by CJ Bishop
“My friends call me Barron.”
His narrowed eyes holding on Barron’s face, the cowboy asked chillingly, “What do others call you?”
Barron’s grin stretched. “Nothing. Everyone’s my friend. Everyone likes me.” He looked at the kids. “Especially these little beasts here. They love me. We get along real fine.” He winked and grabbed his crotch.
Kelly discreetly watched the cowboy.
Without a crack in his expressionless face, the man stated bluntly, “I don’t like you.”
“Well, maybe you just need to get to know me,” Barron drawled. “There’s a private room in the back where I test out the merchandise. Come on back and you and I could get to know each other real well.” His lips jerked with the invitation. This wasn’t the first time he’d propositioned a customer. Many took him up on it. To the naked eye, Barron was good-looking. To Kelly, he was the vilest creature on the face of the earth. Her eyes darted to the cowboy.
If any expression could be detected on the cowboy’s face, it was pure disgust.
“Suit yourself.” Barron shrugged. “But I bet your buddy here would like to get to know me.” He clasped the younger cowboy’s shoulder—and hit the floor seconds later, nailed in the face by the younger man’s elbow.
Kelly gasped, and her eyes bulged in shock. Even the other kids paused abruptly, startled by the sight of Barron on the floor.
“Fuck.” Barron grabbed his face as blood gushed through his fingers. “Motherfucker! You broke my nose!”
Kelly glanced at Olson. The older man just stared at Barron dryly. Unfazed.
“Put your filthy, disgusting hands on me again,” the young cowboy warned. “And next time it’ll be your fucking neck that gets broken.”
Most of the customers who came into this hellhole found Barron’s snark and vileness amusing, and his sexual invitations appealing. Not these men.
Kelly glanced back and forth between the two cowboys…uncertain what to make of them. The young cowboy caught her eye and she suddenly felt exposed, in the spotlight. She didn’t want to be seen, didn’t want these men to take her away from Raimi. Kelly turned her face into her arms and willed him to look elsewhere, but as she tried to hide in plain sight, she could feel the weight of his stare holding steady on her.
•♦•
This one girl seemed to be the only kid truly coherent and fully aware of what was going on around her. She huddled in her ball, arms covering her head, whimpering and sobbing.
You said I could see him. Please let me see him. Please—he needs me.
The despair in her words was haunting, chilling; who was she talking about?
Other than his warning to Barron, Axel hadn’t spoken. He took a step forward and addressed the older man who was clearly in charge. “What’s with the girl? What’s she so upset about?”
Off to his right, Barron crawled to his feet, still cupping his nose as blood dripped all over himself and the floor. He walked away on a swift stride, muttering curses at Axel.
“Nothing of consequence,” the man replied to Axel. “Kid brother’s on his deathbed.” He shook his head and shrugged. “The boy’s done for. He’ll be worm food by morning. But nothing wrong with the girl.” He grinned at Axel, his teeth stained dark yellow with bits of the nasty cigar wedged between them. “She catch yer fancy? You can test her out if you like.”
Standing close to Clint, he was awful tempted to grab the cowboy’s gun and blow this fucker’s head off. He turned his stare back to the girl. Kid brother’s on his deathbed. The girl was sobbing harder from the man’s words. He’ll be worm food by morning.
Axel nodded. “All right.”
Clint flinched at his answer and looked at him. Of course, he didn’t think Axel really meant to “try her out”, and as he held Axel’s stare, he began to understand.
The man seemed pleased by Axel’s answer and he stepped through the kids and reached for the girl, dragging her roughly to her feet.
“I got it,” Axel said stiffly, his hard stare ordering the man back. He approached the girl and took her arm. “Where’s the room?”
“She can show you,” the man snorted. “She’s one of Barron’s favorites.”
Axel held his tongue and silently urged the young girl to lead the way. Her skinny arms wrapped her skinny body, her narrow shoulders hunched forward as she sobbed uncontrollably.
•♦•
“I’m sure he’ll have no complaints.”
