Her family. Alex looked into her eggs as tears threatened. Her babies, Billie and Henry, had no idea where their mother had gone. Alex was so thankful to know that her brother and sister would take care of them and keep them safe always along with Easton and Candace, the teenagers she adored. They had only been together for a short time. She wanted more of that. More time to teach them, become a family unit, know them. They were such good kids and she knew they would stay at Billie and Henry's side. Nothing could break her family unit. Not even her death.
"What's wrong, girl?" Coral asked, breaking into Alex's thoughts.
"My name is Alex. Not girl."
Shrugging her shoulders Coral said, "Doesn't matter. The Noble Lord will name you as he sees fit."
"My name is Alex. And it'll stay Alex."
"Say what you will. Everyone breaks," Coral said.
"With your help, I suppose," Alex replied.
"I have nothing to do with that."
"No? Seems you get the merchandise ready for sale. I'm sure girls come in here and see you, this grandmother looking figure. They get a shot of hope, thinking there's no way you could hurt them. But really, you're just plumping up the meat," Alex said.
As she spoke, Coral narrowed her eyes. She didn't like Alex calling her out. Alex just smiled. There was no joy behind the smile, only hatred. She wouldn't fall into complacency, no matter how well Coral fed her. She knew the place the woman held in the organization. The Noble Lord held her, but without chains or locks on her door. She stayed willingly. And helped the devil himself.
"Where are you from?" Coral asked.
"None of your business."
"Do you live safely? Have you had to do things you regret to survive?
"Nothing I can't live with. Can you say that?" Alex asked.
"I'm still alive. I can't change what I've had to do," Coral said.
A knock at the door put a stop to their conversation. Alex again wondered what position Coral held with the Noble Lord that afforded her such respect like not barging into her space. Coral turned and opened the door enough to look at the visitor. A hushed conversation followed, and Alex strained to hear what was being discussed. Coral shook her head making a tsking sound, clearly not agreeing with what was being requested.
"You can deal with his anger later," Coral replied as she slammed the door in the person's face.
She then turned to Alex, inspecting her again. Rifling through her drawers and hanging garments, Coral pulled out an assortment of items. She laid them on the couch next to Alex. She then went to the stove and placed a pot over the burner. While she messed with the bottles of perfumes, soaps, and makeup, Alex looked at the clothing sitting next to her. She could feel heat in her cheeks as anger flowed. The garments were barely enough to call clothing. Pieces missing, lace, ties, and leather seemed to be the general theme. Alex wasn't overly modest about her body, she stayed in shape. But how she chose to present it was one hundred percent her choice.
Alex couldn't touch the food in front of her any longer, feeling sick about what process was starting. Coral pulled a large metal tub near the stove and motioned to Alex. Alex didn't obey, just looked at the woman.
"Let's go. Time to get cleaned up," Coral said.
"I'd rather not."
"It's not really a choice."
"What happened to waiting for the Noble Lord to come back?" Alex asked, hoping to stall until she could escape the nightmare.
"Plans change around here all the time. You need to be cleaned up and ready for tonight," Coral said.
"What's tonight?"
"You might call it orientation," Coral replied.
"I'll pass," Alex said. She sat back into the couch with her arms crossed in front of her.
Coral sighed, annoyed with Alex's stubborn tactics. Without another word, she went to the door and opened it. She motioned to someone outside and a guard entered. His gun immediately trained on Alex.
"She needs some motivation to comply," Coral said.
The man didn't say anything. It was a well-rehearsed action. He was used to dealing with the women that fought the process. He moved to Alex's side and pointed his handgun, which Alex identified as a Glock G19 with a modified grip. She wondered absently who he stole the gun from. The gun rested against Alex's temple as she glared at Coral.
"Now, will you get over here before he has to shoot you," Coral said.
"I don't think he will. The Noble Lord likes his pets," Alex replied.
