Resistant Box Set

by Perrin Briar

  Then it was Dana’s turn. The slop piled into her food bowl. It looked like a darkly-colored combination of oatmeal and vomit. It stank with an unfamiliar, rancid odor. Neither Hugo or Dana were going to eat it, but the other residents of the basement appeared quite happy to dig in.

  Dana decided to try her luck one more time. What did she have to lose? After all, how could her situation possibly get worse?

  “Olga, please let us out of here,” Dana said. “Whatever you think we’ve done, I can promise you, we didn’t do it. If you let us go you’ll never see us again, I swear.”

  Dana wasn’t joking. Once she got out of this place she would never set foot in it again. She would happily leave the others here to rot. It was their responsibility to free themselves, not hers.

  Olga paused, and then placed the slop bucket on the floor. She took a step closer. She leaned over slightly to get a better look at Dana’s face.

  “It going to be fun, making you beg,” Olga said. “The harder they are to break, the more pleasure it is. I get ‘please’ from you already. I wonder how far you will go if I let you.”

  “I’ll never beg,” Dana said through gritted teeth. “And I’ll enjoy watching you die.”

  Olga smiled.

  “Strong word for girl trapped in cage she cannot escape,” she said. She waved a hand. “Words. They nothing without action. There is nothing you can say that I not hear before.”

  Olga had shifted close to the cage, almost nose to nose with Dana. This was Dana’s chance. The woman had made the mistake of getting too close.

  Dana lashed out, thrusting her hand through the hole, grasping at the woman, but the old lady was ready, and hopped back, out of reach. Dana continued to strain, pressing her face to the wire cage in an attempt to grab her.

  Olga chuckled.

  “Predictable,” she said. “You think you first to try grab me? You not even fastest.”

  She tutted.

  “Such disappointment,” she said.

  Dana gnashed her teeth. She glared at the old hag and imagined what she would look like with a dozen undead wrapped around her. Dana would enjoy watching that, she thought.

  Olga picked up her bucket and poured the contents into the remaining feeding trays. Then she scaled—slowly—back up the stairs and through the door, closing it, and casting the room into darkness once again.

  “You shouldn’t do that,” a voice beside Dana said.

  It wasn’t Hugo, but from Dana’s other side.

  The boy was huge, a fat tub of lard, his flesh pressed against the squares of the wire cage that contained him. Dana wondered if he could actually get out now. Clearly he hadn’t been this size when he’d gone into his cage. His clothes were torn around the seams from his ballooning weight.

  “It’s never good to make her angry,” the boy said. “If you upset her, you’ll never get out of here.”

  He put his hand into the slop and spooned it into his mouth.

  “You should eat yours,” he said. “Otherwise flies will come and you’ll never get any peace. Are you going to eat it?”

  “No,” Dana said.

  “We all say that at the beginning,” the boy said. “But then we get hungry, really hungry. Too hungry not to eat. And so we do. Until then, can I eat your food?”

  “Sure,” Dana said.

  The fat boy reached out, but his arms were too short. Dana had to spoon the slop into the boy’s outstretched chubby hands. She hated the smell, the texture of it. And the fact the boy was licking his fingers to get all the food into his fat gut. But he might have information for her, something she could use to spring herself out of there.

  Dana almost hurled. She thought about burgers and Sloppy Joe’s, but the word ‘sloppy’ didn’t sit well with her stomach either.

  “What’s your name?” Dana said.

  “Dexter,” the boy said.

  “I’m Dana, this here is Hugo,” Dana said.

  “Hi,” Hugo said, though from his angle, he must not have been able to see Dexter, which was quite a feat.

  “I don’t know how you can eat that gruel,” Hugo said.

  “It’s better than it looks… or smells,” Dexter said. “Or maybe you just get used to it.”

  Dana’s tray of gruel was almost gone already. Dexter set about methodically cleaning every inch of his own food bowl.

  “Plus, it’s the only way out of here,” Dexter said.

  “What do you mean?” Dana said.

  “She comes down here every now and then,” Dexter said. “She chooses one of us to take back up with her. They never come back. She sets them free.”

