by Edward Lee
There was a price to pay for that, and right now Gray was paying it.
He clasped his hands together, futilely. He hadn’t forgotten about the final strand of possibility. Kari Ann. Maybe she wouldn’t abandon him. Maybe—by the grace of God—she’d find a way to get him out of here.
Please, God, he prayed. I know I’ve been a lousy person and have offended your laws, but please, PLEASE forgive me. I’m a hypocritical chump, I KNOW that, but I promise if you can find some way to forgive me, I’ll make good. I’ll change my life, I swear. Let Kari Ann get me out of here and I SWEAR TO YOU, I’ll marry her and be the father of her child, and I’ll do EVERYTHING IN MY POWER to live a Christian life. I swear…
Gray sat against the wall, fallow in the muddy flavescent light. When he closed his eyes, he saw skiagraphic shapes that all seemed to eventually meld into ax forms. When he drifted off to sleep, he dreamed of being raped by devils. If he died during the dream, what would happen? Would he just stay there with the devils forever? If so, he knew he’d deserve it.
“Hey.” A nudge. “You asleep?”
Did he smell hot pumpkin in the dream?
“Tam fer dinner…”
When Gray opened his eyes, Kari Ann was kneeling next to him with the next bucket of pumpkin.
“Oh, Kari Ann…” Gray fell apart, hugging her. “I can’t take this anymore. You’ve got to help get me out of here. I swear, I’ll make you my wife. Everything I do will be for you, and I’ll be a father for your baby. I’ll never lie to you or cheat on you, I’ll devote my entire life to you.” And it all came pouring out. Gray clung to her, crying. “I promise, I promise—I even promised God. We’ll live life the way it’s supposed to be lived, and we’ll go to church and stuff like that. And as for your baby…” Shit, he remembered. The kid’s fucked up, got birth defects and a warped head…It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter to God, so why should it matter to Gray? He took her hand, squeezed it, still sobbing into her lap. “I make great money, Kari Ann. I’ll send your baby to the best special schools, I’ll get her the best possible care. I’ll be the father she never had.”
Kari Ann had tears in her eyes too. She stroked Gray’s cheek, unmindful of the nearly full bucket of diarrhea, unfazed by his body odor. “I know you’d do all those things, I kin see it in ya.”
“Then help me! All you’ve got to do is call the police!”
“Cain’t. Ain’t got no phone.”
Gray began to tremble.
“But here’s what I can do,” she began. She kissed him on the forehead. “I been thinkin’ ’bout it, an’ it’s real risky…but I’m gonna do it…”
Gray didn’t sleep the rest of the night. He was too excited, he was pumped. No, the lack of a phone would prevent Kari Ann from calling the police, but she’d told him what she was going to do. She wouldn’t need to call them; instead she’d go to them directly. Today, when her brothers thought she was hitchhiking to work, she was going to hitchhike to the police station instead. There was a county sheriff’s department only a few miles away.
Just be ready.
The way Gray saw it, God was going to give him a break, and Gray would keep his end of the bargain. It was time to give something back.
There was enough chain to let him just get to the window. The window wasn’t locked—why should it be? He was chained to the floor. He couldn’t climb out, of course, but—
I can sure as shit open it.
The wood had partly gone to rot; the frame had swollen. It took Gray until a few hours after sunup to work it free. Huffing and puffing, he kept pushing upward until it began to give. A few times he feared the window might pop out of the frame and land outside in the yard (that would’ve been the end) but luck—or God—stayed on his side. Gray pried the old window up a few inches, enough to be heard through if he shouted.
He didn’t know what time it was but he guessed it must be early afternoon when he heard the crunch of tires rolling over gravel. Earlier, Jory had dropped the dismembered remains of the redneck into the metal drum. Meanwhile Hull had applied the final coat of lacquer to Gray’s formerly black Corvette.
Every false hope occurred to Gray: the vehicle he heard coming up the weedy drive would just be the mailman, or some shady business associate of Jory and Hull’s. No one on the driveway would be able to see the horrific shenanigans going on in the yard, due to the fence. But Jory and Hull heard the vehicle, too. They both froze at once.
Then Gray’s heart sang. A county sheriff’s car stopped in front of the house.
A deputy sheriff got out. So did Kari Ann, from the driver’s side. Within the fence, Gray saw Jory and Hull peeking through the slats. They looked worried.