Alex didn't have much warning as the butt of the gun struck her across the jaw. She was knocked into the couch. It only took her a moment to recover, despite the stars she was seeing. As she shot to her feet, Alex had to rein in her pain and anger. She wanted to strike back. But when she turned to the man, his Glock was trained on her face. His eyes willed her to step out of line. He wanted to shoot her, would enjoy it, relish it. Alex wouldn't give him that satisfaction. She took deep breaths, working to bring her heart under control.
"He likes his pets, but he doesn't care about marks," Coral said. The gunman grinned at Alex then. She gritted her teeth and stared back, her eyes promising the man pain when she had the chance to get free.
"Just come here and get cleaned up. Then we'll see about putting something on your face, so you aren't too bruised for the Noble Lord," Coral said.
Alex knew she didn't have a choice. She walked woodenly to the space next to the stove. Coral bent and removed Alex's boots and socks. She turned to the gunman that was watching and shoo'd him back out the door, as if she knew Alex had reached a point of not resisting any longer. Once the man was gone, Coral motioned for Alex to remove her pants. She stood for a moment, staring at Coral. The woman just raised her eyebrow in challenge and Alex unbuckled her belt and unbuttoned her jeans. She slid the material down her body as Alex stood still as a statue. Coral grabbed her arm and made her step into the bucket.
Once there, Coral pulled Alex's practical underwear down and tossed them to the side. Alex's flushed as the woman inspected her body as if she were just a product to be sold. Next, she began to unbutton the flannel shirt that Alex was wearing. Underneath was her sports bra and Coral instructed her to raise her arms so she could remove it. Alex stood nude, in the metal bucket, shaking from head to toe. As Coral began to roughly scrub at her skin, Alex stared at the empty space above her head. A tear trickled down her cheek as embarrassment and anger pumped through her body. She crossed her arms across her breasts and Coral pulled them down as she thoroughly cleaned her chest.
Coral climbed up a small step stool and poured water over Alex's short choppy hair. As she washed, the woman talked about getting Alex a proper haircut. Alex didn't respond. In a moment of anger, Alex had chopped her long tresses off at the start of the plague. The long hair had been used against her and she couldn't risk having it happen ever again. Alex gulped down the emotion that rose to her throat and an image of her husband came to her mind. He had loved her long hair. When they made love, it would fall across his body. He would fist his hands in it to bring her face to his for his kisses. More tears fell from Alex's eyes, meeting with the soapy rinse water and were washed away before Coral could see.
The water was warm, but Alex was frozen to the core. She couldn't allow her mind to dwell on what was happening to her. If she began to think about being treated like livestock, panic would blind her to any chance of survival. Panic was the beginning of a breakdown that Alex had no time for. She tried to detach herself from Coral's attentions. In truth, the process was probably only five minutes. To Alex, it felt like a lifetime. When Coral wrapped a fluffy robe around her, Alex almost collapsed. She gripped the front of the robe to her body, wanting to stitch it to her skin, to never have to be naked again. Coral let Alex move back to the couch while she cleaned up the showering supplies.
On the couch, Alex tried to pull all of her body inside the robe. She felt violated, even if all Coral did was clean her. The old woman didn't seem phased by the process or by Alex's reaction. Ale
x's wet hair started to get cold and her shivering intensified. With all the supplies stored, Coral turned back to Alex. She brought a towel and rubbed it through Alex's hair. In a normal circumstance, having her hair washed and dried may have been relaxing. Against her will was as far from relaxing as it could get. Alex pulled her knees up and hid her face in the robe. She had showered normally the last few months, as the compound ran well on the solar-powered battery storage they had. Water came from the well and didn't rely on the city at all. However, being out, fighting the infected, and scavenging could make anyone filthy again.
"Almost done, girl. Then we'll get you some clothes to wear," Coral said. Alex lifted her head and glanced at the clothing again that sat on the couch.
"Those aren't clothes. They're scraps."
"They are what the Noble Lord and the guests prefer."
"I don't really care," Alex said.
"You'll need to adjust your attitude before you see the Noble Lord. He doesn't take kindly to his pets giving him lip."
