1 Chapter 1 - Adria the Crazy Dog

At first glance, the compound is nothing more than a sprawling mass of rubble overtaken by nature's wiliness, expanding over a vast majority of the downtown wilderness where the sketchier, harsher side of society resided. It was once a parking lot adjacent to the largest shopping mall in the city – but then the economy had crashed and so had the entire neighbourhood. It had been abandoned within a week and the landowner had wanted nothing with it, considering the location, so he left it to rot.

No one expected to find anything within. They were sorely mistaken. Adria had been fooled too, just as every other citizen, because inside the weathered walls something insidious hid, something filled with evil and hatred and pain. The abandoned park lot on Avenue Street belonged to a street gang, one very mean, very violent, very vindicative street gang. Their roots were deeply sunk into the city, they had no qualms about the human trafficking operation they run in plain sight.

She knew that bastard was a rat!

Her sister never did believe Adria and her endless stream of disapproval for dear Luca, her husband. Maggie always thought she had a personal grudge (Adria had been the only person to stand up in church to protest their marriage) but she really hadn't had one then. It was personal now. The rat had landed her, poor, normal Adria in a damp, cold, soggy room that was barely two feet wide, dressed in her best clothes (for their parents' death anniversary). The same god damned clothes she'd worn for about two weeks and 3 days.

The problem was not that Adria had been shipped off as collateral, because Adria was a big girl with big girl pants, and she would make them pay. Eventually.

The problem was in fact that the scum had put his only child forth as collateral, and the only saving grace was the lucky coincidence that Adria had picked him from preschool that day and not her sister. Maggie would not survive a day. It was about a week since they had pried him from her hands though. They'd taken Victor from her despite his shrieks and the momentary madness that had made it neigh impossible for anyone to get within ten feet of her – she tended to jump on them and bite their ears off.

But Adria must be primed for selling.

And little Victor prepped to be sold to a rich family.

Adria's guts twisted; the stale bread she'd shoved last night churned.

She still could not wrap her head around it, but the second Adria was out she would rip Lucas open with her teeth.

The heavy sliding door opened. They installed them to every girl's room to make it easier for the patrons to slip in and out. Adria ducked under the broken table, merely wood stacked together in a corner, as heavy boots slipped in. They had moved her, after that first night they took Victor, she took out a customer's eye with the brooch he had pinned to his stripped suit. The fucker deserved that merely on principle.

They said she was rabid.

They would have killed her too, but for whatever reason they hadn't. Instead, they moved her from the quarters to a ghost part of the lot that had once been an open floor office. Tucked her away in a corner. The mad banshee was bad for business, they said.

Another pair of shoes became visible to Adria, the second person lighter, gentler, softer with his steps.

The first person was the compound boss, he was a heavier set man who preferred boots and he dragged his feet so any soul within a mile could tell he was coming. A fear tactic. It had the other girls cramming up like broken clocks.

Who was the second man? His oxfords were shiny, well kept, and stood out bizarrely in the rubbish on the floor, a wrapper paper stuck to one hill. The man shook his foot aggressively, cursing boorishly with a mellow voice. So, someone higher up the chain of command. The pair of oxfords paced the room, the swish, swish of his clothes loud in the quiet.

"How is the operation proceeding?"

A cool, heavily accented voice asked. It was hard to distinguish exactly which country, Adria had a rough guess it was something European. The pacing stopped. Fat Rick, the man who run the compound with an iron fist sounded meek and small, for once his heavy bearing not speaking for him.

"As you said, but…"

"Cold feet Ricky boy?"

"We're supposed to send ten a week, but we barely get two a month. His going to want answers," Fat Rick said.

The pacing resumed, a foot struck a dirty, cracked vase and shattered it. More swearing filled the room, in a foreign language. Adria breathed in slowly, pressing her body to the wood. The man sighed, long and deep. Adria peeked just a bit, getting only Fat Rick's profile where sweat pooled at the back of his bald head and slid down in rivulets. Fat Rick had a sweating tick that was worse than the gatekeeper's loose bowel problem.

"It doesn't matter."

The shiny shoes moved closer to her hiding spot; Adria pushed back as far as possible. A weight dropped on the wood, it pressed harder into her skin until it became difficult to breath. The oxfords hovered there, in her face.

"He'll start asking questions soon. The only reason he even allowed us to run solo is because we promised him fresh blood. But if he finds out we went against his orders…"

"Ricky do me a favour and shut up. It doesn't matter."

Ricky's pacing was more sedated, his feet shuffling awkwardly like a dammed penguin, louder too. Adria breathed easier; the noise would cover her.

"His going to ask for the annual report in a week – "

"We'll have a showcase. For the girls."

All movement stilled.

"Are you insane? Aren't we supposed to keep this under wraps?"

"I have a plan. He'll walk in next week, but he won't walk out."

"His spawn will inherit everything – "

"Don't you worry about."

The smell of cigarette stifled the room, Adria held back a cough through pure will.

"He is your nephew."

"No, not for long."

The man stubbed the cigarette out, too close to her head for comfort, jumped off and sauntered out. Fat Ricky stayed behind, heaved a deep breath, and stomped out too.

Adria did not dare come out just yet.

This was a chance. The perfect chance. To leave the compound you had to have a car because there was nothing but wilderness and an empty expanse for several hundred miles. Many girls had tried to escape only to be brought back screaming and crying.

Adria would not get another opportunity like this.

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