Hitchhiker Ch. 02: The Telling

The stiff upstate breeze cut through me during an anxious wait at the Thruway exit.

Even with a suggestion of spring, April is cold in New York and snow still lurked in the shadows of the evergreens.

Seven of us huddled alongside the exit ramp, each holding a makeshift sign urging rides to places like "D.C," and "Boston," destinations scrawled in bold letters. Mine read: "Harrisburg."

With a little luck, I'd catch a lift to my Danny. I could hardly contain myself.

"Stop you prick," I murmured as the banged-up van slowly rolled toward the tollbooth. The driver had longish scraggly hair and a grungy beard I didn't like. I wasn't into grungy. But he glanced my way so I nodded a tempting nod.

It was almost too easy and I laughed smugly, thinking, being a girl was just fun sometimes. We could always outmaneuver the guys, snapping up rides from male drivers with a practiced wink.

So I winked. He looked. I winked again. He stopped!

Suddenly, my sweetheart was a mere two hours away! I so loved surprising him by showing up unexpectedly at his door. A whole weekend! Yes! What luck! Fuck yes!

The driver looked my way a second time. No smiles though. But using his arm in a sweeping motion he gestured and I grabbed my backpack as the door opened for me. "Hi," I said, jumping onto the high front seat. "Appreciate the lift." A cloud of marijuana smoke filled the cab. Smelled good and I wondered if I'd get a buzz. I fastened my seatbelt and when I looked up, he was holding a miniature glass pipe.

"Here." In some way, the offer felt too much like a demand and I recoiled. I shook my head no. "Suit yourself." His face was expressionless; his comment curt. "What's your name?"

"Jayden McM..." I stopped myself, thinking first names were enough.

Glancing down at my cardboard sign he probed further. "Jayden. Pretty name. What's in Harrisburg?"

"My boyfriend...he's at Widener U."

"Cool. He knows you're coming?"

"No. Um, well, yes. I mean, he suspects I'm sure...but..." This suddenly felt like an interrogation.

"Freshman?"

"Junior. He's...a criminal justice major." I sounded nervous, even to myself. He knew I was lying.

"Ahh...criminal justice. gonna be a cop?" I nodded defensively. "Hey, aha...Jayden, you're in luck. We're passing right by Widener," he added helpfully. I turned my head a bit, catching a partial glimpse of his profile but the unkempt hair obscured my view.

"Whatcha' lookin' at?" He asked, turning to face me. This time, he managed a half-smile.

"Nothin. Thought I heard somethin. That's all."

What I could see without being too direct wasn't bad-looking but I quickly re-focused on the road ahead. He slowed and grabbed a ticket from the booth attendant.

There was a rasp in his eerily empty voice and I thought of how he said, "We're passing by Widener," and wondered, who's we?

Apprehensively turning my head, I glanced back into the rear of the cab.

"Hey girly!" A chiding voice called out from right behind me.

"Hi," I answered cautiously. They picked up on my unease as my eyes took in four more boys, all sitting on the floor. They were passing a joint.

"So...where...where you guys going?" I asked anxiously.

"Florida," one boomed. "Yeah, fuckin' sunny Florida!" Reinforced a second.

"Florida. Wow. You're in school there?" I peeked at my watch. It was nearly one o'clock.

"Yeah," two hollered in what felt like counterfeit harmony. Their flippant response was followed by scarcely muffled laughter.

Shit. I hadn't expected this. I didn't like vans. They had no side windows and you never knew how many people might be hiding in the back.

By then we were speeding down 81 South. The guys became quiet. Happily, my nerves followed suit. The driver clammed up too. Probably high on dope, I thought.

Laying my head back on the seat, I closed my eyes and dozed off.

Part II

Deep ruts in the road jarred me awake. Opening my eyes, I felt a sudden chill of mild uncertainty, thinking, the highway! Where's the highway?

My head drifted to the driver and I sleepily stumbled through a question. "Where...where are we?" His response was another blank stare and my body bounced from the seat as he took the van through deep puddles in the dirt road.

As inconspicuously as I could, I checked my watch again. I'd been asleep nearly two hours. We had to be near Harrisburg. But what happened to Route 81? What were we doing here, on some abandoned road in the middle of a forest?

"So...what's up you guys?" I asked guardedly.