"He'll have to adjust or kill me. I'm not going to just shut up. I'm being held against my will. I won't stop fighting to find a way out," Alex said and she pushed Coral away from her hair.
Alex was done with the woman touching her. She rifled through the items Coral had picked for her. She found the ones that seemed to cover the most skin and took them with her to the small bed alcove. Coral didn't try to stop her, just watched her as she went. Behind the curtain, Alex sat on the bed for a moment. How do I do this? She thought to herself. She weighed her immediate options. If she didn't get dressed and go where Coral told her, she could be harmed or killed by the gunman outside. If she tried to run from the room, the gunman was waiting for her. She went to the small window that was in the alcove. Looking out she couldn't see a fire escape or anything to use to get to the ground from the second floor. She could see guards wandering around the area, smoking cigarettes and laughing as they kicked the dead bodies that were in the street.
She was trapped. Her heart sunk with the realization she was without options. A horde of the dead would have been a welcomed situation. Something she could control. She knew what to expect with the dead. She knew how to fight them, knew how to end their lives. On the second floor of the old building, Alex knew she was up against a wall. She sank back down on the bed, wondering about her family. Hope was dangerous. She wasn't sure if she should allow herself the blossom of belief that someone would break her out of the brothel.
Resolution was the last thing she clung to. She would play the game for now. The Noble Lord would blink. And when he did, Alex would be ready to make her break. She was on her own. And going down without a fight wasn't in her DNA.
Chapter Fourteen
"Nothing is ever simple."
Marcus hit the steering wheel. Cliff just prepared his weapons. The walkie next to Marcus came to life.
"Well this looks fun," Max's sarcastic voice came across the air.
"Let's just start clearing them out. Albert and Mateo will come out to help. I'm sure of it," Marcus responded.
"We can handle this. Just get the people we need so we can go." It was Rafe's voice this time and Marcus guessed that he took the walkie from his smartass sister. They didn't have time to mess around.
Marcus pulled his knife, thinking a closer fight was going to be impossible to avoid. He jumped from the truck and immediately stabbed a small infected man in the head. The sound of slamming doors echoed and the Duncans were in full force. Griffin and Max fought well as a unit, watching each other's backs as they dispatched the dead. Rafe with his dog Storm took down infected on their own. Charlie sat behind the wheel of the truck now, ready for a fast getaway if necessary. Marcus noted all of this in the split seconds it took between kills. The infected seemed to just keep coming.
The sound of gunfire took Marcus by surprise and he looked up to see Mateo hanging out of the attic window again, his rifle at his shoulder. His shots weren't perfect, but he was trying to slow down the horde that was coming. Marcus was thankful he didn't try to shoot near the group of living on the ground, knowing one wide shot and they could be faced with a second emergency. Albert appeared from the side of the house, coming through the gated yard. He joined the hand to hand fight with the Duncans. His movements weren't as practiced and smooth as the Duncans. He wasn't someone who had trained all his life for the fall of society. But his blows to the infected were affective in bringing them down and ending them permanently.
Marcus didn't have a moment to be disgusted by the black gore that covered his hands. He grabbed the next infected by the throat as it snapped at him, wanting to rip Marcus apart. The skin of the throat was rough and decomposed, causing Marcus' hand to slide as he tried to push the infected away. He brought up the hunting knife and slammed it home in the infected's forehead. As the body fell a piece of skin stuck to Marcus' hand. He wanted to gag, he wanted to throw up. No matter how many infected he killed, the dead still grossed him out. Living in a horror movie, faced with every disgusting thing you watched and grimaced at, made for a very rough world.
A lull finally came, and Albert rushed them into the house. Max and Griffin stayed outside to deal with the straggling infected, while Charlie fussed over Storm and put him back in the truck to prevent him from following to the house. Rafe, Marcus, and Cliff followed Albert into the living room of the house. Here all of the men stood, breaths heaving as they fought to regain air into their lungs. Albert stood watching Rafe with surprise on his face. After cleaning their hands as best they could, Albert offered Marcus his hand and they shook.
