Chapter Text
Four years ago, it started....
Elderly homeless people started disappearing off the streets and from shelters in downtown Suncan, Arizona. Many assumed nothing of it, but the young ones who had been on the streets for a while, knew something wasn’t right.
So many rumors were going around the homeless community, you just didn’t know what to believe anymore.
Someone had said they had seen a nondescript black van with government plates roaming around the streets, telling the older homeless people they had free food and a place to stay. No one saw those people ever again.
Four years later... (Now)
The newspapers are talking about some new program run by the government that is supposed to give the homeless kids of the country a new life, a new name, and a new way of living. The program is called “New Beginnings”.
For the last six months many homeless kids between the ages of fifteen to twenty-five had disappeared. This occurring right after the announcement of the program.
The rumors started up again.
One boy had said a few of his friends were taken, while others managed to run. Those that ran, didn’t get very far. Again, the vans were offering free food and a warm place to stay.
Enforcers. That’s what the news called them. Big guys in black police-like uniforms that drove around those big black vans. They tracked down every homeless kid they could find just by driving around the downtown streets.
Children with parents and homes were made to stay at home. After school let out every child had to either be picked up by a parent or take the bus every day. The program’s director (No one knew his/her name) didn’t want the Enforcers to pick up the wrong child.
After the tent community behind the local G-mart had been raided the younger kids got smart. Many of the kids, ages 15-18, started hiding in abandoned buildings, alleys, under bridges. That didn’t stop the Enforcers. They got smarter too. Squads of five or six men started raiding those older buildings as well. Eight to ten kids at a time would be captured and hauled off in the vans, driven off to God only knew where.
Those that were left changed their hiding spots daily. Either running down through the sewers or hiding on roof tops. Some would hide in the same spot for a few days then move to another. Most of the ones that stayed put in one spot for too long were the ones that ended up in the back of the black vans. There wasn’t really any way to escape.
Angel learned this the hard way.
After running away from an abusive step-father four years ago, this blond haired, green eyed boy with a smatter of freckles across his nose, that weighed close to 80 pounds and stood at 4 foot 7 inches had come to Suncan to get a job and make something of himself. Four years of working at a small coffee shop called Tammy’s, he barely had enough money to buy himself a week’s worth of food, never mind rent a small one room apartment.
Mario, the owner of Tammy’s, took a chance on the small boy four years ago, giving him a job and a place to belong in this world. Although Angel didn’t look older than 5 or 7 years old the kid looked like he was running from a bad place. No matter where the kid came from, he was a good worker. Angel showed up early every day for his shift, was always polite to everyone and served a mean cup of coffee.
What people didn’t know was after five when Tammy’s closed Angel would walk six blocks to an old, creepy, weather-worn warehouse down by the shipping docks. With his old tattered backpack full of clothes, an old faded picture of his mother (who died six months before he ran away), an old beaten up sleeping bag (he stole from a shelter) and a stolen Coleman’s battery-operated camping lamp. He walked across the cement floor to a tucked-away back office where he calls home. He unfolded his sleeping bag and tucked it under the huge pine desk, making sure his lamp is on the lowest setting as he settled himself down for the night. Using his backpack for a pillow he laid down on his back, closing his eyes to sleep.
*****Flashback*****
The bed is nothing more but an old moldy blanket upon the floor, in a corner of the living room behind the battered couch that smells of alcohol and piss. The bastard known as his step-father blamed him for his wife dying. Like the 17-year-old had given his mother cancer.
The beatings had started long before she died, though the sexual stuff started after she died six months ago. He would come home, get drunk, and demand Angel to strip. He would tell the boy that it was his fault his mother had died, so he would take her place.
The day Angel had made his escape the bastard had generously given him a black eye and three bruised ribs. Over the fact that the boy wasn’t old enough or didn’t look old enough to go buy him some more beer. Angel had quickly packed a couple change of clothes, an old faded photo of his mother and the little money he could find in the couch cushions ($3.50 in change) into his old school bag. Knowing the sick fuck would be back soon from the local packie and demand a blow job, Angel pulled on his worn-out sneakers and ran out the front door just as his step-father came in through the back.
The boy ran down the street toward the small copse of trees that lead to the highway, before the fat fuck even knew he was missing, leaving behind the only home he ever knew.
Breaking through the trees, out of breath, he watched as the cars of all shapes and sizes whizzed by down the long stretch of pavement. Taking small, careful steps to the white line on the side of the road, the boy proceeds to stick his thumb out. Hitchhiking was dangerous, but if he had to deal with pervs like his stepdad to get out of here; if sucking dick meant he could escape, then so be it.
A red Ford F150 pulls to the side of the road after what felt like forever. Angel cautiously walked toward the passenger side window that was rolled down. The man behind the wheel was well built, dark hair, and had amazing grey eyes. He was HUGE! Compared to Angel.
“Where's your parents?” asked the driver looking past the boy into the trees.
“I don’t have any. I’m 17 and I can look after myself,” replied Angel, really wanting to get out of there before the drunk ass known as his stepfather came looking for him.
“Alright, where ya headed?” asked the driver with a toothy grin.
“Anywhere but here,” murmured the boy as he hauled his bag higher up onto his shoulder.
“Well, I can get ya to the next town, that’s where I’m headed.”
“Thanks,” said Angel as he climbed into the cab of the truck.
