Finally, at one last stop, another woman was rousted from a bunker by the deputy. Rembocha eyed her as she struggled and yelled. “Don’t worry about her,” he said, pushing her roughly into the wagon. “I will take care of this one myself.”

Afterwards, they brought me back to the police station and put me back in the holding cell. It had been a horrific day and the images of what I had seen tormented me into the night. 

I awoke overnight needing to relieve myself. I knew there was a bucket provided for that purpose in the corner of the cell, but I took the opportunity to go to the door to see what was happening outside. I pushed down on the heavy iron latch and was surprised to find it wasn’t secured.

Just as amazing, there was not a guard on duty in the station. There was nothing to prevent me from walking out the front door of the police station. Which is exactly what I did. Suddenly and inexplicably, I was free again.