The driver glanced over at me, managing a cynical smile and murmuring dryly, "It's a shortcut to your boyfriend's campus. NOW SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

"What did you say?" His tone chilled my entire being.

"Nothin'." I glared at him.

As the road narrowed, weeping pines screeched against the windshield, sharpening my agitation. None of this felt right and for an instant I thought about jumping from the van. But we were moving too fast and I was afraid.

Finally I had no choice and summoning my courage, I spoke out again. "I need you to bring me back to the highway!" A mocking silence followed, as if the first to react might be the loser in some cruel game of "scare the coed."

Just then, I instinctively flinched as a branch struck hard against the hood. My arms flew to my face in protection as jeering laughter riddled the cab.

"See that bitch jump?" Someone called out sharply.

I pleaded, this time looking directly at the driver. "Please man, I mean it." My voice cracked under the growing tension and I felt my body twitch.

"Please what, cunt?"

"Look, stop that. Take me back to 81!"

By then we had driven into a secluded clearing where the road looped into a circle. The driver hit the brakes suddenly, bringing us to an abrupt stop. He hunched over the steering wheel, resting his forehead as if turning something over in his mind.

Lightly touching the gas pedal again, he slowly brought the van around, facing the way out. "All right," he groaned bruskly.

Switching off the ignition, he looked squarely at me while calmly reaching for the open pack of smokes resting on the dashboard. I clutched the door handle.

"DON'T -- even think about it." His tone was menacing.

With my eyes frozen on the road ahead, I spoke in as firm a tone as I could manage: "Take me back to the highway." Meant to be unyielding, it came out as little more than a whisper and to make matters worse, a submissive one. In submission, I lifted my hand away from the door.

"We'll take you back - when WE...decide to take you back." He paused and inhaled deeply on the cigarette before blowing smoke into my face. Coughing, I turned away from him. "Anyway, you're kinda hot so getting ya back to 81 may take some time."

Another pause followed. No one spoke. My heart pounded. He flicked the cigarette out the window and the stillness in the van shattered as the back doors flew open. The four bounded out to block my escape.

I grabbed for the handle again and the driver lunged, seizing my wrist. The force of his grip startled me. I'd always thought I could fight a man off if I had to, but he was too strong. I raked at his face with my nails, drawing blood and crying, "Let go of me!"

Instead of the yell I expected, he reacted with eerie calm. "You little fuckin bitch." Touching his fingers to the blood, he eased them away from his face, as if scrutinizing a forensic sample.

Inspecting it, he looked down at my heaving chest and smiled. "You're a little fighter, aren't ya. I happen to like fighters."

"Don't touch me!" I shouted back. He grinned.

The door jerked open and the others grabbed hold of me, dragging me from the vehicle. I fell hard against the ground but almost as quickly, I jumped to my feet and began backing away as they formed into a circle around me.

The driver's door opened and the four parted ranks for him. Their leader stepped forward and almost absentmindedly, he bounded to me and slapped me hard across the face with the back of his hand.

I fell again and he kicked my stomach. Moaning, I instinctively curled into a ball. "That's for scratching me whore!"

Through what had become meager sobs, I could hear highway traffic in the distance. I had to reach it.

Somehow I found the strength to draw myself up again and I inched this time, irrationally believing that moving slowly might hide my intentions. They were ragged thoughts -- panic left over from a hitchhiker's dream of surprising her lover.

Turning, I recklessly pushed one of the men aside and stumbled forward, all the while enduring laughter as voices grew ever louder in pursuit.

It was no use. My aching legs couldn't move fast enough over a road that seemed alive under me. I tripped and fell again.

All five of the men took positions, resuming their hateful game. They surrounded me and my eyes darted, seeking some path of escape. That's when my hat was yanked away and my long golden hair fell down over my shoulders, prompting a leeringly offensive "WOW!"

"Will ya look at her!" One sneered. "Ain't she a fox? I'm sick a' waitin'. LET'S FUCK HER!"

My eyes shifted from one face to the next. By then, I was beset by uncontrollable twitching as fearfulness coursed through my veins. But in spite of it, my mind freeze-framed their grins as I crawled backward through the high grass, all the while stumbling and crying, until I lifted myself again.

My attackers closed themselves around me and I realized my long flowing hair had a hypnotic effect on them. So I pulled at it, stuffing it under my jacket collar.

