Irina didn't know how long she would be stuck in the cold darkness, having never been to Kiev in her life. Depending on how fast the transport moved, how direct of a route they took and whether they ran into any problems, she figured it would take six to twelve hours. Not that it really mattered. Every minute she was stuck on the cold metal bench in the darkness seemed like an eternity.
Besides the frequent bumps in the road, the only regular noises Irina heard were the sobs of herself and many of her fellow prisoners. She wondered how many of them had been tortured, how many had been raped... how many were even actually guilty. Would the innocent be given a fair trial? She had no idea what to expect.
The prisoners pressed up against each other for warmth. Although there were occasional whispers between neighboring women, Irina didn't talk to the two people next to her. She just wasn't in the mood. She tried her best to get some sleep, but it was difficult and came in the form of short naps that were interrupted by discomfort and bumps in the road.
After some indeterminable amount of time, the transport lurched to a stop. Surely they weren't there yet, but Irina heard footsteps outside and the door was thrown open. The night was still pitch-black outside and she could barely make out the forms of guards standing at the entrance to the cargo hold.
"Are we there already?" asked a prisoner near the door, her voice filled with a mixture of anxiety and hope.
"Not even close," said one of the dark figures. "Figured some of you might need a piss break. Who needs one?" A few of the prisoners muttered their assent.
"All right, then, this is how it's gonna work," the man said as he pulled the cargo hold's ramp out and onto the ground. "You're gonna march out here in an orderly fashion and line up on the side of the road, facing away from it. We'll unfasten your left handcuff so that you can move your arms, and then you can figure out the rest."
Protests broke out among the prisoners. "In full view of the road?" "In full view of YOU?" "How are we going to do it with our ankles still bound like this?"
"SHUT UP!" bellowed the guard. "Now hurry up, or you'll just have to piss in your jumpsuits and wallow in it for the rest of the trip." The silent prisoners marched down the ramp and lined up as instructed.
"Okay," said the guard. "I have a little remote device here that's going to release your left handcuffs. After I do that, you have two minutes, at which point I'll instruct you to put your cuffs back on. I'll use the remote to verify that all of your cuffs are properly secured, and then we'll go back in the truck. Any attempts at escape will result in the use of force, deadly if necessary."
Irina's left handcuff released itself, but she didn't have to go... not that she would in such a degrading manner. She saw the silouettes of several other prisoners reluctantly unzip their jumpsuits and pull them off, down around their ankles before awkwardly squatting in order to avoid getting their jumpsuits soaked. A cold wind howled, causing the prisoners -- especially the ones who had peeled off their jumpsuits -- to shiver violently.
Several guards prowled back and forth with flashlights, inspecting the prisoners for any suspicious behavior... although Irina thought they were looking at some of the prisoners a little too closely.
"All right, two minutes are up!" barked the guard. The prisoners pulled their jumpsuits back up and re-secured their handcuffs. They stood in silence for a moment, after which Irina heard a commotion coming from the end of the line.
"Stop it, STOP IT! What the hell?!" Irina recognized the source of the protests -- Komal. It had appeared that two of the guards had unfastened her ankles from the chain holding all of the prisoners together and were dragging her away. She craned her neck to get a better look, but it was too dark to make out any details.
"All right, back into the cargo hold," said the guard who had done all of the talking. "Nothing you need to worry about. Just a disorderly and violent prisoner who needs to be separated from the rest of you." Irina followed the line of prisoners into the back of the transport and heard the door slam.
-----
Komal was shoved, still secured at her ankles and wrists, into the cabin of the transport. It was pleasantly warm inside and surprisingly large with two rows of seats and several cots in the back.
"Cigar?" asked a black-haired guard who held a foul-smelling brown cylinder towards Komal. She had never seen one in person before -- they were as rare as they were expensive, with very few farms growing tobacco plants anymore. She shook her head.
