“You might want some of this for when the cartel gets you.”
He took another long gulp.
“Oh, Robre Nina,” he said, shaking his head.
“They will have a hundred men or more, stoked on “Viagra,” waiting for you.” “You will never survive it.”
“My poor little flower,” he said with a devilish grin.
“But, perhaps I can help you,” he laughed.
There was not enough fresh air in the room to breathe. His foul odor and sheer nastiness were just overpowering. He took another gulp of the liquor and stood up. He was a big man, as big as anyone I had ever seen. I cringed on the little couch, feeling the life draining from my body. He stood right in front of me and started to unfasten his pants.
“You will need my help to lessen your pain.”
“I will help you by stretching you out,” he laughed.
His grimy trousers dropped, and before my eyes was the most enormous cock I would have believed possible. The man’s cock was not human. It belonged on a farm animal. There was no way a normal woman could fit something that size into her. There wouldn’t be any way to have sex with something like that. It would be like going through childbirth for the woman. It would destroy any woman’s insides just trying to ride something like that. He reached for me and ripped open the front of my shirt. Buttons flew everywhere. He grabbed my bra, breaking the straps, and flung it in pieces against the wall.
“Dios mio,” he uttered, staring at my naked breasts.
I was trying to cover myself, but he kept knocking my arms down.
He began stroking that enormous cock like a man possessed. “El Diablo,” I thought. Surely the devil had done this to him. It would be the scourge of all women to have a beast like this walking the earth. Any woman he violated would never walk right again. The monster’s slimy cock was already leaking fluid. It was like some evil serpent oozing a foul venom and searching for a victim. All emotion was leaving my body with each breath.
He grabbed me at the waist and tore open my jeans, jerking them downward. He practically lifted me off the ground doing this. There was no struggling against someone his size. His filthy cock touched my body and was pressed up against my stomach. I couldn’t utter a sound. I was just shutting down all my senses. I prayed for a faint. At least then, the bastard would be denied my conscious resistance.
He tossed me down. I fell helplessly onto the couch. He hunched over me and started trying to mount me. The force was unbelievable. There was no stopping him and no way to accept his size. As my body was being stretched, my spirit reached deeply into some inner strength that I didn’t know I had left. I let out the loudest scream I had ever thought I was capable of, and I continued screaming. I hurt not only his ears but mine as well. I screamed again and again as he began forcing his way into me.
He smashed his huge hand down across my face. He was trying to silence my screams, but I managed to get my mouth open just enough for a part of his hand to get between my teeth. I bit down as hard as I could. The taste of blood filled my mouth. He ripped his hand away, leaving a chunk behind in my teeth. He bellowed like a wounded animal.
I would not accept this. I had been through enough, and I wouldn’t take this anymore. I will die first. He started rearing back with his other hand to smash my face in.
Just then, I became aware of something going on just outside the door, but the captain was now in full rage. With his hand raised, he was building up for a blow that would likely kill me.
Suddenly the door burst open, and one of the men that were traveling with us was standing there. He had a gun drawn and aimed right at the captain. Nothing was said; just a “BANG” and the gun went off. The shot went right through the captain’s head. Parts of his head left his body and splattered on me. Blood and tissue bits sprayed across my bare chest. My mouth and lips were already covered with blood from his hand.
Just then another shot rang out, and the man in the doorway holding the gun was thrown forward against the doorframe. Blood poured from his nose. He slumped lifelessly to the floor.
The captain’s twitching body rolled off of me. The ringing in my ears was overwhelming. The smell of gunpowder and smoke filled the tiny cabin room. In quick succession, a series of shots rang out. Bang, bang, at least eight to ten shots reverberated through the ship. There was shouting, then absolute quiet.
“Carlos, Luis,” I called.
Just silence.
I struggled to get up. I tried not to even look down where the captain was lying. His blood was splattered everywhere. It was on me, the wall, and the table. His ugly face now looked like a grotesque mask. I was sore as hell between my legs. I felt damp, but I was afraid to look, fearing it was blood. I got to my feet and stepped over the dead man lying in the doorway. The room across the hall’s door was in splinters after having been kicked in. I could see Carlos and Luis sitting on the floor, tied back-to-back with tape over their mouths. I saw the look on their faces. I had blood all over my mouth. Pieces of the captain’s head were sticking to my chest. I must have looked like a horror movie victim to them.
