Tenderloin

by LD Marr

Ever so slowly, he fell forward. Inch by inch as if floating, Claude dropped downward toward the floor. I waited.

  Eventually, in my time, he landed on the hard floor, which started to make the sound of a long echoing thump. Then he lay there unmoving, face down on the stained linoleum.

  Will he suffocate like that? I wondered.

  I squatted down next to him and turned his head sideways. Then I stood up and put my top back on. I grabbed my coat and put my arms through it, but I didn’t take the time to button it up. Even though time was stretched out and moving so slow, I felt a sense of urgency.

  I have to hurry! something in my mind urged me.

  Chapter 23

  My awareness of Laz was strong in the direction of the double door on the other side of the room. And there were other people back that way too, I realized. A lot of other people.

  I walked over and pushed down on the handle between the two doors. It didn’t budge. I reached a hand to the keypad above the handle and began entering numbers. The twelve numbers I’d memorized and seen Claude use twice.

  The door buzzed long, deep, and slow in stretched-out time. I waited for the slow click sound of its lock and then pushed one of the two double doors wide open. I walked through, and in slow time, it began to close incrementally behind me as I moved away down the hall.

  This hallway looked almost exactly like the first hallway I’d entered with Claude when we came out of the elevator. Long, cold, and bare except for gurneys parked against the walls and more double doors.

  I felt Laz farther down, but he wasn’t the only one here. I’d have to check behind every door. That thought chilled me. I knew there was something behind these doors that I didn’t want to see.

  The first double door had another keypad on it. It looked as if they all did. I typed in the numbers and heard the slow buzz and then the slow click of the lock opening. I pushed one of two doors open and walked in.

  I’d expected something bad, but the room appeared to be empty of occupants. More gurneys and a few narrow metal tables were the only things in this long, narrow room. Walls lined with drawers stretched into the far distance.

  It was even colder in here. Almost freezing. I approached the wall of drawers, each about four feet wide and three feet high. I examined the handwritten card inserted in a holder built into the front of one drawer.

  Numbers that looked like a date a few months ago. That was all.

  I lifted a reluctant hand to the small handle on the drawer and pulled. It was heavy steel, but well-oiled tracks slid it out toward me. Visible cold air condensation began to puff out in slow time as I pulled. After about six inches, I knew what was in there, but I kept pulling the drawer open.

  First, bare human toes, waxy beige in death, then ankles, knees, thighs. Young. A teen. Bile rose in my throat, but I didn’t retch. I wanted to stop there and push the drawer back in, but I couldn’t. I had to keep going, no matter how much I wanted to run away.

  A part of me wanted to scream or faint. But another part of me stayed calm and controlled. The part that I’d thought wasn’t me. That I’d thought was someone or something else. Now I knew that thing was me. And however strange it was, no matter how much I wanted to deny it, the realization gave me confidence to go on.

  I took a deep breath of chill air. Then I pulled the drawer all the way out. In slowed-down time, cold precipitation formed swirls and started to dissipate away from the dead body lying there.

  No sheet covered the young female who looked about fourteen or fifteen. Dead green eyes stared up wide at me from a scream-stuck face. Curly brown hair and tan skin under the yellow waxiness of death.

  She wasn’t anyone I recognized. I pulled my cellphone from the small back pocket of my stretch pants and took her picture.

  I opened the next drawer over. A young male this time. I took his picture and the pictures of three more dead teens. I got a shot that included all five of them and more shots of the rest of the room.

  Then I pushed all of the drawers back in. One after the other, they made slowed-down click sounds as they shut.

  I knew I didn’t need to look in any more of these drawers. It was too late for whoever was in them. I had to find the people who were still alive and find them fast.

  I turned and left the room. In my sped-up time, I reached the door before it had closed again. I rushed through back into the long hallway.

  Chapter 24

  Straight across the hall from the door I’d just left was another double door. I crossed over to it and entered the code in its keypad. The door buzzed and clicked in slow time, and I pushed it open and went in.

  At first, I couldn’t understand what I was seeing and smelling. Or maybe I just didn’t want to understand. The loud whir of powerful ventilation fans drew my attention up to the high ceiling. And I felt the cool air they circulated push against my exposed skin.

  But the huge fans didn’t erase the metallic, acrid smell that filled this room. The sour rotting smell reminded me of the aroma that had wafted from the rare steak Claude had been eating.

  I stared around at what looked like a vast production facility, and it started to register in my mind. It was a meat-processing plant.