“Where?” the sheriff demanded of Kari Ann. “This sounds like a bunch of bull.”
“Up there!” Kari Ann wailed. “That’s where they’se got him chained up! In the attic! They’se been rapin’ him!”
Gray’s dream came true. Jory and Hull were scrambling in the fenced yard. And the cop?
He stood with his hands on his hips, staring right up at the window.
“Damn,” he said. “I think—I think I see someone there.”
“HEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!” Gray’s throat belted out the plea like a cannon shot. He waved frantically, then rammed his elbow into a glass pane, shattering it. The pieces flew out into the air.
“HELP ME FOR THE LOVE OF GOD PLEASE! I’VE BEEN IMPRISONED UP HERE!”
“I don’t believe it,” the cop said bewildered to Kari Ann. “Wait here. I’m going up…”
Then the cop drew his revolver and entered the house.
Gray’s adrenalin was practically dripping off his fingers. He stomped up and down, shouting, when he heard the cop’s footsteps racing upward. Gray glanced down in the yard again. There was no sign of the brothers. They’re already heading for the hills! he thought.
When the door burst open, the deputy sheriff stared, gun poised. “God almighty,” he muttered when he saw Gray standing there: chained, filthy, wearing just the soiled T-shirt and black socks. “It’s true…The girl wasn’t bullshitting. Those assholes have got you chained up here.”
Gray wanted to rush to the cop and hug him, but the chain wasn’t long enough. “Thank you thank you thank you! Jory and Hull—they’ve been keeping me up here for almost a week! They’re stealing cars and repainting them! And they’ve been…abusing me…”
“Well don’t you worry, fella—” the cop began.
Gray’s heart nearly stopped when the shadow entered the room from behind. Over the cop’s shoulder, Gray saw—
Hull.
He was grinning through bad teeth, stealthily stepping up from the doorway.
“Look out!” Gray bellowed, spit flying. “Behind you!”
The cop spun. “What the hell are you guys doing? You’ve got this guy chained up here?”
“That’s a fact,” Hull replied.
Shoot him! Shoot him! Gray thought.
“And you didn’t even tell me?” the cop went on. “What a bunch of selfish assholes. Bet you’ve been stickin’ him every night.”
“Yes siree, ever nat.”
“Hoggin’ all the ass for yourselves.”
“Well, shee-it, Bobby. We didn’t know you was inta boy-cherry. But now that we knows, youse kin help yourself any tam.”
“Fuck,” the cop grumbled and began to unbuckle his trousers. “I’m so horny I could fuck a hole in the wall.”
Hull winked at Gray. “Well that there’s yer hole.”
Gray’s soul felt like a stone transom whose keystone had just been knocked out by a hammer. The rest just crumbled down.
“Belly to wall, bitch,” the cop ordered. “I’m in a swivet, I need to come so bad.” No time even for hands and knees, the cop shoved Gray against the wall and prepared to fuck him standing up. He rubbed his bare groin against Gray’s buttocks, reaching around to pinch his nipples. “Yeah, I’m gettin’ hard quick. It’s been a while since I’ve had a good hell-for-l
eather ass-fuck.”
“Well, he’s a good ’un. Makes his asshole twitch whiles yer cock’s in him. Sucks damn good dick too, Bobby. Damn good…”
During the preludial molestation, Gray’s face was pressed against a window pane, and as his buttocks was thumbed open and spat on, he could see down into the yard.
“Looks like Kari Ann done fell for ya, City,” Hull said behind him. “Bet’cha promised to take her aways from here if she helped ya, huh? Jory’ll be punishin’ the dumb bitch presently. Cain’t have no shit like that. It’s a sad day whens yer own sister’ll betray ya. But how’s that fer some luck, City? Of all the cops she could’a ratted us too, she picks the one we’s in business with.”
Gray didn’t hear any more, as he was penetrated. Bile raced up his throat, and he bit down on the inside of his cheek so hard, his teeth clicked. One eye seemed to rove independently of the other, as if divorced from the outrage. It looked down into the yard and saw that Jory had already beaten Kari Ann to the ground. She looked up, screaming bloody mouthed. Jory was chuckling, throwing her baby up into the air, spinning it around like a ball of pizza dough. Eventually, he hook-shotted it directly into the metal drum, then began to hammer the lid on.
And Gray?
