by R. D Rhodes
I froze, terrified. But no sound returned my cry. No footsteps, no cough, no talking. The black, damp air was thick about me. I could feel the dustiness and dirtiness too. I’m underground, I thought.
A throbbing ache replaced the sharp pain in my wrists. My ears were pulsing. I had pins and needles in my fingers. My fast, heavy breaths overdubbed the dripping water. Calm, stay calm, I told myself, and tried to stop myself hyperventilating. Then I noticed my shoes had been removed as well. And I could feel muddy earth beneath my bare feet. It must have been a basement.
I tried to stay composed but when I moved even slightly the pain in my wrists was unbearable. The shock of it burned through every nerve. My hands were stuck, I realised. I bit my lip and tried to bring them down again and heard metal chinking against metal, and what sounded like a chain. They were bound. Handcuffs, I panicked. They have me handcuffed.
I writhed my spine desperately against the curved metal object that I was locked into, some sort of pipe that came up from the floor and must have went up to the ceiling. The agonising pain shot into my shoulders and down my arms. My ears pounded with my racing heartbeat. I screamed as loud as my lungs would let me, “HELP!! HELP!! PLEASE! HEEELLP!”
Nothing.
I was in the car when it crashed, I remember that- and then I was in some sort of van. The man injected me, with sedatives? I woke up here, and now here I am. Where am I though? And why did they remove my jumper and hat and shoes and socks? I’ve still got my jeans on though, at least, thank God, but, oh fuck. What are they going to do? No! No. No. Not that. Not again.
“HELP!” HELP!” I thrashed. My left wrist cut against a bolt fixed into the pipe, that the handcuff chain kept catching on and was keeping my arms up and suspending my body. My eyes nipped with sweat, my face was clammy with it. The cuffs ripped deeper into the raw, exposed flesh and I jerked and wriggled and kicked out a leg and suddenly a yellow light flashed on and lit up the room.
It was a basement. Twenty by ten feet walls of red brick, a mud floor, and the knee-high electric light to my left connected to a small generator- which was placed to shine directly on me. I gasped. In the middle of the room- straight in front of my face- was a long, black ladder leading up to a manhole cover in the ceiling.
My head rolled back and I almost fainted. A wave of nausea rushed up from my belly. Is this what that vision in Inverness was? I thought in alarm. The ladder reached up to the closed metal cover and I remembered seeing the figure banging at it and banging at it and trying to get through. Was that supposed to be me? What kind of sick God let’s this happen? I cried. And the darkness had been scary, but this was even worse. The way the light was shining upon me, my arms tied above me, my jumper and shoes removed, and me left hanging there in my jeans and damp shirt like I was a prize object waiting to be gifted. I twisted frantically and my wrists screamed for me to stop, and when I eventually did, through tiredness, the light shut off and the room again plunged into darkness. I kicked out my leg once more. The light was motion censored, but only lasted thirty seconds.
I tried to break the chain. Tried to dislocate my shoulders. But I was trapped. I prayed to God and begged and begged, and the spirits had forsaken me, and time went by and the room stayed dark because I had no energy left to move. I screamed until my throat was hoarse and filled with the taste of warm blood.
I don’t know how long went by, it could have been thirty minutes, it could have been two hours, when I heard the manhole cover grinding back steel against steel and I went cold with fear all over. I kicked out my leg and the light flashed on and above the ladder it was dark, and I heard voices, but man or woman I couldn’t tell. And then a black leather shoe appeared on the first black rung, and then a black trousered leg, and then the other. I twisted and thrashed and desperately tried to break free as he came down with his back to me, the blades and muscles of his wide shoulders pronounced through his tight white shirt, then a thick neck, and black hair heavily gelled.
He stepped down onto the ground and turned. A whimper of fear came out from somewhere within me as his sly face broke into a sinister grin. The flat nose, the well-groomed appearance, the chiselled cheeks, the gel holding up the front of his dark fringe, The inspector. It was clear as I had saw him the day he’d walked through the hospital car park, wafting his collar as he got into his Mercedes, after being with Sanders in that room. My eyes did a double-take of the red brick sandstone walls- I was back at the hospital, somewhere on the grounds.