Struggling to rise and buffeted by laughter, I wet my pants. In a mortifying public declaration that I had lost all control. I was completely vulnerable.

"Hey bitch. Git rid 'a this!" The heavyset guy barked. A sharp iciness tore through me as he seized my jacket. With a hard jerk, the buttons popped as he yanked at my sweater. A moment later, I was half-naked in front of them.

Instinctively, I covered my breasts; my eyes searching them. They closed in more tightly. Long past desperate, all I could manage was a forlorn plea as I searched his face - the youngest -- maybe eighteen, my age. He would save me, I thought. "Please, please, don't hurt me anymore! Please!"

He hesitated, but the others demanded. "Get her asshole! Get her now! She's yours! You take her first! Do it man! No sloppy lasts! Not for you!" Obedient, the boyish figure sheepishly inched into the circle.

My eyes locked onto his face and I saw it; that it was all too clever, too convenient somehow. They were playing out the latest chapter of a diseased hobby; a gang of thugs that trolled for naive hitchers at Thruway exits. And they'd done it all before.

My crazed mind lurched to the others, to faceless, desperate girls trapped in these terrible woods. But those thoughts had little time to wander as my hair was grabbed from behind, wrenching my head back.

With my spine painfully arched, I couldn't move. Without my bra, I was completely exposed to the frigid air.

Instinctively covering myself and crying a baby's cry, they pursued me as if having become a single, perverted mind.

"BLINDFOLD THE BITCH!" I heard one shout.

"No! Please! My money -- take it! Let me go! Please! My iPad...it's in my backpack!"

A man with a heavy beard brushed the boy aside and stepped towards me. Heckled on by the others, he seized my arms, throwing me hard against the ground and forcing my face into the thick bed of leaves.

Grabbing my hair, he jerked my head back again and as if inflicting a final act of isolation, my scarf was harshly knotted at the back of my head as he growled into my ear, "We don't need no fuckin' iPad, slut!"

I listened in terror to my sobs. I was ashamed of my weakness and had lost all self-worth.

My thinking cascaded in flashes now, each isolated from the next as the rest of my clothes were torn away. Someone tugged off my panties. "Hey! Give these a sniff!" He ridiculed.

Someone grabbed my wrists, pulling them behind my back; a rope hurriedly wrapped around them. I was paralyzed, overcome by physical power.

Sending unconsciousness to my rescue, God intervened.

Part III

Her cries broke the silence of the woods; her permeating screams, unceasing.

Above it all, I heard faint voices, catching bits of words which seemed like directives. "Some...somebody help her," I heard myself plead. "Listen to her. She's hurt! Someone has to help."

But my thoughts soon re-formed and I remembered. I remembered where I was. I remembered what was happening. The singeing pain of the ever-tightening bindings acted as sharp reminders that the girl's screams were my own; that the shuffling feet all around were theirs; that I still burned in the hell of the clearing.

I raised my face skyward and the sun seeped into the blindfold. My breasts ached as the men took turns pinching them, pulling hard at the nipples and grasping them tightly, they lifted my leaden body from the frigid ground.

With their cigarettes, they randomly touched at my skin. The burns seared me and I shrieked and struggled in vain to free my hands.

Images of the glowering men flashed through my mind. I remembered Cara's warning. But unlike before, this time I heard the worry in her voice; fears I so casually disregarded. "Don't, Jayden," she pleaded. "Don't hitchhike all that way. I don't like it."

Why didn't I listen? Why did I never...

The scarf still blinded me. Sharp pains radiated through my shoulders, all due to the ropes which prevented movement. I remembered too, who I was and listened to my body's frightful entreaties to heaven. "Save me," I prayed.

I retched as full consciousness overcame my gauzy defenses. A man had forced himself deeply in my throat. I was suffocating - my mouth repulsed by semen which I could neither swallow nor spit.

Strong fingers held my nose, forcing breath through my mouth which was alternately closed against the air as one erection intruded after another.

They pulled my hair, using it as a device to steady me. Each man pushed his way in, then pulled away after finishing, forcing me to swallow in exchange for enough air to survive.

"Hurry up asshole!" One shouted gruffly. "She's gonna conk out again dick head! I need her awake!" The erection lodged in my mouth abruptly pulled away and I gulped; gasping before the next took his place.