Clint looked at the man with the yellow teeth and greasy hair. “You and broken nose the only ones running this place?”
“And Vinny, the cook.”
Clint glanced at the sloppy mess on the kids’ plates. “Cook? You can call him that with a straight face when this shit is what he produces?”
“Oh, that’s just for the brood,” the man said. “Gotta economize and make the rations stretch as far as possible. It keeps them alive and doesn’t break the wallet.”
Fuck you, you piece of shit.
“How much are you asking a head?”
The man stroked his chin. “Five to eight hundred.”
“And you can ask that price with a straight face?” Clint muttered. “This is not quality merchandise.”
“If it was,” the man said. “I’d be asking a hell of a lot more. That’s the price. Take it or leave it. I don’t negotiate.” The phone rang in the other room and he moved toward the door. “Feel free to inspect the merchandise.”
The putrid odor in the room had Clint queasy as fuck. He’d encountered some horrid smells in his time but honestly couldn’t think of any that had been worse than this. These kids and the staff lived with it every day and probably didn’t even smell it anymore.
Clint stood unmoving, his hard eyes passing over the children. They all wore the same attire; plain white gowns. White was Clint’s assumption. The material was so fucking filthy it was hard to determine the original color.
He stepped forward and sank to his heels before a small boy of about nine or ten. The child sat stone-still, gripping his tin plate, the nasty goop smearing his hands and face and front of the dirty gown. Clint swallowed hard and reached out, gently lifting the boy’s face. His eyes were glazed and only minimal signs of life lurked behind the hazy film.
“Hold on, son,” Clint whispered. “We’re gonna get you out of here.”
The boy didn’t acknowledge his words, just clutched his plate tighter.
•♦•
Kelly led the man into the small room with the one twin bed and a wall rack on which hung a leather strap and handcuffs. Barron got off on beating them before and even during the rape.
The young cowboy closed the door then faced her. She moved to the bed and huddled on the thin dirty mattress. She wouldn’t fight him; fighting just made it worse. He looked all around the room and along the ceiling. “Are there any security cameras in here?”
“I-I don’t know,” Kelly whispered on a sob. “I don’t…I don’t think so.”
He nodded and walked over to the bed and sat down. “What’s your name?”
Kelly frowned; no one ever asked her name. Why would they? “Kelly,” she mumbled.
“I’m Axel.” He held out his hand and Kelly stared at it in confusion, then tentatively shook. “Tell me about your brother. How bad is he?”
Kelly thought she’d misheard him. “What?”
“The man out there said he was on his deathbed. Is that true? Is he that sick?”
Her chin began to tremble, and she nodded. “He…he can barely breathe. I-I know Barron laid him down in the back room. He can’t breathe when he lays down.” She didn’t know why she was telling this man. Why should he care?
“Do you know where he is?” Axel asked. “Your brother. Do you know what room he’s in?”
“I-I think so.” She looked at him anxiously. “Why do you want to know?”
“Can you take me to him?”
“But…why?”
The young cowboy took her hand and he
ld it between his warm palms. “Because I don’t want your brother to die. I want to help him.” He squeezed her hand gently and for the first time…she noticed the tears in his eyes. “And you. All of you.” He stood up, drawing her with him. “We’re shutting this place down and taking you kids out of here…to someplace good and safe.”
Kelly tried to comprehend his words but they seemed too good to be true. Nothing good ever happened here, not for the kids trapped in this hell. Her vision blurred as fear and hope went to war in her mind.
•♦•
“Take me to your brother,” Axel said again as the girl stared at him in shock, tears streaming down her face. If the boy was as bad off as they said, they couldn’t waste any time. He prayed they weren’t already too late.
Kelly blinked and nodded. They left the room, moving cautiously through the halls. Axel kept his eyes and ears alert for Barron; he didn’t know where that fucker had gone off to.
“How many people work here?” he asked quietly.