  Sure, Dana thought. And I’m a sugar plum fairy.

  “You’ve been in here since the apocalypse started?” Dana said.

  “Apocalypse?” Dexter said with a deep frown.

  Dana had her answer. To not know the apocalypse was happening was to have not been out of this room for the past few weeks. Dana wouldn’t add to the boy’s woes. He didn’t need to know that even if he did get out of here, he was unlikely to survive anyway. Still, Dana would have chosen that life over this one. Freedom was too valuable to sacrifice for anything anyone else could give her.

  “The old lady likes it when we behave ourselves,” Dexter said. “Keep quiet, eat our food. Some of the kids have been here even longer than I have.”

  “How long is that?” Dana said.

  “Oh, you lose track after a while,” Dexter said. “Time doesn’t mean much down here. But when I got here, I was skinny stick thin.”

  Dexter turned to one side, slightly curled up. The dim light caught the green of his shirt.

  “You’re a boy scout?” Dana said.

  “Junior Patrol Leader,” Dexter said. “We were canvassing the neighborhood, finding people with odd jobs for the scouts to come back and do for badges.”

  “We?” Dana said.

  “Me and my sister,” Dexter said. “She was in the Girl Scouts. We teamed up.”

  “Where is she now?” Dana said.

  “The old lady took her upstairs,” Dexter said, a smile stretching his enlarged features. “She’s free.”

  “How did you come to be in here?” Dana said.

  “We also used to sell cookies door-to-door,” Dexter said. “A kind old lady used to always buy a box each from us. She always talked to us, making jokes, and asked us to come inside to rest, to have a drink. But we were busy, and had already brought our own drinks.

  “Then one day she invited us in out of the rain, and we agreed. Why wouldn’t we? She wasn’t really a stranger. She was kind, unlike most people. She put something in the tea, or maybe the cakes. Or both. Either way, we woke up in these cages.”

  “How did your sister get out?” Dana said.

  “She ate,” Dexter said. “And ate and ate and ate. She’s unstoppable when she’s got something in mind that she wants. She got fat, and the woman took her out of here. My sister, Cherry, said she would get help, would tell someone where I was and spring me out of here.”

  “But no one came,” Dana said. “That’s what I’m trying to do. Trying to get to my sister to rescue her. She was taken from me. I thought I knew where she was kept, but when I got there, she was gone. And that woman over there, sleeping, she knows where she is. If I can get her to a hospital, she will be able to tell me where.”

  “I’m sorry,” Dexter said. “But the only way out of here is to eat. The woman thinks that by making us big, she’s making us stronger, and we’ll be ready to face the world. So long as we’re under her thumb, we have no choice.”

  “Would you say you’ve been in here longer than the others?” Dana said.

  “Yes,” Dexter said. “Besides Vanessa. ”She’s been here longer than me.”

  “You don’t need to be here forever,” Dana said. “What if we could help you get bigger, faster?”

  “How?” Dexter said.

  “We’ll feed you all our food,” Dana said. “Both me and Hugo. Soon, you’ll be mu
ch bigger than everyone else in here, and you’ll be chosen.”

  “Yes,” Dexter said. “Yes, that could work. My only real competition right now is Vanessa, across the room. She doesn’t move or make a sound in case she uses up calories.”

  “Wow,” Dana said flatly. “She’s a real Olympian.”

  “I even heard the woman acting surprised once, because there was no waste to clean off Vanessa’s cage floor,” Dexter said.

  Dana felt sick, her stomach threatening to heave.

  “Let us help you,” she said.

  “What do you want in exchange?” Dexter said.

  “When she comes to get you, you push her against my cage,” Dana said. “I’ll get the keys off her, let myself out and rescue you.”

  Dexter looked horrified.

  “I can’t do that,” he said.

  “Why not?” Dana said.

  “What if she puts me back in here?” Dexter said. “What if she decides to leave me in here forever after that?”

  “Then make it look like an accident, like you stumbled into her,” Dana said.

