase and made a mad dash for the bus station.

Outside the station, the bus was ready to leave as she pushed the sliding doors out of her way and she slipped through them. She dumped her baggage beside the bus as she ransacked through her purse as the bus driver impatiently waited. She hadn't found her wallet in her purse and panic began to squirm in her belly. She had been so consumed with what she was planning to do, that she had forgotten all about money for her ride clear across to the other side of town. Sahra had no bills at all, and she was trying to gather all the change that was at the bottom of her bag. She was holding the handful of change she had found and was wondering if she could ask the bus driver to trust her for the rest, when she found another coin that made up the exact fair. She didn't want to think of how she was getting back home, she was only thinking of her child. She struggled with her baggage as she boarded the bus.

The bus sped away but, not as fast as she would have liked. As she looked out the window, fields sparkled in the early morning dew, and long un-baked loaves of cloud piled above the hills in the chilled skies of late October. In front of her, a man sat whose neck looked like it was composed of diced raw beef and he was reading a newspaper. Sahra was so exhausted physically and mentally that she was fighting off sleep that wanted to protect her. She had to stay alert so that she wouldn't miss her stop and when the bus pulled into the terminal, she realized the trip had taken longer than she expected. She left her baggage at the terminal locker and she hurried uphill, past a parking lot that resembled a squat gray helter - skelter full of darkness.

She was alone in this dead city with only her wits and instincts to guide her and they both needed to be sharp. Walking for what seemed like hours, she rushed pass a library with it's green stone skullcap. Further on pillars held up an abandoned section of highway, with both ends in the air, with the concrete already falling to ruin. Traffic waited at the lights, engines pounding like jack hammers.
As she crossed to the pillars, she saw that she was in view of the house that held her child. It fit the exact description the ransom note had mentioned. Her heart began to beat double time in her chest, as fear took over her, then replaced by blind anger. The house was a plain house, with a pair of bay windows one on top of the other. The kind of house that would go un - noticed in the midst of thousand of terraces, if it had been taken care of. Whatever colour it had been originally, it looked like the inside back of a fireplace now. Above the slick, greasy, black tiles of the roof, the uneven chimney pots were shattered to dust. Sahra had a foreboding feeling about this house, but she had to forge ahead.

A bald doll with it's head and limbs twisted back - to -front stared at her from a socket and one eye. She was closely watching the tattered curtains to see if they moved, but then she noticed all the garbage all around her: a driving rearview mirror buried in the ground, a mosaic of shattered glass, a soddened jacket, a woman's dress half rotted away, and a greenish length of copper pipe. She bent down and picked it up for reassurance just in case she needed it and the way Sahra felt, she was sure she would need it.

She stepped through the door less house and into a hallway and fear gripped at her throat instantly. Was her daughter there or was this a hoax? The hand written note said that her child would be there, but she heard and saw no one. She began to get a sinking feeling in her gut. Nevertheless, she found herself creeping along the hall. She began to walk quickly through the ground floor rooms which were bare except for the mattresses on the floor. Lumps of stuffing protruded from the mattresses that looked like worms. As she passed the last room on the ground floor, she noticed a newspaper on the arm of a chair. When she peered at the paper she couldn't believe the date. So she hadn't been mistaken, it was yesterday's paper. So the kidnappers had been here as of yesterday, and with any luck and a mother's love, they still would be. She didn't know how she would react when she confronted them, she only hoped she could think fast and out smart them. She couldn't fathom the conditions in which they had forced children to live and what other horrible acts they had done. She stormed out of the room; it was all she could do in her helpless fury.

She tramped up the stairs and a few crooked pieces of carpet squelched underfoot; dark moisture welled up around her shoes and she lost her footing almost at once. Her hand scraped the wall, and it felt fattened and hairy, which was mold and mildew. She glanced into the rooms and those too were filled with mattresses and the house was decaying in ruins and evily empty. They had promised that her child would be there, so why was she surprised that the kidnappers lied to her.
Suddenly, from deep within the bowels of the house, Sahra heard the sobs of a child. Without hesitation she ran to the cellar door. Not watching, but running with all the strength and a fury of a mother bear, Sahra fell head first down the cellar steps. As she laid there for several minutes, coming in and out of darkness, she heard the sobs again. She had to get her bearings back so she could think straight. The odour of mold and dampness filled her nostrils to the point that she could hardly breath and it made her physically ill.

As she looked up, there in the shadow of the corner was a small figure whimpering and shying away like a frightened animal. Sahra rushed toward the tiny shape but, stepped back immediately when the little form bared it's teeth. She was appalled at what they had done to this child. She called out to the child by her daughter's name, Tasha. She knew she had to reach this child and prayed with all of her heart and soul that the child would answer her and that it would be her little girl. Several minutes passed by that felt like a life time and still no answer. She lunged forward and grabbed for the child, while all the time the child was fighting off what it thought was an attack, but the small frame in front of Sahra was no match. When Sahra finally held the child to her breast, she knew it was her daughter. As she whispered and hushed the little girl and told her she was mommy, Tasha held on to Sahra's neck with all her might. Instantly the bond was there and they both knew they were safe now. They could both go home and be together again.

Sarha climb the cellar stairs as fast as she could while holding Tasha close to her. She ran for three city blocks, until she found a neighbourhood that looked safe and where she nearly beat down a resident's door screaming for help. The police were called right away and Tasha was taken to the hospital and held for observations and tests over night. Sahra never left Tasha's bedside and when the doctor said her daughter could go home the next day, Sahra broke down and wept. The doctor told her that medically her daughter was fine, but the emotional damage that was done would take time to reverse and heal.

The kidnaping ring had escaped once again and the police were working full force to capture them. But until then, other children would be at the mercy of those animals. Sahra, with the help of the police department started an organization, so that they could find those savaged beasts that preyed on children, with hope that another child would never fall into the hands of evil again.
The End