His malicious grin grew wider, baring his big, shining white teeth. His cold, calculating, brown reptilian eyes crawled up and down my body and sent a shiver up my spine. He slowly came closer, his big chest in his white shirt going in and out. Then he stopped about five yards away. He stood at first with his hands on his sides, then brought them behind his back. The eyes roamed slowly down my cuffed hands to my arms, to my face, lingered on my chest as he licked his lips, then wandered down my legs to my feet and jumped back to my face.
“Well, well, well. What have we got here?”
Chapter 70
M y life is over, I thought. All those times with dad, that I had been dealing with, came racing back to the front of my mind. The inspector watched me squirm, watched me cry, listened to my broken and desperate sobbing, and his greedy eyes devoured me all the while. His grin pinched into a tight, satisfied smirk. “Thought you could escape from me, huh?” His deep bass voice toyed mockingly.
The chain rattled above me. The metal clattered against the pipe. “That was a question. Look at me, Aisha. You thought you could escape?” He grinned victoriously. “We always find you. You can’t escape.” He laughed loud and jaunty, the echo sang back of the walls and earth.
He stood there waiting patiently in my suspense. The whiteness of the starched shirt and the gleaming brightness of his teeth were emphasized by his smooth black trousers and black shoes and the black earth and the dimness of the room. Where is Sanders? Where is Kev? Did they set this up? Are they coming too? I shuddered as his eyes glanced at the portable light then turned back to me. His smile reached out, savoring every moment. “Aw! Look at you. All wrapped up just for me. What did I do to deserve this, eh? I bet you’re a tight fit.” He paused to let the words sink in, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, watching my reaction with great pleasure. “Hahaha! Oh, yes! Squirm! Squirm, little petal! You can’t escape. Hahaha! Yes, that’s it! Scream! Scream! I love it when you all scream! Here, I’ll help you! AAAH! SOMEBODY HELP!”
The manhole cover above the ladder was still open, but I could see nothing but black from my angle of it. I kept screaming and he kept laughing. His arms came out from behind him and he wiped his forehead with one hand and dabbed the top of his fringe with the other. I screamed so hard I had a coughing fit. Blood filled my mouth again. I knew those screams were useless, but it was all I could do.
“Mmm, look at those legs. Yeah, you’ll be a tight fit. Not as tight as I’d have liked, but your daddy broke you in. Didn’t he, Aisha? Huh? Yeah, that’s right. I know. I know. Yes, you have a cry.” Still he remained five yards in front of me, savouring every moment and delighting in his power. I felt weak, crushed, feeble, powerless, and his eyes were drinking more and more strength with every few seconds as he seemed to get bigger and I seemed to get smaller. “Good girl. Keep crying. I knew your daddy. Me and him were good pals. Uh-huh! That’s right.
But… you killed him. You killed my friend.” He took a step closer. “He used to boast to me about you.” the inspector drawled slowly, “Did you know that? You were always his favorite. Out of all the boys and girls, you were always his favorite. Well, let’s see what all the fuss was about, shall we? Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill you. Not physically anyway. But I am going to enjoy you. A lot.”
His big hands unbuckled his belt. His trousers dropped to the black earth. I was overcome with nausea. Oh, God. Where is God now?! All the cruelty, rapes, tortures, murders, and it’s all supposed to happen for some fuckin
g reason? Happens for a reason so we can all fucking grow?! “Where are you, God? Help me, please! PLEASE!”
“Yes. Keep whimpering.” The inspector took another step. “Wrote that little letter, did you? Think you could get us all in trouble? Get me in trouble anyway. Yes, I fucked Hazel. Who wouldn’t fuck that? But what do you think happened? Huh?!
Nothing! My words go far. I’ve got friends in high places. So many friends in high places. I’m untouchable. Your dad and me- ah, so many good times. No evidence remains. We sorted that out. We’re careful. What?”
“It wasn’t me.” I croaked again. “It was someone else.” I rolled my eyes to the ceiling.
“I know. I know, petal. It was Harry. But you’re guilty by association. We’ll sort that little bastard out soon enough. It won’t take long to find him either- a freaky-looking bastard with a ten-inch ring around his neck. But first, my prize!”