"Hello again, Marcus," Claudia said as she entered from the kitchen. Vera was following close behind.
"Hello, Claudia. This is Rafe and Cliff. Two of the members of our compound with the Duncans."
"You promised to come back. And you did. I knew you would, despite what my doubtful brother said," Claudia said, shooting a look at Albert.
"You are as good as Marcus boasted. I didn't think that was possible," Albert said.
"I appreciate that Marcus had good words to say about our family. But I really don't think we have time for pleasantries. I don't wish to be rude, but we should get going before the infected gather again," Rafe said.
Albert nodded and headed up the stairs. Two backpacks already sat next to the door as well as rifles. Marcus looked to Vera and Claudia, suddenly nervous to leave the women alone in the house.
"Are you sure both Albert and Mateo should come? What if you need help?" Marcus said.
"I can shoot. And we have plenty of supplies. There should be no reason to leave the house until you all return," Vera replied.
"I understand that your daughters were also taken. That's where you got that?" Rafe asked, motioning to the long wound on Vera's face.
Vera nodded. "They are ruthless. I didn't want to leave Sylvia. But she made me. If one of us didn't get back here, no one would tell our family what happened and where she was. I fought a guard who tried to get me for free. He marked me up with his knife for resisting. I got lucky. The Noble Lord doesn't give anything away for free. The guard was killed immediately. I was damaged goods. So, I wasn't watched closely as I sat in my room bleeding. It was then I escaped."
"You walked all the way home? How did you make it?" Rafe asked.
"I hid in a nearby house first. Found it empty and the owners had left food behind. I drank the water from the toilet tank. I packed up what I could carry and set out. While at the brothel, I had found an old concert flyer. It had the address on it. I remember it. Once I knew where I was, it was easier to find my direction. It took me twelve days to walk home. I walked all day, sometimes into the night if I didn't find somewhere to sleep."
"So about five hundred miles. That means they are with Alex there now unless they went somewhere else," Rafe said.
"The men that work for The Noble Lord, they are desperate. Some are druggies. Some are criminals. But they are all loyal to the power the Noble Lord has. The guard he killed f
or trying to take me, he was tortured, not just killed outright. Everyone could hear his screams. They do those things publicly, so everyone knows what happens to those that cross him," Vera said then shivered, as if hearing the screams again.
"That's how he controls people from 500 miles away," Marcus commented.
"Yes. His strength has been spread by the men that follow him. They follow him because he has the drugs. He has illegal drugs but also a large store of pharmaceuticals. People go to him for all sorts of reasons," Vera said.
"How do we hit him? What's the weakness?" Rafe asked.
Marcus knew where his mind was, because Marcus was thinking it too. With a man that had a reach as far as their piece of Montana, how would their small group make any difference? Marcus couldn't help the fears of failure from squirming into his mind. It was like having worms in his brain. The fears burrowed into his thoughts, leaving their trail even after he pushed them away. Failure wasn't an option. He knew the Duncans would never give up when one of their own was missing. They would do the same for any on the compound. But Alex was different. She was the head of the family. She was the oldest sister. Rafe and Max would never leave their sister behind.
"I'm sorry, Rafe. I don't know. There are so many men. Some that come and go, with no schedule to predict. If somehow..." Vera trailed off, lost in her thoughts.
"If what, Vera?" Marcus asked.
"There are so many women inside. They are kept separated by makeshift rooms. But if you could get them to fight, stand up for themselves, they would add to your numbers."
"Do you think they would fight?" Rafe asked.
"I just don't know. I didn't meet many of them. The ones I did meet seemed broken and resigned to their fate."
"My Sylvia will fight," Claudia said, cutting into the conversation. She had watched the men listen to her daughter and the pride on her face was apparent. Her daughter had fought and escaped to come home. Now the information she had would save her sister and maybe countless other women.
Sundown Series (Book 4): Torment Page 16