"Not feeling talkative, are you?" said the guard. "That's all right." He took a long drag from his cigar and blew the smoke in Komal's direction, causing her to cough. The guard chuckled.
"Oh, here, let me undo those restraints," the guard said. "Doubt you could overpower a half-dozen of us." He produced a small device and pressed several buttons on its surface in sequence. With a quiet clanking noise, Komal's restraints loosened. She removed the shackles from her wrists and ankles and rubbed the chafed skin beneath.
"So, what's a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this, anyway?" asked the guard with a grin. Komal remained silent and returned an icy glare.
"So, your ID chip says your family is from... India. Delhi. Why'd they move all the way up here?" Komal kept up her icy facade, but her heart was beating quickly. She certainly wasn't dragged into the cabin for friendly chit-chat.
"Why am I here?" she said angrily. "One of the men said I was being 'disorderly and violent.' What a load of bullshit, I was just trying to take a piss like everyone else."
The guard shrugged and nervously turned away from Komal, watching the road pass by through a window. Komal sat motionless for several minutes, when suddenly a pair of strong hands grabbed her arms and pulled her backwards off her seat.
"What... the fuck... are you DOING?!" Komal screamed as she kicked her legs, trying to break free from the man who was pulling her towards the back of the cabin. She was thrown face down onto a hard cot in the back of the cabin and felt the man straddle her on the cot, turning her over to face him.
"Thought you might want to keep us company for a little while on the road," the brutish-looking man said as he grinned widely and began fumbling with the zipper on her jumpsuit.
"NO!" shrieked Komal, fighting with all of her energy to keep the man off of her. She had been stripped, humiliated, beaten, shocked, groped and been put on the infernal "iron horse" since her capture, but unlike Irina and Natalia, she had been spared from this. She felt the erection growing in his pants as he slowly succeeded in peeling off her clothing.
"Somebody toss me some restraints!" the man called. His request was shortly granted and he managed to secure her arms behind her back and restrain each ankle to an opposite leg of the cot, spreading her legs wide. Her jumpsuit now lay in a crumpled heap next to the cot, and the man straddled her again.
"This isn't right, come on!" yelled a voice from the front of the cabin. Komal looked and saw the black-haired guard, the one who had offered her a cigar, looking on disgustedly.
"Keep out of other people's business, rookie," grunted the brutish-faced man. "This one may be pretty, but she's no different from the others -- she'd kill your whole family if she got the chance!"
"That's... not... true!" grunted Komal behind choked sobs as the man began sucking on her breasts. He worked his hand down between her thighs and jabbed his fingers into her her vagina, working to stimulate her. She let out a whimpering groan at the helplessness of her situation. The man slid off his own pants, apparently wanting to forgo any more foreplay and get on to business. Komal felt him slide inside of her and begin thrusting, when she suddenly let out a bloodcurdling scream. The man withdrew out of surprise and looked down: The cot between her legs was covered in blood.
"You on the rag, you stupid bitch? Why the hell didn't you say anything?" said the man angrily, wiping blood from himself. Komal sobbed and shook her head between tears. "There's no way a little whore like you is a virgin." Komal shook her head again.
"You can thank your friends in the prison and that goddamn 'iron horse' of theirs," groaned Komal, writhing in agony. "Guess I never fully healed... or maybe I got infected." She couldn't help but get some morbid satisfaction from the disgusted look on his face.
"Well, you're not getting out of this so easy," said the visibly angry man as he reached for his pants and retrieved a pistol. He grabbed her by the hair and, eliciting a yelp, pulled her into a sitting position. He knelt in front of her, grabbing her chin and pulling her jaw open.
"If I feel teeth, I pull the trigger," he said as he unceremoniously thrust into her mouth, forcing her to gag. Komal, with tears dripping down her cheeks, complied for a moment and sucked as best as she could. But she would not let him use her like a toy and get away with it.
Waiting for the sound of a gunshot, she clamped down as hard as she could.