Gray was fucked in grand style. The only difference between being raped by Hull and being raped by this cop was singularly noticeable. The cop’s cock was bigger than Hull’s.
Gray felt stuffed from both ends. “Sheeeee-it!” Hull whooped, his penis burrowed in Gray’s mouth. Jory busied himself at the other end, with deft sodomy. “Gawd-damn, Hull! I’se swears this boy’s even tighter’n he was last nat!”
Gray tried to remove his psyche from the scene: it wasn’t his mouth sucking Hull’s penis, nor was it his rectum at the receiving end of Jory’s. Pretend it’s happening to someone else…
“Aw, yeah! I’se gonna dump me a fuck up this boy’s tail! I’se gonna come so much my spunk’ll be drippin’ out his nose!”
“Here comes supper, City,” Hull forewarned. Gray wasn’t sure, but the brothers seemed to climax simultaneously. He felt the warm gush deep in his bowel at the same moment Hull released a flabbergastingly large allotment of sperm into his mouth. Gray swallowed it, without hesitation this time. It slid down his belly like a long, hot worm. Then Gray’s hands and knees went out, and he collapsed procumbent to the floor.
Thanks a lot, God, he thought. Thanks a hell of a lot…
“Yeah,” Hull guttered. He gave his penis a final squeeze, perhaps for posterity. “I’se said it before’n I’ll’se say its again: this fella here is the best cock-suck I’se ever had.”
“Best cornhole too.” Jory gave a hick giggle, then withdrew his own reproductive architecture from Gray’s hindquarters. “Hope it don’t git worn out, now that Bobby’s in on the action.”
“Yes sir, Kari Ann shore brung us a winner this time. He sucks dick like a reg-ler champ, and he’s got a great car.”
Gray slid to the wall and sat up. “And that’s the scam, isn’t it? You make the girl lure the drivers back here, then you guys take over. You got a remake shop.”
Hull scratched his belly, then hitched his overalls up. “That’s right, City. We’s paint the cars all diff-urnt colors, then drives ’em up to our fence. And that purdy ’Vette’a yers? It’ll fetch us some fine scratch. Three, four grand at least.”
Even in his plight, Gray was appalled. “Three or four grand? That car cost sixty-three thousand dollars! You guys are getting ripped off.”
“Aw, we’s ain’t greedy here,” Hull said. “We likes ta keep things simple’n safe.”
Jory, yet again, was wiping his sullied genitals off with Gray’s silk shirt. “The fence takes most’a the risk, see. We just delivers the cars. He moves ’em ta buyers.”
“So how many have there been?” Gray saw no harm in asking. They were going to kill him anyway, so why wouldn’t they tell him? “How many other guys have you pulled this number on?”
Hull stroked his stubbled chin. “Over the years? Shee-it. Probably over a hunnert.”
“A hunnert’n fifty’s more like it,” Jory augmented.
“And way back here in the hills,” Gray added, “no one suspects a thing. The cars are repainted and resold. And that county sheriff probably keeps the heat out of here, helps cover your route to your fence. The bodies are never found.”
“Right again, City,” Hull asserted.
“An’ Kari Ann done tolt us ’bout yer little scheme. Promisin’ ta marry her, help her raise her kid. Shee-it, what’choo think we is, City. Stupid?”
Who was the stupid one?
Gray was dragged by the hair to the corner. Just as he realized what they were going to do, he snatched in a quick breath. Then—
plup!
—his head was quickly submerged into the bucket full of his waste.
“Down ya go, City. Blub, blub, blub.”
Gray was too exhausted to resist. He had no strength, nothing left in his muscles and nothing left in his heart. Were there bugs in his diarrhea? Little things seemed to be swarming in it, tickling his face, but Gray told himself it was just his imagination. He even came to grips with the circumstance now. They were going to kill him, they were going to drown him in his own diarrhea, but then it would all be over. He felt confident that God wouldn’t send him to hell after all of this.
His lungs expanded; soon they would burst. He doubted that he’d pass out before reflex forced him to inhale his first mouthful. But that didn’t matter, either. I’ll be dead in another minute, and you know what? I’m ready.
He sidled over, drenched, and gulped air like a grouper on a pier when they pulled him out. All those liquefied bowel movements dribbled down his face. When he realized that they’d pulled him out one heartbeat short of drowning, he actually yelled up at them: “Come on! Just kill me and get it over with!”