His strong body marched forwards. The red walls spun around me. The black earth opened up. The powerlessness. The humiliation. I booted out with my right leg, but he caught it instinctively in his left arm. He laughed as he held the leg up high and thrust his midriff between me. I felt his big bones. His muscles. His dick hard through his boxers. A whiff of aftershave as he kissed my neck. Then those wet lips on my cheek. I snapped my teeth at him and he laughed delightedly and let me go and stepped back as I screamed again. My throat felt like it had ripped.
He unbuttoned his shirt and it hung like curtains exposing the middle of his strong chest. Then he slid his boxers down too. His dick leapt up as the tears ran down my face. Salt and blood mixed in my mouth. Pain was burning through every part of me.
The last scream came out like a wounded animal.
“HAHAHA! That’s it! You just keep trying to call for help.”
He pinned both my legs underneath his biceps. The pipe dug into my spine,
“I’m gonna fuck you harder than John ever did,” his hot breath hissed. “I’ll teach you for running away.”
My t-shirt tore and he wrenched it up above my head. His slimy lips pressed into my cheek. I was sobbing and sick and angry and scared, Where are you God?! I cried in my head. Please?!! Please! Help me!” And somewhere in another part of the world I knew some other girl was going through this too and I wasn’t alone. What God? What Spirit? All that connection I felt, and for what? Help! Please, help!”
The inspector moaned. His fingers trembled as he unzipped my jeans. I must have passed out, but I remember coming to seconds later and my jeans were being pulled over my feet, and my bra was already off, and behind his left shoulder someone else was coming down the ladder. Coming down quickly, but silently with rapid grabs on each rung. He was skinny. I saw brown, messy hair. It can’t be! I thought. It can’t be! And I was scared to look and give him away, I saw the flash of the knife in his hand as he turned from the ladder and crept up slowly holding a finger to his lips. And the inspector was too preoccupied, my jeans were wrestled off and both his hands went around my hips, when his eyes suddenly bulged in the sockets. “OOF!” he jerked forward and gasped into my face. The pupils stared at me in confused shock, he didn’t have a clue what was going on, and he turned to see Harry, and the knife plunge into his stomach, “YOU FUCKIN BAAASSTAAARD!!!” Harry screamed. His face was deformed with fury as the inspector collapsed to his knees and squealed like a pig and the thwuck, thwuck, thwuck of suctioned air pulled out from his stomach again and again. Harry’s black eyes had gone, he was possessed, the arm ploughed quickly again and again “YOU FUCKING ANIMAL! YOU FUCKKING ANIMAAAAL!” and I couldn’t look but I couldn’t look away and the blood was everywhere, and he grabbed the inspectors cock and sliced it off and held it up in front of the inspectors face, and the inspector reached out a hand for it while his other held a gushing wound in his chest. The blood spurted from his mouth. He looked like a terrified child, his eyes pleading for mercy. Thick red fountained up from the severed hole between his balls and he rolled back on the floor and his eyes were still wide but he was dead. Harry bent over him, launched the severed cock across the room and dove the knife down into the inspector’s neck. “ANIMAL! ANIMAAAL!” he screamed and his eyes were red from crying and frustration and the tears were welling up again. He was tormented and gone, and his knife arched up into the air then ripped down through the dead face, puncturing the cheek.
“HARRY!” I shouted.
He couldn’t hear me..
“HARRY!”
His eyes glanced towards me, unaware of anything. His breath heaved in and out. The blood covered his eyelids and most of his face. Then a glimmer of recognition slowly came back. He stared at the knife and dropped it and turned his palms over and stared at them too, and then at the body on the floor.
“Fuck. What have I done?!” he said. Then he jumped up and was over at me, pulling my jeans back on, pushing my top back down. He stepped back and his hand covered his mouth as he stared at me in horror. “Did he touch you?”
“No.”
“DID HE TOUCH YOU?”
“I SAID NO! You were just in time.”
He flinched and looked up at my wrists then went into the inspector’s pockets and found the key. He unlocked the cuffs and caught me as I collapsed down. The blood raced back into my hands but I could hardly feel them, could hardly feel anything but adrenaline.
“Can you stand? Can you walk?”
“Yes.” I said.
“C’mon. We have to go! I killed her too. I fucking killed her!”
