Sarah Scott Journalist

8 days before the meet

“What’s your name?” he asks my sister. Seeing him that close to her makes me want to rip his throat out. I can’t even try to help her. The grip the two other men have on me is unbreakable. I try to struggle out when he touches her face but it’s no use. How did a simple day trip turn into this?

I’ve heard stories about strange men that kidnap young girls. The thought makes me sick. My sister, at the age of eleven will be taken from me to a life with these men. I will be killed, leaving her behind – alone. I can’t let her down! Not after everything that has happened to her. A girl her age shouldn’t have to lose her parents when she was four. A girl like her should be playing with friends and should wake up each morning feeling loved and safe, not with strange men and a gun pointed to her brother’s head.

If I let them kill me and take her away, I will be failing her and the promise I made to our parents to keep her safe. It will be the anniversary of their death next week – seven years to the day. Aimee was just four. I was fifteen. Still just a kid forced to grow up too quickly. The worst thing is, is that when our parents perished in the fire that took our house, our memories perished with it. Everything we ever owned was turned into ash.

We were passed around care homes till eventually our auntie took us in. We had only met her a few times before that but we preferred her house to the grotty kid’s homes we were stuck in.

When I got a job and was able to save up some money, I told Aimee that I would take her on an unforgettable holiday when I had enough. I asked her where she wanted to go and she lifted her tiny finger up, closed her eyes and pointed to a place on the map – that place was here, Mexico.

I had promised her a wonderful holiday. The first holiday it would have been since our parents’ death and this is what happens. Aimee runs off chasing a stray cat and some guy takes it upon himself to lead her away from me. I saw all this happening so I immediately followed them and I started punching the man who was leading her away. Then the rest of this sick group start punching me until they took us away and we ended up here – wherever here is. I’m guessing some sort of warehouse.

Aimee is crying but the man is reassuring her it’s alright. He makes me wretch! The rest of the men are getting impatient so I know it’s only a matter of time before they kill me in front of her and take her away. They wouldn’t hurt her or at least I hope they wouldn’t, so if I do anything stupid it’s on me.

There are at least five men here and at least two of them are armed. There’s not a chance in hell I can take out all five of them, even if two of them weren’t carrying AK47s. What I need is one of their guns. Even if I could get one, the other armed man would just shoot me on the spot. No! Think! I need a strategy.

If I can grab and shoot one of the guards, then I could use his body as a shield till I have taken out the other armed guard. Then it’s just a matter of getting rid of the other three. One of them is standing by the door. One is talking to my sister and the other is holding my left shoulder down. The gun closest to me is currently resting against my back in the man’s front left pocket – he is holding down my right shoulder. I could grab the gun, shoot his foot and deal with the rest of them when it comes to it.  

“I think we’re done here,” the man says to my sister. He looks like a Mexican Russell Brand. Mexican Russell crosses the room and whispers something to the unarmed man standing by the door. My sister is looking at me, her eyes so full of fear. ‘This is it,’ I tell myself. ‘You’ve been a terrible brother. She doesn’t deserve you and now they’re going to take her away to a life not worth living.’

“I’m sorry,” I mouth over to her but that just seems to add more tears to her eyes.

“I love you,” I think she mouths back.

I hear the armed man to my right click a bullet in place. One that will soon be in my head. I can feel the cold metal graze my temple. The man holding my left shoulder down has moved away, probably to get out of the splashzone.

I’m not going down without a fight.

I grab the gun being held to my right temple and use his hand to fire a shot in the direction of Mexican Russell. It misses but hits the man standing by the door in the shoulder. He cowers to his hands and knees immediately. I then send my elbow into the stomach of the man holding my new gun. He is winded but I fire at his head, making him go still.

Another gunshot is fired but not from me. The other armed guard is firing at me. Clearly his aim is a little off because he has missed three possible shots. I don’t give him time to fire a fourth. I hold my gun up and squeeze the trigger making him fall to the floor. Dead.

Three down, two to go. I never knew my aim was so good.

The other two aren’t armed but are very angry. Mexican Russell who was speaking to my sister is putting his hand up.

“STOP!” he shouts. I hold my ground. There’s no reason for me not to shoot him in the head right now. “You’re making a mistake. You don’t want to mess with us.”