“Kill ya? Kill ya?” Jory said.
“Naw, that were just yer punishment fer fuckin’ with us,” Hull added, “plottin’ behind our backs’n such.”
“Yer diff-urnt, City. Youse the best we ever had.”
“No lie, the dang best.” Hull gave his crotch a squeeze. “I’ll be dagged-damned if I ain’t gittin’ hard again thinkin’ ’bout that sure-fire cock-suck mouth’a yers.”
“You knows, Hull?” Jory offered. “Youse’re right. I’se gittin’ hard again too. What say we have ourselfs another nut?”
Hull whipped it out. “Shee-it, yeah. Come on, City. Let’s make some more whuppie.”
“Aw, Jesus,” Gray groaned. His face dripped shit. Not again!
Yes. Again. Wearily, Gray crawled forward onto hands and knees, a human coffee table. His mouth engulfed Hull’s fattening manhood, and after only a moment of adroit fellatio, it turned hard as a billy club. Behind him, Gray felt the familiar wet splat as Jory expectorated into his buttocks and inserted a billy club of his own.
Hull gripped Gray’s ears as though they were handles. “This shore is the life, ain’t it, Jor?”
“Dag straight, Hull,” Jor agreed, pumping vigorously. He slapped Gray’s right buttock. “Come on, City. Squeeze that butthole like you do.”
Gray constricted his sphincter—
“Yeah! That’s it! Gawd-dag that feels good!”
Gray could only listen with his mouth jam-packed with Hull’s cock.
Hull chuckled, patting Gray’s head. “Shee-it, City. All them other fellas, we kill ’em lickety-split. But we ain’t gonna do that ta you.”
“We’s done decided!”
“We’s gonna let you live.”
Gray’s eyes widened.
Jory stroked away, plunging in and out. “That’s right, City. Me’n Hull’s already talked it over. We’d be out of our ever-livin’ minds ta kill you.”
“Cos yer so good is why.”
“It’d be a waste’a good boy-poon.”
“An’ good mouth-lovin’.”
“So’s instead’a killin’ ya like we done t
hem other fellas, we’s gonna keep ya here.”
“But don’t’s ya worry none. Kari Ann’ll bring ya up viddles’n water ever day.”
Hull chortled. “An’ me’n Jor, we’ll’se bring ya up our peters ever nat.”
Ever nat, Gray thought as he sucked. Every night.
“That’s right, City,” Hull said, caressing the top of Gray’s head. It was almost affectionate. “Youse gonna suck my dick. Ever nat.”
Then Jory: “And youse gonna take mine up yer cornhole.”
“You hear that, City? Ever nat.”
“That’s right, City. Ever nat.”
“Ever nat.”
“Sheeee-it! Ever nat fer the rest’a yer life!”
Gray got the message. He didn’t even bother listening anymore. He just pinched his sphincter again, and sucked.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Edward Lee is an American novelist specializing in the field of horror, and has authored 40 books, more than half of which have been published by mass-market New York paperback companies such as Leisure/Dorchester, Berkley, and Zebra/Kensington. He is a Bram Stoker Award nominee for his story “Mr. Torso,” and his short stories have appeared in over a dozen mass-market anthologies, including The Best American Mystery Stories of 2000, Pocket’s Hot Bood series, and the award-wining 999. Several of his novels have sold translation rights to Germany, Greece, and Romania. He also publishes quite actively in the small-press/limited edition hardcover market; many of his books in this category have become collector’s items. While a number of Lee’s projects have been optioned for film, only one has been made, Header, which was released on DVD to mixed reviews in June 2009 by Synapse Films.
Lee is particularly known for over-the-top occult concepts and an accelerated treatment of erotic and/or morbid sexual imagery and visceral violence. He was born on May 25, 1957, in Washington, D.C., and grew up in Bowie, Maryland. In the late ’70s he served in the U.S. Army’s 1st Armored Division, in Erlangen, West Germany, then, for a short time, was a municipal police officer in Cottage City, Maryland. Lee also attended the University of Maryland as an English major but quit in his last semester to pursue his dream of being a horror novelist. For over 15 years, he worked as the night manager for a security company in Annapolis, Maryland, while writing in his spare time. In 1997, however, he became a full-time writer, first spending several years in Seattle and then moving to St. Pete Beach, Florida, where he currently resides.
