Once I was satisfied with the chains, I was ready for my adventure. On Tuesday, my regular day off, I drove out to a region where juniper trees made up most of the vegetation. These 'trees' are rarely taller than twenty feet and they are widely spaced, but they are thick enough to cut visibility down to a hundred feet or so. They are found in areas where the available moisture is not quite enough to support pine trees, and these regions aren't used much even during the peak of the tourist season, because the pine forests are so much nicer. I figured that in mid-September, and in the middle of the week, I could find someplace that was sure to be deserted.

At about nine o'clock I turned off the highway onto a dirt road, drove about five miles, and stopped where a dry stream bed, called a 'wash' out here, crossed the road. When I turned off the engine and got out of the car I felt a sense of isolation. All I could hear were some birds. I hadn't seen another car or even the dust raised by one. I felt I was totally alone.

I had everything I needed in a daypack. I checked that the padlock was open, and put one padlock key in a magnetic keyholder that I put under the rear bumper. I put another key under a rock near the front of the car. I thought it was unlikely that the car would be stolen out here, but better safe, etc.

I walked up the wash for about twenty minutes. I calculated that it would take me at least four times that long to walk back once my ankles were chained. I couldn't see the car or the road, but I knew that if I stayed in the wash I couldn't get lost, and it would be easier to walk here, too.

I got everything out of the daypack and took off all of my clothes except for my shoes and socks. I sat down and used the wrenches to fasten the cuffs and chain on my ankles, and then put my clothes and the wrenches in the daypack and zipped it closed. There was a loop sewn to the top of the daypack, and I put the end of the chain through this loop. I fastened the end of the chain around my neck with a bolt, two washers, a nut, and a diaper pin, making sure that the daypack's loop was inside the loop around my neck. I adjusted the daypack so that it was between my shoulder blades. Its contents would now be inaccessible.

I thought I heard something and stopped to listen, but it was just a flock of birds taking flight somewhere close by. I picked up the gag I was going to use. I made it by rolling a whiffle ball in a scarf, with knots in the scarf to hold it in place. Most people use ball gags, but I won't use any gag that I can't breathe through unless somebody is with me. I don't want a stuffy nose to become a life-threating illness. After the gag was tied in place I pinched my nose to check if I could get air though it. There wasn't a lot, but any is better than none.

I put my wrists in the cuffs and reached around my back with the padlock. I always pause before making the final commitment and ask myself if I really want to do this. It seemed OK, so I closed the padlock and struggled to my feet. The chain around my neck kept me hunched over like Quasimodo. I started walking back down the wash.

I quickly found out two things: A. I had fastened my ankles closer together than I had planned to, and B. Sand isn't that easy to walk in when you've got to take real short steps. I hadn't gone fifty feet when I tripped and fell. I rolled and managed to fall on my right shoulder and arm instead of on my face, and luckily I didn't hit any rocks so I wasn't hurt. Then I found that: C. It was going to be hard to get up. I was about to try when I heard something and froze.

A voice said, "Look, Igor. This must be the slave girl that escaped from the caravan last night. Blond beauty like this is rarely found out here on the steppe."

I twisted around until I located the speaker, who was a boy of eighteen or so. I'm not that good at estimating ages, but his voice had that cracked sound that meant it was just changing. Another boy a couple of years younger stood next to him, and they looked so much alike I figured they were brothers. Both were wearing blue jeans, plaid flannel shirts, and white cowboy hats. The older boy had a backpack and both of them were carrying rifles.

The younger boy said, "Are we going to take her back to the caravan, Ivan?"

"No, Igor. We can get far more for her in Samarkand than any reward they would pay. Besides, we can use her ourselves before we sell her."

When I heard that I panicked. The ultimate nightmare is to be found by somebody who will use your helplessness for rape. Then I realized that they looked a little young for that and calmed down some.

"Stand on the chain near her neck, Igor. She won't be able to walk to our camp with her feet chained like this."

The younger boy, 'Igor', stood on the chain and pinned my head to the ground while 'Ivan' zipped open my daypack and took out the wrenches. He moved to my feet, took some rope out of his backpack, and hobbled my ankles. Then he unbolted my ankle cuffs and put all the hardware in the daypack and zipped it up.

Ivan motioned Igor to get off the chain, grabbed my arm, and pulled me up onto my knees.

"Come, girl. We have leagues yet to travel."

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