  I had to get pictures of everything, so I started with what seemed easiest—the long metal tables in the center of the room. At about waist height, topped with conveyer belts that weren’t moving now, they stretched the length of the room. At the ends of the tables, open mouths waited for whatever traveled on the belts. The mouths led into large metal boxes with various tubes attached to them.

  At intervals that looked like workstations, shelves built into the sides of the tables held an assortment of large knives, cleavers, hand saws, and small power saws. Rags and bottles of fluids were also arranged on the shelves.

  Large covered drums separated each workstation. Reluctantly, I lifted the lid off one of the drums and looked inside. Empty except for the plastic bag that lined it.

  Drains were placed at frequent intervals in the vinyl floor, which was stained many shades of red and brown. I took a few more pictures and then walked over to what looked like a row of large freezers on one side of the room.

  The freezers had clear doors, so I didn’t have to open them to see what was inside. They all held the same thing but in different sizes. Large slabs of meat wrapped up in clear plastic.

  I moved closer to one of the freezers. It was packed with neatly stacked slabs of a similar shape. I’d never seen any live farm animals—no one had in those days—but these shapes didn’t resemble any animal body part that I was familiar with. To me, they looked more like thighs—human thighs.

  The wrapped meat in the next freezer over was the same. I took more pictures. Then I moved along and saw what looked like human legs below the knee, entire human arms, backs, chests, and necks.

  In spite the self-control I thought I had now, I retched, but nothing came up. I realized that I hadn’t ate or drank anything in several hours. I pushed down panicked thoughts that hunger and thirst might be a problem for me. That I might pass out in this place and end up in this room too.

  That’s not going to happen! I told myself.

  But I still wasn’t done in this room. I had to get pictures of what was on the other side, and then I could leave. So far, I’d avoided looking at what was on the other side of the room, but now I had to.

  All along the opposite wall, skinless bodies hung from huge hooks stuck into their backs. Young human bodies, not cows or pigs. I didn’t want to, but I looked up at the dead faces. Was anyone I knew hanging here? Chloe or one of my past clients? Would I even recognize them in this condition?

  In my sped-up time, I watched individual drops of blood fall in slow motion from the hanging bodies. Each drop wafted down at a snail’s pace through the air before it landed with a slowed-down splat on the long drain that stretched along the side of the wall. I stood frozen in place for several moments.

  I’m wasting time! I realized. I need to get goi
ng. I have to find Laz and anyone else who’s still alive down here and get them out!

  I took a few more pictures. Then I turned and ran back to the double doors.

  Hurry! I have to hurry! I urged myself.

  But just as I was about to leave, I noticed a row of four more tall cabinets next to the doorway. These cabinets, taller than my head, were metal, not transparent. I really didn’t want to look inside them. I thought I’d seen enough, but I knew I needed to be thorough.

  So I pulled on the handle of the nearest one. It didn’t budge, but I felt a button inside the curved handle, and I squeezed it in. The door swung open wide. The matching door on the other side opened too. Within the dimness, I saw several long dark shapes hanging from a pole under a shelf at the top of the cabinet.

  I reached in and pulled out one of the hanging shapes. It was a one-piece work suit with a hood, attached gloves, and foot coverings. The hood zipped up all the way up to the eyes. What looked like a breathing vent covered where the mouth and nose would be.

  I stood on my toes and looked up at the shelf above the hanging suits. Goggles. These cabinets held full-coverage bodysuits. I decided that I didn’t have time to look in the rest of them, and I turned back to the double doors.

  Four large covered bins with foot petals were lined up on the other side of the doors. I stood next to one and pushed its petal down with the toe of my shoe. I bent near to look inside.

  A powerful putrid smell wafted into my face. The bin was half full of the same bodysuits I’d just seen—splotched with red and chunks of gore. I backed away fast, and the lid started to close in slow time.

  Bile rose in my throat again, but I didn’t retch. I turned back to the exit doors. They’d shut this time, so I had to enter the code in the keypad. Then I rushed back out into the hallway.

  Chapter 25

  The sense of Laz’s presence was strong now. It drew me to the next set of double doors down the hall.

  He’s in here! I told myself as I keyed in the twelve numbers to open the door.

  Again, in its slowed-down time, the door began a slow buzz and then a slow click. I pushed it open and strode in. This room was warmer compared to the artificial coldness of the last two rooms, but it still held the chill, close air of structures underground.

