Saz Part 2

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For Part one click here
Be warned - strong language.

Saz sat on the back seat cursing herself, she hadn’t even put up a fight.

            “Where the hell are you taking me?” she said, looking at the fields and hedges through the car window. “Hey, are you guys deaf?” She looked around at the three mute men in the car with her. “This can’t be legal, you know? On what grounds are you detaining me?” The car rolled on through the countryside. “Oi, I’m talking to you.” 

She shivered, despite the heat outside,  the car was kept cold.

“At least turn the aircon off,” she said, but no one moved. 

They pulled off the main road and swerved along a country lane for a little while. Saz closed her eyes and thought of Greg. What would he think of her new hair? Would he still love her without her red locks? At least he was safe. Out of the country. He’d tried to convince her to go with him on his latest trip, but she’d decided to stay home, convinced everything would be alright. He had every right to say I told you so, but she knew he wouldn’t. She just wished there was a way to get a message to him.

 She saw the sign for the army base and understood. They turned left and a barrier opened for them, two soldiers lying each side of the road their guns waiting for uninvited guests. They drove up to a courtyard where army lorries were parked and a queue of civilians waited in line, suitcases on the floor around them. Saz was reminded of old war films. Maybe in 60 years’ time they’d make a movie of this.

            “Get out,” one of the men said.

            “Oh, so you can talk,” Saz replied as she climbed out of the car.

            “This way,” she was lead to a low-rise building. “Sit there.” He pointed to a plastic seat and then disappeared through a door to the right.  She was in a portacabin office, with a metal desk and three plastic seats. Behind the desk another mute man stared at his computer.  People came and went through the three doors in the office. It reminded Saz of a Swiss weather house. She didn’t like the look of this place. She felt sick. she wanted to go home. Up until now it had been an adventure, but it was suddenly very real. Her wrists hurt where the cuffs still dug into her. Stay strong for Greg, she told herself. The door opened again and a uniformed man came through. He had a pimply face and looked too young to be a soldier.

            “Sarah Edwards?” he said.

Saz looked around, to see if there was anyone else he could be talking to.

            “Yes,” she said.

            “Come with me.”

The squaddie led Saz through a myriad of doors and corridors until they reached the cells.

            “You fucking whores, you won’t get away with this. You fucking bastards. I’ll fucking tear off your balls.” The female voice echoed down the corridor. Saz hoped she wasn’t put in a cell with whoever it was. “Bastards, Fucking bastards.”

            The solider took Saz’s cuffs off and then opened a door. Saz saw a big black woman standing in the cell.

            “Oh, about bloody time,” the woman said.

            “Sit down, you’re not going anywhere. But I’ve got you a little friend for you to play with.” he pushed Saz into the cell and slammed the door. The two women looked at each other. Saz averting her gaze as quickly as possible. She went to one of the bunks and sat on it, curling her legs up into her chest and wishing Greg was there.