First, there was only a black void of nothing, but soon, an aching pain arose in his skull. As the pain increased, Daniel regained consciousness in a dank, rusty-brown metal cell chained to the wall. As he awoke, he was drowsy, disoriented by the pain in his skull, and his vision was blurry. However, little by little, his senses returned to him, allowing him to gaze upon the faces of his two cellmates.

  He saw Pyunma, a dark-skinned African man of similar age with a shaved hairstyle. And chained to his right was Margret, an Irish woman with fair skin and short orange straight hair, again of similar age, perhaps one or two years younger.

  “Who are you two? And where am I?" Daniel asked.

  "A slave shipment. Or, as I like to call it, hell on earth," Pyunma said.

  “Trafficking?”

  Pyunma nodded.

  "Where are we heading?"

  "N-not sure exactly, but we heard places like Japan, China, and the Middle East," Margret said, swallowing.

  Daniel immediately began surveying his options for escape. He hastily scanned the cell for a key or any means of opening his cuffs. He found none except for simply breaking them with his super strength. But committing to the option would reveal his secret to his new friends and scores of gangsters. However, there was no alternative, at least not one he could see. His armor was far away in his closet. And if they moved beyond American waters, he would have to reveal it anyway to save himself and the other victims.

  Daniel took a deep breath."No choice. Listen, I'm getting us out of here, but please don't freak out."

  Daniel went to break his chains with his super strength, pulling his arms away from each other. But he failed to summon the power. He tried again repeatedly but fell flat just as many times.

  He did it again and again, growing visibly more frustrated. And as he did, Margret and Pyunma exchanged glances that said more than words, watching his attempts.

  “Why isn’t this working?” Daniel shouted angrily.

  "Friend, did they get you walking out of a psychiatrist somewhere?" Pyunma asked.

  The cell doors opened, and Daniel’s eyes fixed on their captors, James with his gangsters. They quickly entered the cell, and one of his gangsters pointed toward Daniel.

  "Boss, this is the guy. Some of my people caught him by homeless heights. From what they described, he's pretty tough."

  "Is that so? Did you find any identification on him? I don't want people looking into our business affairs," James said.

  "N-no, he didn't have a wallet or anything."

  "We’ll have to risk it then. We're behind schedule and have a quota.” James stooped down to Daniel. “Besides, junior, if you are that strong. Our buyers might pay extra."

  Daniel spat at James, hitting the sleeve of his business suit. James retaliated with a slap to Daniel's face, and he ripped off a metal pipe from the wall, preparing to beat Daniel to death. But as Margaret let out a blood-curdling scream, he stopped before landing the first blow.

  "No. We have a quota to make, so I must keep the merchandise intact.” James took a deep breath, cracking his neck and pointing at Daniel. “But one thing, this one doesn't get food until I say so."

  James dropped the pipe, and he and his gangsters left the cell, locking the door.

  ***

  Daniel scanned the cell block, peeking through the bars of his prison. Looking around the gunmetal grey chamber, he saw his fellow slaves, hundreds of people from every background. He could estimate each cell contained three or four occupants similar to his. But that begged the question. If they were on a slaver vessel ready for transport to a foreign land, which one could house so many victims?

  From what he saw, they weren’t in any land vehicle, or at least not one he was familiar with. The space was too vast and ill-made for any truck or carrier he knew of. And they couldn’t have been on a ship either. The room wasn’t bobbing and weaving like it would be on the sea. Nor did he smell salt water in the air. So, the only option left was an airplane, but which one and where?

  "I didn't know the city had a slave ring like this. It’s so huge," Daniel said.

  "It didn't always. It was the big man making connections outside the US. They kidnap tons of people for free labor and pleasure for terrorist installations. Or at least that's what I heard," Pyunma said.

  "I didn't get your names."

  "Pyunma Abimbola."

  "Margret McGee." Margret extended her arm for a handshake.

  Daniel paused as he saw Margret’s offer but accepted it as he realized she wasn’t thanking him for anything.

  Daniel took a deep breath."The name is Daniel Jones. And I'm so sorry for not stopping this. When I fail, I fail hard."

  "When you fail? Daniel, are you a police officer?" Margret asked.