Two sets of hands forced my shaking legs apart and another lunged into me. I hurt. I was dry and flinched as they tore the delicate tissue of my sex. I twisted and screamed. In the end, I was powerless and their strength overcame me.

Through my groans, they continued on, as one followed another, each finishing in my mouth.

Part IV

A fire crackled beside me and my nostrils filled with the smell of burning wood. There were murmurings all about. I rolled onto my side and vomited again.

They applauded loudly. "Holy fuckin' shit. How revolting is that? Let's fuck her more!" More laughter.

"Not me," added another. "Look...she's...she's pathetic. I want outa' here!" It was his voice, the boy I tried but failed to reach out to. He didn't want to be here - doing this thing.

"Why?" I groaned in a half-whisper. Their laughter paused a moment.

"Why what, cunt?"

"Why...hate me?" All went silent as if my feeble question somehow made them pause.

"Nobody hates ya bitch," one finally snapped. "You just happen to be fuckable. That's all! Yeah, fuckable!" Cheers validated the response.

"I'm sick," I moaned. "Please. Please stop. I hurt. Please," I begged.

Though I had scrutinized each man, their features had mysteriously vaporized, as if they had pillaged my mind, selectively purging their features after taking what they wanted from my body.

It didn't matter anymore. Lying face down in the brittle leaves; I had lost any will to fight, leaving only whimpers of the beaten. Someone spread my cheeks apart. A hand reached under me, swabbing the semen between my legs. He smeared it onto my anus and a brutal finger forced its way inside.

They lit more cigarettes, touching the scorching tips against the backs of my legs. Crying out hysterically, I squirmed, but couldn't protect myself.

The head of a penis pressed into me. He plunged. I gasped. I cried as pain flowed through me. I hurt everywhere and invited death; anything to make an end.

He came with an animal's grunt.

But then, the atmosphere around the fire changed. It was replaced by an odd stillness. Instead of the chronic laughter, I heard the sharp sounds of snaps, buckles and zippers.

Receding footsteps accompanied the opening and closing of doors. The van's engine roared to life. The driver's raspy voice broke the hush. "Move it!"

Still pressed hard against the cold ground, I shuddered as lingering footsteps paused near to my face. They stopped and I heard the snap of a jack knife being opened.

"Please," I pleaded. "Please...don't cut me." He pulled at my wrists and slit the ropes.

"You'll be OK baby," said the young man with the soft voice. "But whatever ya do, don't take that blindfold off til after ya can't hear the van anymore. You listenen?" He followed with a grim warning. "And don't never tell nobody! They found ya once. They'll find ya again! Sleep now. We're done with ya."

Part V

Long hours passed before convulsive shivers awakened me to the now silent woods. My body ached, but my hands were free.

With sore fingers, I lifted the blindfold, allowing terrified eyes to wander. Embers from the waning fire still glowed, but otherwise, all was darkness.

I looked up into the sky above. Orion stood silent watch in the heavens as if all was what it was. Tears fell from my eyes and I railed into the nothingness: "It's not what it was! Don't say it's the same! It can never be!"

My sobs continued in vengeful scorn as I averted my eyes from the inky blackness. "My world's stolen," I sobbed, "and you stand there, guardian of the night! You, who abandoned me! Bastard!" I shouted.

I felt for my clothes. Like the remnant of my body, they were torn and filthy. Gradually, my mind did what I didn't want it to do - not ever again. It cleared and it raced - to Danny. His face suddenly filled my mind's vision! What would Danny say? Men think these things are our fault.

"Oh God!" I heard myself cry out. Holding my jacket to my tortured eyes, I cried, "Oh God, dear God!"

"Jayden! JAYDEN!" It was Danny's voice echoing through the daze of my slumber. Slowly opening my eyes, I watched as his soft features inserted themselves, replacing the blur. His naked shoulders hovered over me and he stared down in that loving way.

"The dream Jayden! It's the dream...you were having it again!" His face was a study in worry, even as loving fingers wiped beads of cold sweat from my forehead. His calm and reassuring whisper rescued me from the torture of sleep. "Jayden. It's OK now. It's over."

I looked up and past him; my eyes fixed in icy blankness. I should have drawn him to me but instead I turned, away from his love and all the while thinking -- you're right my darling man. It is over - again.

End

Epilogue -

Jayden had spent almost a year at an all-girls college in upstate New York. After the events of that April, she never returned there. To the present day, the incident remains unreported.