Murderville (10 page)

Liberty shook her head and tried to keep the disgust from showing on her face. Trixie was so feminine and beautiful that no one would ever guess that she was a transsexual. After years of being forced to live her life as a woman, Trixie now embraced it. “If I have to be a bitch, I’mma be the baddest bitch that has ever done it,” she said.

“I’m just so sick of this. Every day it’s the same thing . . . same bullshit . . . different men. I haven’t figured out how yet, but the first chance I get, I’m leaving. I’m running as far as my feet will carry me,” Liberty said honestly.

“That’s what your little stash is for?” Trixie asked.

Liberty looked at Trixie in surprise as her brow lowered instantly. “How do you know about that?” she asked.

“Girl, please . . . Juan done sampled a little bit of this too,” Trixie said.

“Juan?” Liberty shot back in disbelief.

“Juan, bitch,” Trixie confirmed. “I told you these men be out here loving them some Ms. Trixie, baby!” She smiled and took a long drag of her cigarette before she continued. “He knows you keep some paper put up in his bathroom, and he mentioned it to me one night when we were hooking up. You know how that pillow talk shit goes,” Trixie stated as she tapped the ashes that had accumulated on the tip of her cigarette, sending them flying into the sky. She noticed Liberty’s disposition had gone sour, and she waved her hand dismissively. “Fix your face, mami. I didn’t tell anyone else about it. Your secret is safe with me, Lib. You’re my girl. It’s not like you’re stacking big paper, babes. Just a little nest egg in case you’re able to break free. I respect it. You can trust me. I wouldn’t play you like that. You’re my bitch, Liberty . . . honestly, when you go I’m going with you. I wouldn’t last a day without you out here with me. You keep me sane bitch!” Trixie stated.

Before Liberty could respond one of the ‘shepherds’ pulled up and all of the ‘sheep’ made their way to the van. The men who ran the operation were anonymous. It was a system of sexual enslavement that was run with such precision that they could never be caught. Even if one of the girls managed to escape she would never be able to name her captors. Every worker was referred to as shepherd and the working girls were the flock. After they were loaded into the back of the windowless freight van, they rode dismally back to the warehouse.

Once the girls arrived they were lined up one-by-one and the profit from the night’s activities was quickly collected by the shepherds. Liberty stood unflinchingly next to Trixie. They had become accustomed to the routine. Liberty was still feeling the effects of her high and wanted nothing more than to be escorted to her cot so that she could fall into a comfortable sleep. Her lazy neck caused her head to wobble loosely as she fought the nod she was falling into. Trixie held onto her gently, discreetly giving her a shoulder to lean on. Liberty could feel herself drooling as her mouth fell open, but nothing could stop the drowsy haze she was stuck in.

As the shepherd made his way down the line he stopped at the young girl who stood to Liberty’s left, causing her to straighten her back in attention and force her eyes to stay open.

The girl timidly handed over the money she had made that night. Four crumpled twenty-dollar bills were all that she had in her hand. Knowing that girl was new to the operation, Liberty instantly felt sorry for her.

“Let me ask you something? You speak English, no?” the shepherd asked.

The girl nodded fearfully.

“So you understood me when I said you were to bring back a minimum of $500?” he asked.

“I . . . I tried,” the girl stuttered.

The shepherd acted as if he was going to walk away from her. “You tried,” he mumbled as he rubbed his goatee. Liberty closed her eyes knowing that it would have been better for the girl to say nothing at all. The man turned suddenly on his heel and without warning blew a hole through the girl’s head. Liberty felt the blood splatter onto her face and she stood frozen, her heart beating like a drum as she heard the girl’s body hit the floor. Too afraid to look beside her, Liberty found a spot on the dirty wall in front of her and kept her eyes there. Tears fell down her eyes and mixed with the blood as it created crimson trails of sorrow on her cheeks.
I have to get out of here. It’s only a matter of time before that girl on the floor becomes me,
she thought. Trixie squeezed Liberty’s hand, but neither of them spoke a word.