  “There are no accidents with the old lady,” Dexter said. “Not in her book. No. She’ll let me go, and then I’ll go get help and come back to rescue you.”

  Dana looked Dexter over. He clearly meant well, and she genuinely believed he would at least make the attempt to rescue them, but he was fat and slow and wasn’t used to the new world now. He’d be dead within ten minutes.

  “You’ll come rescue us, like your sister?” Dana said.

  She regretted saying it the moment it was out of her mouth. Dexter’s face folded in upon itself with the onset of tears.

  “I’m tired,” Dexter said. “I’m going to sleep now. Sleep is the only escape you can expect if she doesn’t pick you.”

  Dana stared for a while into the blank space that Dexter had retreated into, but said nothing more after that.

  Chapter Eighteen

  DANA LEANED her forehead against the bars of her cage. There was nothing worse than being stuck in a cage like this for Dana.

  Max was out there somewhere. She was waiting for her. She would be looking out the window and wondering why Dana wasn’t there for her yet. The thought brought a hot thick wad to the back of her throat.

  “Hey,” Hugo said.

  Dana shifted away from him. She didn’t want him to see her when she was upset. She always felt embarrassed when her emotions were exposed for all to see.

  “Are you okay?” Hugo said.

  “Yes,” Dana said. “I’m fine. Fine.”

  “We’ll get out of here,” Hugo said. “You’ll see.”

  Dana felt something on her lower back. She leapt away from it. Her immediate thought was it must have been a rat. All this food would attract the worst vermin.

  When she looked back, she saw it was just Hugo, having reached out to touch her. Dana glared at him, and Hugo’s smile, what he had offered her as comfort, melted.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  Dana’s rage was visceral. She felt useless, powerless. She wanted to tear through the cage, rip it to smithereens, wanted to pick up the pieces and jam them in the woman’s eyes. She wanted to-

  Dana took a deep breath, relaxing and calming herself. Logic began to filter through the cloud of rage like a developing thunderbolt. She knew in her heart of hearts that none of this was really Hugo’s fault. It was Olga’s, pure and simple. She locked them in these cages. She fed them gruel. It was her, and her alone.

  It was also her own fault. How could she have been so stupid? She swore to herself that, should she get out of here alive, she would never make the same mistake again. Not ever.

  Debbie was still unconscious in her cage. She shifted, moving a little when her body needed to, but still hadn’t regained consciousness yet. Dana dreaded to think how little time she had left.

  “How are you holding up?” Dana said.

  “Not bad,” Hugo said. “As well as can be expected, anyway.”

  “What was it you wanted to tell me before, when we were in the university basement?” Dana said.

  Hugo blinked. He looked surprised, and then embarrassed about the question. His was a face that found it difficult to hide emotions. Dana could read them like an open book.

  “It can wait,” he said finally.

  Dana frowned. If he couldn’t tell her now, then when was the right time? Her train of thought was derailed when the door at the top of the stairs creaked open on rusty hinges.

  Olga descended the steps like a dark angel of death, haloed by the light from the house. She clutched the same bucket she’d used that morning, or evening. It was difficult to tell what time of the day it was down here.

  Dexter sat up in his cage, difficult to peer over his rotund belly.

  Olga dumped the food into each of the cages’ food troughs. She didn’t take care not to spill it. Some splattered Dana’s arm. As she made her round, Olga eyed each of the prisoners in their cages, weighing up, analysing.

  She smiled when she came to Dexter’s cage. He smiled right back. It was a dark, sinister look, one that Dana never wished to see again. Stockholm Syndrome, she thought. Dexter, if not loved, then at least cared for this woman. Or perhaps it was veiled fear. She couldn’t tell.

  In the woman’s free hand was a black leather dog collar and leash. Tucked into her belt was her pistol. She paused momentarily at a cage on the opposite end of the room, to the left of the staircase.

  “Very good, Vanessa,” Olga said. “You too, Roy. Too many to choose from today. Too many great hardworking individuals. Good boys and girls. Soon you’ll all be strong enough to head out into the world. But you can’t all leave together. Today I think… Yes, I think today it will be your day, Dexter.”