“A mistake?” I say. “YOU made the mistake by choosing me and my sister. Just hand her over and I promise I won’t hurt you. Please just hand her over.” Tears are running down my cheeks now.

My sister has tears running down her face as well but she isn’t making any noise. She has always been a silent crier. I learnt this a few months into our second children’s home. Mexican Russell gives the other man a look and the other man pulls a knife out. I start to back up, throwing threats at him but he isn’t after me… he’s moving towards Aimee.

“Put the gun down or I swear I will cut her throat,” he threatens. Aimee is sniffling now, trying to be strong but she shouldn’t have to be. She shouldn’t have been in this position in the first place. They want her alive. They won’t kill her. That is the only thought that makes me see through my decision to end his life. When his body hits the floor I hear Mexican Russell mumble something to him and then tut to me.

“That’s a real shame kid. I was just starting to like you as well,” he says. He raises his hands as if he is surrendering, but I ignore him and open my arms to let Aimee know it’s okay. She embraces my hug and squeezes me as hard as she can.

“Aimee you’re alright. I promise. You’re alright,” I reassure her. Her body is shaking but she is alive, sobbing on my shirt. I stare at Mexican Russell for a minute before pointing my gun to his head.

“Jack, please. I don’t want you to get into trouble. They’re not going to take you away are they?” she mumbles.

“No, of course not, Aimee. Don’t worry. I just want some answers,” I say. I adjust my gaze back to Russell for a moment and consider our options: 1) Shoot him in the head but upset Aimee and add to the trauma in her life. 2) Try to get some answers from him which will just end up with me shooting him in the head. 3) Leave here now and act like nothing ever happened and book the next flight home to England. Option three seems like the best one to me. I don’t want to get involved in something like this. I know how organisations like this work. Someone like me kills one of their men, and they hunt that someone down until justice is done.

I lower my gun. He’s not worth it.

My parents would be shocked at what I’ve just done. I have the blood of four people on my hands. I don’t need a fifth. I turn around to walk out the ‘warehouse’ but I don’t fully turn my back on him. I am surprised that he is not armed. As I am about to close the door on him and the events of the last twenty minutes, I hear him say something. “Good luck kid. You’re going to need it. I’d watch my back if I were you.” I don’t respond. I will be watching my back after what I have just done. It was either kill them or let them kill me and take away my sister. I had no choice. It was self-defence.

I lead Aimee out a door but this isn’t right, we can’t just walk away from something like this! Things are never that easy. When they first took us, we walked for what seemed like miles. I have no idea where we are. I can hear traffic which must mean there is a road nearby.

Aimee and I walk in silence till we reach a payphone located at the side of the road. She’s still unsettled after fifteen minutes of walking which makes my heart ache. I see a small field with some sort of fruit growing and take this opportunity to get rid of the gun which ended four lives today in my hand, maybe even more in someone else’s. I hide it in between two thick leaves which cover it nicely.

I take out my wallet and put 50 peso in the machine. I then suddenly have no idea who to call so I hang up the phone in a last minute panic. Aimee looks at me confused, but I then remember I have our hotel’s business card tucked away behind an old receipt. The number is there underneath the big bold logo so I dial again. When someone answers the phone I ask if they can send a taxi to us. When she asks where we are I have to stop and look round. It takes me a minute to identify some of the signs. When I describe the area around me she knows exactly where we are – along the main road that runs off into hundreds of pineapple plantations. The lady on the other end of the phone tells us the taxi will be about ten minutes. In that time Aimee and I buy some food from a local shop. Neither of us is hungry, we just don’t know what else to do.

The Mexican people don’t smile much. The shop assistant is an elderly woman who has a few missing teeth. She takes a shine to my sister and explains that they don’t see many younger people around these parts of the town. I pay her the 120 peso for our food and we sit on the step outside the shop in silence. We wait until our taxi arrives which is exactly ten minutes, like the woman said.

The forty minute taxi ride is silent. When we get back to our room Aimee takes a shower, and I sit on my freshly made bed and panic.

What the hell have I just done? I am a murderer! I am a horrible human being! I don’t deserve to sit here in this fancy hotel and eat their fancy food and swim in their fancy swimming pool. The people I murdered will never be able to do that. They are dead because of me! I ended their lives. It doesn’t matter who they were, I still killed them.

I am as bad as them!

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Read Chp.3 – BELLE