Captive Youth
Keith’s boring life becomes a fight for survival when a half-naked, handcuffed Mexican girl jumps into his little sports car. Events escalate to mortally dangerous when a man starts shooting at and chasing them.
Raised by his grandmother as a “Christian gentleman,” Keith quickly learns that behaving in accordance with those values is more difficult than he imagined. Not understanding the Spanish the girl speaks, he contacts his girlfriend for help in translation. She tells him members of a human-trafficking ring are pursuing them, and local police can’t be trusted.
When his girlfriend tries to help them find safety, members of the trafficking ring kidnap all three teenagers. Faced with the threat of abuse and death, the young people must depend on each other if they are to escape.
Set in the South of the U.S. during the tumultuous sixties, this thriller immerses one in the limitations, mores, and prejudices of the time.
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Captive Youth
Bonita- an exert
The fever was upon her. Blood coursed through her body. She had already killed three men tonight. She felt invincible. Breaking the girl’s neck would be too easy. She didn’t care that El Tigre had said not to kill the others. Maybe the boy would try to protect Consuela. The thought made her smile. Outside, she walked over to the garage and lifted its door. She caressed the hood of the Camaro parked inside. She loved the car. Like her, it was mean and hard—but most of all, fast. Very few vehicles of any kind could stay anywhere near it on the road. It was her kind of car. She gathered the items she might need from the storage room and put them in a weapons bag. After throwing the bag into the trunk, she got in the car and turned the ignition key. The car roared to life, and she sat exulting as the garage amplified the loud, staccato noise. Pushing her favorite cassette tape into the player, she waited a second for the music to begin. “I feel good!” James Brown’s shrill voice blasted over the pulsating background rhythm as she turned the player up full volume and backed out. The car’s rear wheels threw sand and gravel in an arc as far as the house when she turned and floored it. She soared along the dirt lane, reveling in the pounding music, the sensuous anticipation of another kill, and the nervy challenge of pushing the car to the very edge of control.
I was drawn in right away. Starting in the middle of action doesn’t always work, but I believe it does in this story. I would love to know more about Keith and the girl. I also would love to know why the gunman wanted the girl and Keith dead.