“Who?!” I stumbled after him, up the ladder, out of the bunker, and onto the concrete tarmac under the black night sky. Bushes scattered the boundaries of the old road where we were, and Harry was making towards an old building that looked like one of the outbuildings of the hospital. “Who did you kill?!” I asked again, but then, as I paced forward trying to keep up, I saw her- lying lifeless on the ground, her long legs splayed out and her heeled shoes upturned, her face tilted up against the faint moonlight. The same rouged lips and foundationed skin, but she was paler than ever. The open eyes were full of fear, the throat slit.
Harry stopped and glanced at Sanders for a second then kept on going without looking back at me, “I had to! She wouldn’t tell me where you were! I had to! And, oh fuck. Oh fuck! What have I done?” His skinny legs paced the ground and I ran past the dead body and tried to keep up as he ran past the dark silhouette of the building on our right and along its wall, a dark wood on our left,
“Wait! Harry, wait!” I shouted.
“I CAN’T! C’MON!”
He ran towards and past another dark abandoned outbuilding, and then another, like we were in some derelict old part of a city. We cut through four of five of them till eventually an orange streetlight appeared and lighted the road. And I smelled the smoke first before I heard the commotion and the crackling and the smashing and felt the energy in the air. We came around the main building's front to see the left half of it ablaze with giant forked flames that were engulfing it all and flickering up into the starless night. Patients were pouring out in droves from the front door and the car park was half-full of the many who had already escaped and were watching the building burning quickly, their faces lit up with the glow. People in groups and by themselves were crying, few others were laughing or dancing manically, or huddled together horrified, and a window exploded from the centre and flames burst out from it. And I looked up and along to the left at our old ward and it’s many empty windows now filled with orange and red and blue and yellow when just then a man screamed and leapt out from one of the fourth-floor windows and dropped down like from the sky and smashed into the ground. Some people ran towards his unmoving body at the building's edge, others ran away, and then I spotted Dale’s Pete Townsend face looking on with horror along with five of the patients from our ward. There was Larry, there was Sandy, and three others I’d seen before, but my attention was diverted by Harry moving forward. “I HAVE TO GO IN!” he screeched, “I HAVE TO HELP THEM! I DID THIS!”
&n
bsp; And it all happened so quick, and I’m still trying to process it, but then at the open blue doors of the main entrance, Kev appeared with a concussed man draped over his shoulder. He laid him down outside and turned and ran back in, and Harry sprinted towards him and was almost at the doors. That’s when I saw the building explode, and the fire engines and police cars speeding up the hill.
Epilogue
I t has been almost eighteen months since it happened. Eighty-two people died in the fire. Fifty-six straight away, and twenty-six in the following weeks and months. Harry was one of them. With his third-degree burns he hung on until March, then he went. Before he passed, he told me what happened; about the crash, and the police, and following me down to the hospital, then breaking in and his mind snapping and torching the place.
When Alex crashed the car, the police had arrived two minutes later. Harry saw them pull up on the road, and crawled out from the back seat and watched from behind a tree, as the police pulled Alex out, and then me, both of us unconscious. But Alex was the only one that went to hospital. Harry said he went to the hospital in Inverness afterwards, and found him lying in bed, but I wasn’t there, and he couldn’t find me anywhere as much as he hunted around. He was terrified for me, he said, said he knew someone had got me, and he stole a car and hotwired it and drove all the way down to Sleepyhillock, the only place he could think that I would be. But he didn’t know what he could do when he got there, so he stopped at a petrol station on the way and bought a jerry can and two glass bottles of coke and a pack of cloths. He filled the jerry can up with the petrol then poured it into the coke bottles and doused two of the cloths and stuffed them inside the tops. Then he drove to the hospital and entered, went straight up to the ward and demanded to know where I was, but Sanders wouldn’t tell him, until he threw the first bomb into the common room and pulled her out by the hair with a knife at her throat. He said she kicked and screamed all the way as he dragged her down the stairs and all the way around the back where she eventually pointed him to the basement where I was being held, then he slit her throat. She had set it up- me and the inspector. And after me and Harry were out, and all of that happened, Kev died in the explosion too. All the gas canisters underground that powered that old hospital. All the wood paneling and old paper-filled walls. The whole building’s structure was about as flammable as you could get.