They drove in silence, nothing but a low sound of the radio to keep them company. Every once in a while, Angel would see the man take a glance at him. He wasn’t sure if this man wanted sexual favors for the ride. Part of him hoped not.
All too soon the man pulled over next to a sign that read; ‘Welcome to....’ the rest was spray painted over.
“Alright, this here’s where you get off,” said the driver. “Go find Grace. It’s a shelter, they will put ya up for the night.”
Angel nodded as he looked down at his bag in his lap nervously. “Thank you.” before opening the door to hop out. Closing the truck’s door behind him, hiking his bag over his shoulder and began walking down the road to a town he didn’t know. He looked around and noticed a lot of trees and grass surrounded the road, anyone could get lost out here.
The truck pulled away and began down the road toward the town. Yeah, the driver could have brought the kid with him, but he knows that sometimes you have to do things on your own. He could see the determination and fear on the boy’s face. If he had his way that little boy would never have that look on his face again.
The man picked up his phone, dialed and put it on speaker. He waited patiently for it to be picked up.
“Grace’s,” said an older woman on the other end.
“Hey Grace, it’s Chris. I’m sending one your way,” said the man as looked into his review mirror at the boy walking slowly.
“Alright. I got one cot left open,” said the woman.
“He’s thin, a breeze could bowl him over. Blond hair, green eyes, wearing a tattered Henley and pants too big for his frame.”
“Alrighty, I’ll be on the lookout for him. Thank you, Christian.” The man disconnected the line as he took a sharp left toward the business district of the town.
Angel couldn’t feel his feet anymore, his leg muscles felt like they were on fire, thankfully he didn’t have to go far to find Grace. It was across the street from where he stopped to rub his sore feet.
He heard the sound of a screen door banging closed. He looked up and across the street. A petite older woman with honey blonde locks in a long flowing blue dress slowly made her way down a white handicap ramp that was attached to the yellow building she had just come out of. Angel watched her from his stoop on the sidewalk. She stared at him before giving him a bright smile.
“Child, get your butt in here before you waste away to nothing!” cried the woman as she got closer to her side of the street.
Angel looked around to make sure she was talking to him before putting his shoe back on and walked across the street to her.
“Let me look at ya,” as she placed her hands on his tiny shoulders. “Oh lord, you are as skinny as a scarecrow, just as Christian had said.”
Angel looked at her in confusion.
“It’s alright doll. Let ol’ Grace get you settled with food and a warm bed.” She then turned around, starting up the ramp with Angel trudging behind, nervously.
Once in the building, Angel was surprised to see so many teenagers there sitting at tables that were scattered around the large room. It almost reminded him of a school’s cafeteria. Grace ushered him to a table. As he sat down a young boy of maybe 14, sat a plate in front of him filled with meat, mashed potatoes, and fruit along with a water bottle. Angel wasn’t sure if he was allowed to eat it. His step-father would have stolen the food from him as he backhanded him. Grace just stood there with an encouraging smile until the boy picked up his fork and dug in.
After he finished the meal, Grace showed him where he could sleep. It wasn’t much but it was more than he had ever had. A fold-out cot with a thin mattress with a large sleeping bag over it. It looked like a bed fit for a king. Grace left him as he laid down, curling up in the soft flannel of the sleeping bag. He thought of the fact that the driver of the truck and this kind woman had yet to say anything about his black eye or the way he limped due to the pain of his ribs, as he fell asleep.
Breakfast was at 7:30. Everyone was expected to be up and helping in some way. Angel got up noticing he had wet himself during the night. He sighed in disgust with himself, of course, he knew this would happen. After all the beatings he had endured, his bladder was weak. He quickly changed his clothes, leaving the sleeping bag on the bed where it was. Hoping the nice lady wouldn’t notice.
After breakfast, a piece of toast with jam and a glass of O.J., all the kids were either expected to go into town to look for jobs or shopping and others were to start on chores. Angel grabbed his bag and headed toward town. That’s when he met Mario.
****
Grace Fleet owns a homeless shelter, been there for twelve years. She has never had an issue, no drug overdoses, and keeps a tight ship. Therefore, four years ago when a government official came to her with the idea of the program, giving her very little information and promising no one would be harmed, she agreed once every couple of months her shelter would be “Raided”. The homeless would be cared for, at the same time this would free up some beds for others to come and stay at the shelter. She had more regulars staying than she knew what to do with and money was tight. She felt this the best way to go about saving money and saving the kids. The program really didn’t sound that bad, but the enforcers scared everyone. Not that they meant to, really. When you oversee picking up scared kids it's got to be a rough job.
The first raid didn’t go so well, Grace could admit that. It was four months after Angel came to stay at the shelter, only he wasn’t there. The little cutie had gotten himself a job and hoped to save enough for an apartment. Grace was proud of him, but still didn’t think he could make it on his own. He was one of the kids she planned to hand over to the Enforcers during the raid, but he never came back that day.
That first raid had seen six to ten kids all under the age of 20 off in the black vans. Little did anyone know Angel and three other boys were hiding behind a bush across the street watching the raid happen. From that day on Angel decided he would be better on his own. That’s how he came to be at the warehouse. Grace’s wasn’t the only shelter to get hit that day. The three boys that were hiding with him sought out another shelter to go to and were captured, never to be heard from again.