  Dexter whimpered. He sounded like a puppy who could hardly believe his luck. He would be let out to run after all these days of rain and freezing weather.

  Olga crossed the room and slid the collar through the bars. Dexter took it with relish and wrapped it around his neck. He struggled. It was too small.

  The keys made an indentation in Olga’s pocket. Dana wanted to reach out, to grab for them, but she daren’t. There was no way Olga wouldn’t feel Dana taking it.

  “The collar is barely big enough to wrap around your neck, is it, Dexter?” Olga said. She sounded like she was salivating. “Give it to me.”

  Dexter handed the collar back to the old crone, a look of doubt on his face. Perhaps he wasn’t going to be chosen after all.

  Olga used her knife to cut a fresh hole in the leather strap, at the very end. She handed it back to Dexter, who could now put it on.

  “Any bigger and I’d have to get a new collar!” Olga said.

  Dexter came to the entrance of the cage on all fours, waiting obediently as Olga reached down to attach the lead to his collar. Olga only reached for her key when she had to unlock the cage door. It rattled as she slipped it into the lock and turned it.

  Dexter walked on all fours, stomach almost dragging along the floor. He walked with confidence, purpose… Until he got stuck, jammed in the doorway.

  Olga chuckled.

  “Too big for cage too, Dexter!” she said. “Come on, pull you out. Get out, or I pick someone else.”

  Olga pulled on the leash as Dexter attempted to pull himself out. His stomach was jammed in tight. But not that tight, Dana thought.

  She could see his arms were indeed straining, but not in the direction Olga was pulling. His muscles were working in the opposite direction, holding himself inside the cage.

  But why? Dana thought. A moment ago he had been thrilled to get out of the cage.

  And then she saw the half-glance he gave her out the corner of his eye.

  Dana realized his plan.

  “Come on!” Olga said, moving up beside him, between his and Dana’s cages.

  The keys were clutched in Olga’s hand now. Dana would never be able to take the keys from her without her noticing.

  Olga moved
back out in front of the struggling Dexter and, at the perfect time, he released his grip. Dana swore she could almost hear the Pop!

  He flew in the direction of the woman, knocking her off her feet. She dropped the key and it rasped on the floor.

  Olga saw red. She sprang to her feet, showing a strength far removed from her years, and unleashed herself upon Dexter. She whipped him with her legs and feet. She may have been old, but she still had some spring chicken left in her.

  “Idiot!” she screamed. “You could hurt me! You know what happen if I get hurt and no doctor? That what you want? For me to hurt?”

  She fueled her own flames of anger and beat Dexter’s form mercilessly, screaming foreign words that did not sound like they were describing a rose garden.

  One perk of having so much fat was the cushion and protection it afforded. Olga’s wave of attack would have less effect on him than someone without the fat. Not one fellow inmate uttered so much as a word in protest.

  Olga stopped only when she was out of breath. Dexter was a bleeding, heavily welted mess. Olga wiped her face with her hands and through her hair.

  “No problem,” she said, the half-crazed smile returning to her face. “No harm done. No matter, no matter. Everything is okay.”

  She turned, glancing at the floor. The keys were close to Dana’s cage, easily within reach. She could have grabbed them at any time if she wanted. But evidently, she hadn’t. Olga spat a smile at her, a twisted thing that curled one side of her face.

  “I see you’ve learnt not to snatch, not to attempt an escape,” Olga said. “You might turn out to be a good girl after all.”

  She tapped the top of Dana’s cage with the tip of a long fingernail. It rattled the wire. Dana did not shy back, did not avert her eyes. She just stared at Olga, meeting her gaze with a level look.

  Olga smiled, pleasantly surprised to find the look of a fighter in her cages. It was no challenge to defeat someone who gave up easily. She preferred someone with some defiance. She was fortunate then, that she had Dana.

  Olga led Dexter across the room with the lead. It made Dana sick to see the jealousy written across the remaining prisoners’ faces. They belonged to this place, to Olga. They were hers.