The girl glanced at him. “Just Olson, Barron, and the cook, Vinny. There used to be one more—Jack—but he just stopped showing up all of the sudden. I-I think he was going to go to the cops about this place, but then…he just disappeared.”
“What do you think happened to him?”
Kelly remained quiet a moment, then whispered, “I think they killed him.”
That would be Axel’s deduction.
They ventured deeper into the orphanage and Kelly indicated a room up ahead. “I-I think it’s that one.”
They moved faster and slipped into the room. Axel stopped short as a blast of arctic air hit him in the face. The windows were open, and a frigid breeze gusted into the room. Just when he thought the horror of the situation couldn’t get any worse—he saw the dead bodies. Kids bodies. At least four, maybe five, piled in a heap by the wall beneath the open window where the icy air kept them chilled, preventing decomposition.
“What the fuck…” Axel felt caught in a nightmare realm; how could it be anything else? This depth of horror couldn’t be happening in the real world. No fucking way.
“Raimi!” Kelly cried, snapping Axel from his horrified daze. She ran to a bed at the far end of the room where a small child lay. Silent and still. “Raimi!” the girl gathered him into her arms and tried to wake him. “Raimi, please wake up!”
Axel went to her and she looked at him fearfully. “Let me see him.” Axel checked for a pulse.
Kelly covered her mouth, choking on sobs.
“He’s still alive,” Axel murmured, finding a faint heartbeat. “But he needs to go to the hospital now. I don’t know how much longer…” He didn’t finish the sentence and started to scoop the child into his arms when the door swung open.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?” Barron came into the room, his face swollen and eyes bloodshot. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Taking him out of here,” Axel stated. “He needs medical attention.”
“Fuck him,” Barron snapped, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “You’re not buyers—who the fuck are you guys?” He clenched his fists as he moved forward threateningly. “You fuckers trying to pull a fast one on us, is that it? What’re you—fucking cops?”
Axel laid the boy on the bed and faced Barron. “I’ll tell you what we are, motherfucker,” Axel murmured. “We’re your worst fucking nightmare. And you’re going find that out real soon. But right now, I don’t have time for your shit.”
•♦•
Kelly held her little brother upright in her arms and scooted up to the head of the bed, further away from the two men. What if Barron beat him? Raimi would die. Axel had smashed his face once, but he hadn’t been expecting it. Could he win a fight?
“You’re hardly more than a kid yourself,” Barron observed. “What are you—twenty-one, twenty-two? You think you can kick my ass?”
“No thinking about it,” Axel replied with enough confidence to ease some of Kelly’s fears.
“Guess we’ll see, won’t we-”
Kelly barely saw Axel move before Barron was on the floor again, Axel on top of him, fists smashing down like battering rams. Suddenly, Axel had a gun in his hand, the tip of the barrel grinding into Barron’s forehead. “I’d love to put a fucking bullet in your diseased brain,” he growled through clenched teeth. “But that’s too good for you.” He cracked the butt of the weapon across his temple, knocking Barron out cold. He quickly dragged him to the closet, stuffed him inside, then wedged the door with a chair. “I’ll be back for you later, motherfucker.”
Kelly stared at Axel in stunned silence.
“Sorry you had to see that,” he mumbled and hurried over to the bed, lifting Raimi into his arms.
“I’m not,” Kelly murmured.
Axel smiled small. “You’re a tough kid.”
Swallowing thickly, Kelly shook her head as fresh tears welled. “Not so much.”
“I disagree,” Axel said and ushered her out of the freezing room.
Chapter 18
Clint was alone with the kids when Axel returned, an unconscious boy in his arms and the girl by his side. He took note of Axel’s scraped and bloodied knuckles and suspected he’d encountered Barron somewhere along the line.
“Where’s the other one?” Axel asked urgently.
“Taking a call in the other room.” Clint looked at the child who, at first glance, didn’t seem to be breathing.
“We need to get him to the hospital now,” Axel said. “He’s barely breathing, and his pulse is weak.” His face tightened. “We don’t have time to wait. Take that guy out. I knocked out Barron and locked him in a closet.”