I hadn’t heard a single voice since the shooting stopped. I got down on my knees and crawled to my brother and Luis. I began removing the ropes. Carlos grabbed me and held me.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, fearing the worst.
I looked like a slaughter had occurred on top of me. I managed to say I was not shot, “I’m okay.” We held each other, afraid to even leave the room. Luis finally crept into the hallway. The guy who had shot the captain was crumpled in the doorframe. As we made our way up to the open deck, we stepped over the crewman who was not moving. Out on the deck, the remaining three guys were lying on the deck; one was still moving. We saw the girl the captain had left driving the boat. She was tangled awkwardly in the steering wheel. She was still sitting on the pilot’s seat, but blood was pooling on the white deck beneath her. She had been shot in the head from behind. Her face had been horribly distorted. The other crewman was slumped against a box just outside the door. It was a horrible scene, as bad as any massacre could be.
The lone survivor was on his side, groaning, and still holding onto the black bag he had carried on board. Luis saw that his gun had been knocked from his hand and had slid across the deck. He was moaning and struggling to keep hold of the bag. Luis went to his side. The poor man was mortally wounded. Blood seeped from where he lay. He could hardly speak but was asking for water. Carlos went below and found a drinking cup, filling it with some water from a cooler. By the time he got back, the man had ceased breathing.
I went back down into the room where the captain lay dead. I picked through my clothing on the floor and found something to cover me. I opened the drawer where he had hidden our money and stuffed it back into my backpack along with the rest of my clothes. I saw the drugs still sitting on the table, splattered with his blood. I just couldn’t touch them.
When I had gotten some clothes back on, I went back out on the deck. Carlos and Luis were both standing in the middle of the boat, surveying the carnage. We weren’t exactly sure what had just happened. Apparently, everyone on board who was armed killed everyone else. Luis told me the one guy had kicked in the room door where they were being held after hearing my screams. He heard my screaming again and went to the captain’s room, where he shot him. He was then killed by the crewman who came up from behind him. A hail of gunfire ended the lives of the girl and her boyfriend, and they all seemed to have killed one another.
We could only guess that maybe the men with the bags thought the boat crew was robbing each person one at a time and figured they would be next. I told Luis of the captain’s call to the Sinaloa cartel. And how he had sent a video of me with the dope spread out in front of me. They would be expecting me to be handed over once the boat made land. Luis was just staring into the dark. He seemed to be trying to put things in some order. The insanity of all the deaths left us in a situation. Luis was trying to cope with it all.
Carlos was over where the four men were originally sitting. The three bags they had carried on board were next to their dead bodies. Blood was splattered all over the place. Carlos unzipped the bags and was stunned to find a huge load of drugs. The two big bags held a stash of drugs packaged into brick-like shapes. The last bag was the one that caught all of our attention. Cash, hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth, stacks of it, all banded and put in marked bundles This was a huge amount. It wasn’t possible to even estimate how much, a million dollars maybe, or even more. Luis was still considering our options at this point.
The captain’s friend would call sometime, and what were we to do? Luis was slowly putting together a plan. He thought that if we could power the boat at least within sight of US territory, we could jump overboard and drift to shore on some flotation. If the coastal authorities spotted the moving boat later and gave chase, we might go unnoticed and make it to shore. No one other than the Sinaloa cartel really knew of our existence on the boat.
We went back into the captain’s cabin to retrieve our backpacks and the rest of our clothing. Carlos asked about the drugs still sitting on the captain’s table. Luis said to leave them. The drugs would be impossible to get to shore with. But here they might serve a purpose. We took all the cash the captain had taken from us. Luis pulled the captain’s pants back up and left him where he had fallen. He took his cell phone and kept it.
The cash in the bag was in itself going to be a challenge getting it to shore. No one would know it was here except the owners, and they didn’t know about us being on board.
Luis found plastic garbage bags in a small compartment and began wrapping our backpacks and the money bag. There were plenty of old flotation vests and floats that wouldn’t be missed. We left the bodies lying where they fell. Any investigation by US authorities would find things just as they happened. Carlos was questioning Luis about the value of all the drugs, but Luis’s idea was to erase any trace of us being on board.
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