“Clean this bitch up,” the man ordered one of the other men. “And put the rest of them in their cages. Nobody eats tonight. Everybody meets quota . . . no exceptions . . . and until everyone does so, no one will be fed!”

As soon as Liberty was inside her closet-sized room she fell to her knees while frantically wiping the blood off her face. She knew that she could not take much more of this. It was only a matter of time before she would lose herself in this world. Her breaking point was nearing, and as she curled up on her cot she closed her eyes as the heroin lulled her back into a restless sleep.

EIGHT

“
GET UP! EVERYBODY OUT OF BED
!”

Liberty heard the voices of the shepherds on the other side of the steel door as they walked throughout the warehouse waking the girls. Liberty was still shaken from the events that had taken place the night before. It wasn’t the first dead body she had seen. Over the years she had witnessed many gruesome things, but something about feeling the girl’s blood on her face set off an intense fear within her. Anxious and weary, she was overwhelmed. As she opened her eyes, she instantly felt the itch to use. The crawling sensation that crept over her body caused her to dig her nails into her skin. She was on E and definitely needed a pick me up. The tumbling nausea building in her stomach wasn’t from a lack of food but from a lack of heroin. She was jonesin’ so bad that she could barely control her bowels. The shepherds kept the girls doped up most days, but on occasion they would make them go without the drug just to show their dominance. Liberty hated those days. The type of pain that she experienced from withdrawal was unbearable and she would do anything to feed her habit. She prayed that today was not one of those days. Liberty silently wondered why she was being disturbed. The girls never worked the boulevard in the daytime. They were creatures of the night so to be forced out of bed aroused Liberty’s suspicion. The locks clicked on her door and she was wrangled out into the hallway, forced into a moving line with the other girls. She noticed Trixie ahead of her and she pushed her way to the front until she was directly behind her girl.

“What is going on?” Liberty whispered.

“What do you mean? This is the one day every year that we have a chance of getting out of here. They are choosing new girls to work the brothels today. How did you forget that?” Trixie asked.

Mixed emotions filled Liberty. She knew not to get her hopes up. Year after year she had been overlooked and bypassed. It only made her bitter to know that other chicks were moving up in the ranks while she was left to rot.

“This is a waste of time,” she shot back with an attitude.

“Maybe, but at least you get to wash your ass for the occasion,” Trixie stated. She knew that she would never be one of the girls to be handpicked for the brothels . . . she would never be more than a street walker. Lack of beauty was not the issue for Trixie because she was more than gorgeous. Her flawless looks rivaled those of any world-class super-model. It was the tool between her legs that kept her at the bottom, but she still welcomed the selection process . . . using it for what it was, a chance to take a real shower. Something as simple as that was a luxury.

They were herded into a large communal bathroom and one-by-one, pushed into the shower stalls. They stood still, arms outstretched as soapy water was poured over their heads and the workers washed them from head to toe with a coarse sponge. Like livestock they were processed until they were standing side by side in only their undergarments, shivering, as wind filled the drafty warehouse.

The doors were opened as two black limousines pulled inside. Liberty already knew who sat behind the tinted windows. They had only had one conversation, but over the years she had seen her come and go, each time choosing a few new girls but always leaving Liberty behind. The door opened and all that could be seen was the six-inch, red-bottom heel that emerged from the car. Finally Abia stepped out, looking more glamorous than ever before in a short mink jacket and a mini-dress that had come straight off the runway. Her eyes flew down the line quickly as she immediately pointed out a couple girls that appeared valuable. Her beauty was so intimidating that even the most arrogant of the streetwalkers became unsure. Those who covered themselves were instantly written off Abia’s list of hopefuls. There was nothing she could do with an insecure young girl . . . she needed the sharks . . . the arrogant ones out of the bunch who were well-versed in the business of sex. She only wanted the bad bitches in her brothels because that’s what it took to play the game at her level.