  "N-no, I meant I saw some funny business near where I live. I should have reported it."

  "Don't be too hard on yourself, Daniel. You're only human," Margaret said.

  As Daniel heard Margret, he dropped to the floor.

  “By the way, did either of you see where they brought us? I mean, do you know what the outside looks like?”

  “Sorry, no,” Margaret said sorrowfully.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “I don’t know about anyone else, but for us, they put a sack over our heads before dumping us here.”

  “Perfect.” Daniel slapped his forehead.

  An hour later, Daniel and the others stared at the ceiling with weary eyes.

  "I wonder if this is anything like what Angel went through?"

  "Angel?" Pyunma asked.

  "My girl, Karen Karter. She served in the US military. And she got caught by the enemy on a mission. But she never tells me anything outside of that."

  "Daniel, can you describe her?" Margret asked.

  "Well, there's a reason why I call her angel. God and I have a bad relationship, but she’s so beautiful. I don’t know what else to call her. Her huge muscles alone do it for me."

  Pyunma looked at Margret longingly. "You're lucky, Danny, having a girl like that."

  Two male guards opened the cell door and entered with two plates of food. The guards tossed the plates in front of Pyunma and Margret. And they shared a groan looking at the single loaves of moldy, stale bread.

  "You call this food?" Pyunma asked.

  "Feel free not to eat it."

  One of the guards looked at Margret and ran his hand against her face, but she slapped his hand away.

  "Man, I wish the boss would let me buy this one. I would have to take out a loan. But the fun I could have would be worth every penny."

  As he heard the guard, Pyunma stood up, attacking him, but his comrade punched him in the face, knocking him down. And Margret cried as she hurried to his side.

  Daniel charged at the guards. He headbutted the one who touched Margaret’s face. As his comrade moved to retaliate with a kick, Daniel caught it and threw him at the cell bars. More enemies hurried into the cell from the commotion. Daniel went to fight them off, but they ganged up on him, beating him to the floor.

  "Enough. We have to keep the merchandise intact."

  The guards picked up their comrades and started to leave the cell. Still, as Daniel tried to stand up, one kicked him in the ribs.

  "I'll gladly take the heat for that one."

  Later, Pyunma and Margret ate their loaves of bread. Daniel's stomach growled like a wild animal. As Margret heard him, she broke off a piece of her bread, handing it to Daniel.

  "Thanks, Margret, but you should save it for yourself."

  "Nonsense, we're all intelligent human beings here. So we must be kind to one another," Margaret said.

  "You sound a lot like my girl and my pop."

  "God, I wish I could see my pop right now. I had it all planned out. I would migrate from Africa to America. Work hard to become a respectable businessman.” Pyunma took a deep breath. “And finally, be independent of my family. But now? I guess I’ll die a failure."

  "I wanted to be a painter, but now I can't even try.” Margret began weeping. “Oh god, I don't want to die."

  Margret broke into a crying fit, becoming a sobbing mess on the floor, a flood of tears escaping her eyes as snot dripped from her nose. Daniel looked at her, unable to turn away. And he pulled her off the floor, shaking her aggressively.

  “Get a grip, woman.”

  “But—“

  "Listen, I have my stuff to finish, too. So I'm going to get us all out of here. But I need you to do what I say," Daniel interrupted.

  ***

  At the apartment, Karen ate her and Daniel's dinner on a blanket on the floor, glancing at her wristwatch.

  "It's been over four hours. Strange, love, usually takes three at most to sulk."

  She wondered where Daniel could be as she fixed her eyes on her watch. However, as time passed, her nerves became tighter and tighter. She knew he could more than care for himself in an emergency. Still, even as they defied logic, her worries persisted, bombarding the back of her mind. But soon, Karen couldn’t deny it any longer. She was indeed a doting partner, finally relenting to her feelings.

  “Off we go.”

  Karen got up and hurried to their bedroom. She reached into one of Daniel's suitcases and pulled out his car keys. As she got them, Karen stopped at the door as a thought entered her mind. ”Oh, god.” She ran back to one of her suitcases and pulled out a gun and a box of bullets, loading the former as she sprinted out.