“Go,” Clint told him. “Get the boy to the hospital. I’ll take of things here.”
“Alone?” Uncertainty filled Axel’s eyes.
“I can take care of myself,” Clint assured and kissed him quick. “Now get going.”
Axel started for the door when the other man suddenly reappeared. “Hey…what the fuck’s going on? Where’d you get that kid?” He came forward cautiously, glancing between Clint and Axel. “What is this?”
Clint walked forward. “Not what you think, motherfucker.” The gun was in the man’s face before he could react. “Go,” he ordered Axel. “I’ll call Cochise and Cruz, have them meet me out here. You just get that boy to the hospital.”
Axel nodded and motioned to the girl, then paused. “Barron is in the back room where we found the boy. There’s…dead bodies in there. Kids. Barron’s in the closet, the door wedged close with the chair.” The horror and anguish in his eyes cut Clint to the core; if he’d known it would be this bad, would he have brought Axel along?
Axel and the girl left.
“Barron…?” the man whispered. “What did he do to Barron? Who are you?”
“Believe me,” Clint muttered. “You don’t want to know.” He looked around. “Where do you spend your time in this place? Because I know it isn’t in here, freezing your ass off with the kids. You have someplace warm, don’t you?” The man didn’t answer, and Clint dragged the hammer back. “Show me.”
The man’s defiance cracked, and he had Clint follow him back through the door to the hall that they’d entered through. He led the way past the desk that sat across from the outside entrance door and into a medium-sized living room with comfortable furniture, carpeted floor, and a large fireplace that popped and crackled with roaring flames. And the room was warm. Very warm.
“You worthless pieces of shit,” Clint bit out sharply. “How fucking hard would it have been to give the kids a warm room? Keep them in clean clothes? Feed them food fit for humans?”
“I told you before,” the man mumbled. “We have to economize.”
Clint’s finger pressed against the trigger, aching to paint the walls with the fucker’s brains. But he couldn’t bring himself to let him off that easy, not after the hell he’d created for these kids. “Is the cook in the kitchen?”
“Yeah.”
“Take me there.”
In the entrance room, Clint stopped long enough to yank the phone cord from the wall and the phone itself. He took out his knife and sliced it in half and used one half to tie the man’s hands behind his back, then rolled up the second half and stuffed it in his pocket. The man grunted in pain when Clint twisted the cord extra-tight, pinching off blood flow. His face twisted in agony and Clint pushed him forward, down the hall again to the huge room that housed the kids.
“Fucker,” Clint murmured callously. “You haven’t begun to know what real pain is.”
•♦•
Axel sped along the icy highway as fast as he could without endangering their lives. The girl held her brother in her lap and whispered to him non-stop. The child’s breath was quickened and short, and sounded like someone blowing bubbles in their drink—but at least he was breathing. But his sister couldn’t wake him up and at times he went so quiet that Axel thought he’d stopped breathing.
“Please don’t die,” Kelly cried softly against his stringy hair. “Please, Raimi, you’re all I have. Don’t leave me, sweetheart, please…”
The girl didn’t think she was tough, but Axel had seen tough kids. Had lived with two of the toughest kids he would ever know, and this girl was definitely one of the tough ones.
Axel dug out his phone, keeping his eyes on the highway, and made a call. “Devlin,” he said when the line picked up. “It’s Axel. I need you to listen. I’m on my way to the hospital with a very sick child. He’s barely breathing, lungs sound like they’re filled with water, and he’s burning up with a fever.”
“When he was awake,” Kelly offered. “He said his chest hurt really bad, especially when he coughed.”
Axel relayed the bit of information. “I need you to be there, ready to take him in as soon as we arrive. I’m not…I’m not sure how much longer he’s going to last.”
“It sounds like a critical case of pneumonia. His lungs are filled up and surrounded by fluids, which is causing the pain in his chest and his inability to breathe properly. He needs to be treated immediately. How far away are you?”