Liberty stood indifferent as she rolled her eyes slightly as Abia passed her. Liberty had been through this process many times before and her nerves were non-existent. As Abia was about to move onto the next girl, Liberty sucked her teeth causing Abia to halt mid-step. She looked sharply at Liberty and returned to stand directly in front of her. She smirked slightly, sensing a change in Liberty. Abia had purposefully bypassed Liberty over the years because she was soft. Liberty hadn’t been ready. Her emotions had always betrayed her sensitive heart, but as Abia stood before her, this time she sensed a change. The streets had finally accomplished the act of hardening Liberty.

“I want her,” Abia said as Liberty looked at her in shock. Abia kept it moving down the line as she chose more girls. Just as quickly as she had come she left.

“She picked me,” Liberty whispered. She turned to Trixie in disbelief, but when she noticed the dismal look on her friend’s face she realized what that meant. For the first time in eight years they were about to be split up. The devastation on Trixie’s face caused Liberty’s lip to tremble from grief as her heart broke in half. She hadn’t felt this in so long, and as she gripped Trixie’s hand her thoughts drifted to A’shai. She had thought of him often during her time on the streets but she always forced him to the back of her mind because she knew that she would never see him again. It was easier to just not think of him at all. A’shai had been her first love and best friend, but Trixie had been her only friend since him. She loved Trixie with all of her heart. They were brought together by circumstance and now they were being forced apart by a system that ranked Liberty higher simply because she was a real woman. She felt the same feeling of loss and the familiar hurt filled her as she looked Trixie in the eyes.

“I’m getting out of here, Lib. I’m not staying here without you,” Trixie whispered as she shook her head from side-to-side. As Liberty was pulled from the line, she reached for Trixie.

“No, I’m not leaving her here!” she protested as she lunged away from the men while crying hysterically. Flashbacks of being torn away from A’shai ran through her mind. It felt as if she were reliving the same hell all over again. As Liberty was dragged towards the second awaiting limo all eyes were on her as the shepherds attempted to calm her down. Amidst the chaos Trixie grabbed one of the AK-47’s from one of the men and began firing. The hair trigger caused bullets to fly as everyone ducked for cover. Trixie ran full speed towards the exit and out of instinct, Liberty snatched away from the men and took off after her. The screams of the other girls and the array of gunfire caused everyone to panic. It was the chance of a lifetime . . . the chance to flee and every girl took the opportunity. Scantily clad women and men ran in every direction, causing Liberty to lose sight of Trixie.

“Trix! Trixie!” Liberty called out into the crowd. She didn’t see her girl, but she had to keep running. She was already too far gone to turn back now. Liberty ran in the opposite direction of the crowd, while covering herself as best as she could. It was broad daylight outside and she knew that she wouldn’t get very far without any clothing. Once she was a few blocks away she ran down a deserted alley and cowered behind a dumpster. She would have to wait until nightfall before she could run any further. In the meantime she looked up and down skid row, making herself aware of her surroundings just in case she needed to find a quick escape.

Liberty burst into the corner store, causing a scene, as she pushed past the customers at the counter. She knocked on the bulletproof glass causing Juan to look at her like she was crazy.

“Liberty? What the . . . ?”

“I need the key . . . the key, Juan, please,” she said desperately as she looked around nervously. She knew that she was taking a risk by coming to collect her stash, but without it she would be stuck. She had gone all day on E, and her body was craving a fix so badly that every part of her ached. He passed her the key and watched as she frantically headed to the bathroom. Once inside she locked the door and rushed to remove the back from the porcelain toilet, but when she looked inside and saw nothing but clear water the contents of her stomach came up. The money was gone and although it had not been much, it was all she had to get by. There was only one other person who knew where her money was stashed.

I trusted her,
Liberty thought, knowing that Trixie had gotten to the money first. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. “Just a minute!” she called through the door.

“It’s Juan!”

Liberty unlocked the door, and he opened it slightly. “I’ve got some clothes for you. Nothing fancy . . . just some sweats,” he said.

“Did Trixie come here?” she asked as tears fell down her cheeks.

“I don’t know. My shift just started not too long ago,” Juan said. “You need some help a’ something?”

“No . . . the clothes are enough . . . thank you.” Her voice cracked as she spoke and he wanted to press the issue, but decided that he didn’t want to become involved in whatever problem she had gotten herself into.