  Later, Karen drove through the city in the Chrysler Thunderbolt. And she quickly stopped in front of a comic book shop, Daniel’s favorite one.

  “I have quite the night ahead of me.“ Karen thought.

  Karen continued her search, running through a cemetery. She cut through the darkness of the night with her flashlight and soldiered to her destination as she endured the cold night air. Finally, reaching Jack's grave, she looked around the area frantically for Daniel.

  “Blast, there aren't even footprints.”

  Karen let out a groan and started to leave. But she stopped as she looked back at Jack's tombstone, surrendering a small smile.

  "I always respected you, sir. Rest well in heaven."

  Karen again drove through the city. She spotted a hooker club with dozens of beautiful women right outside. Throughout her search, she never thought to look over such establishments. The memory of their promise to remain faithful to one another ached her mind as it came into view. But in Daniel’s moment of distress, perhaps he relapsed into old ways. If so, she would forgive him again, proclaiming that she understood he was under more stress than any human should. So, as she went by, she took a deep breath and prepared to turn around. However, Karen quickly stopped herself.

  “No, I won't do it. I know love wouldn’t do it to me again.” Karen stopped the car on the side of the street. “But then I am left with one final recourse. Homeless Heights.”

  ***

  Karen arrived in Homeless Heights, speeding into the neighborhood. As she locked up the car, she dashed over to a group of homeless people, pulling out Daniel's picture from her purse.

  "Excuse me, have you seen the gentleman in this photograph? He's my boyfriend, and I haven't been able to find him all night."

  As the homeless people nodded no, Karen gripped her hand over her face.

  Karen hurried away from the homeless people, going to another group, but the young woman Daniel saved saw her and gave chase.

  Quickly, Karen approached more homeless people, and the young woman was close behind. But as she was about to touch Karen’s shoulder to get her attention, two gangsters beat her to it, and she froze in their presence. The other homeless people ran away as swiftly as they could.

  "Excuse me, miss, we saw the picture you were holding earlier. And we think we know where your boyfriend is. Please, come with us."

  "Is that so?" Karen raised an eyebrow.

  The gangster gripped Karen’s shoulder tighter. "Yes."

  Quickly, Karen kicked the gangster in the knee, knocking him to the ground. He moved to get up, but she shoved his face into the dirt with a stomp on his back. His comrade pointed his gun at Karen in retaliation. However, before he could fire, she drew her gun and shot his arm, disarming him.

  The first gangster squirmed on the ground desperately, trying to escape her grasp. Karen let him up, quickly putting his arm in a submission hold and twisting it behind his back. His arm bones creaked as she bent them. And as she almost pulled his arm out of its socket, he screamed at the top of his lungs.

  "Firstly, as you know, I have a boyfriend, so don't touch me so casually. Secondly, if you truly know where he is, please detail his location so I can get there myself," Karen said.

  The second gangster dived for his gun on the ground. As he got it, he shot at Karen. She quickly ran for cover behind garbage cans. The gangsters ran away, but as Karen moved to give chase, they shot at her, forcing her back behind them. As the gangsters escaped, the young woman sprinted to Karen. She reached her, and Karen grabbed her by the neck, preparing to punch her in the face. But she stopped as her fist was inches away, seeing the young woman's look of terror, realizing she wasn’t another enemy.

  Karen released her neck. "I-I am so sorry."

  "I-I think I know where your boyfriend is."

  "Where?"

  "Most likely on a slave ship on the Hermes Co. Airfield a few miles from here. That's where they usually take people from here."

  "How did this happen, and why haven't you notified the authorities?"

  "He saved me from being nabbed when they knocked him out with a wooden plank. And no one here has enough evidence to go up against a company as powerful as Hermes."

  "A wooden plank? Are you quite sure?”

  The young woman nodded.

  “But how?”

  Karen’s mind was abuzz with numerous questions. Was the young woman lying, or was she merely ill-informed? If she was telling the truth to the best of her ability, what could have caused Daniel, a being Karen knew could absorb a hail of bullets without injury, to be subdued by a wooden plank? Still, time was running away from her, and she had no other leads.

  “Thank you. Please stay safe." Karen hurried to her car.