  Kind of like the subway, I thought.

  The mingled smell of urine and perspiration reminded me of the subway too. Only one small ventilation fan circulated meekly above my head.

  I looked around where I stood. One wall of the bare entranceway held only a few metal stools perched beneath a thin counter with a built-in sink. A square metal towel dispenser was attached to the wall above the counter. Locked cabinets lined the wall above the dispenser.

  Across from the counter, an enormous coiled-up hose hung from a hook on the opposite wall. Several large unmarked sacks were lined up on the floor next to the hose. A large scoop stuck out of the open top of one sack.

  But the rest of the room caught and held my attention. About ten feet away from the door, floor-to-ceiling metal bars lined both sides of the walls. Behind the bars, there were people—young people. Each in what looked like a separate narrow cell or cage. And Laz was in one too.

  The floor in the narrow walkway between the cages curved down toward its center, where a long drain grill stretched for the entire length of the cages.

  In their much slower time, those people who were awake in the cages started to notice that the door to the room had been flung open. Some reclined on the hard, thin cots that filled most of their cells. They lifted their heads ever so slowly.

  Others stood at the bars of their cages. Some with mouths open in the slowed-down motion of talking to each other. Some just stood there. Others sat on their cots and stared into space. Heads and bodies began to turn fractionally in my direction.

  But I was already moving to unlock the keypad on the first cage.

  A small card attached to the door of the cage was hand printed with a date from about six weeks in the past.

  That was before Chloe disappeared, I thought. Is she in here too?

  But I looked up the length of the room and didn’t see her.

  I noticed the large bottle attached to the cage’s bars. A water bottle with a spout that went through the bars and into the cage at about face height. It was clear and half empty.

  Next to the bottle, also inside the cage, a plastic bowl held greyish-green pellets. The bowl was attached to the bars beneath a horizontal opening in the cage that was just high enough to pour the pellets through. And it was also about half full of pellets.

  I looked at the teenage boy in the slowed-down act of rising from the narrow stained cot inside the cage. Brown curly hair partly covered his pale face. I didn’t recognize him, but I was shocked to see how plump he was.

  I’d never seen a young person who wasn’t thin or even malnourished. Steve had a belly, but he was thin overall, and he was older. This young man wasn’t muscular like Claude, and he was even heavier than the well-fed people I’d just seen in restaurant.

  Next to the wall behind the cot, a small toilet had a facet positioned above it—a jail-style toilet.

  Now the door to this cage was open.

  Stop staring and keep going! I ordered myself.

  I remembered to take pictures of everything on the bars of the cage and inside it, including the young man. I stepped back into the isle between the cages and took more pictures of the entire room.

  Then I moved on to the next cage.

  Can they see me in my sped-up time? I wondered. Or do they see me as a blur?

  One after the other, I unlocked about eighteen cages on both sides of the room. Six others were empty. All were exactly the same except for different dates on the cards. The teens in the cages with more recent dates were thinner. Those with dates farther in the past were heavier. But all of the dates were two months ago or less.

  Some powerful feeling that I didn’t recognize flooded me when I reached Laz and opened the door to his cell, but I didn’t pause there. I kept going until I had all of the doors open.

  None of the prisoners except Laz were my former clients from the clinic, but I thought I recognized a few I’d seen there. It was hard to be sure because they’d all put on weight since then. They’d been other counselor’s clients, and then I hadn’t seen them again.

  A wave of guilt hit me now because I hadn’t paid attention to that at the time—only to my own clients who disappeared.

  These people’s clothes looked grimy and worn as if they hadn’t been changed in a long time. Tight and with seams bursting open on some of the heavier ones. Jackets were wadded up on the ends of the small cots like makeshift pillows. Some of them had socks on, some had bare feet, but none wore shoes.

  I looked around and watched the beginnings of shocked expressions bloom slowly on young faces. Those who’d been sleeping stirred, but no one had moved more than a few inches since I’d entered the room.

  But something else had been triggered by my actions. The start of a loud blare blasted my ears. A security alarm.

  I pushed down the panicked feelings that told me to go faster and considered what to do next.

  I have to slow down to their time now, I realized. I have to lead them out of here or else tell them how get out.

  I decided that it would be best to give them directions, so they could get going. I wasn’t done down here. There were still more rooms to check.

  Laz was slowly moving toward the door of his cell. I crossed to him and stood in front of his open door.

  Time, go back to normal! I mentally ordered time again, still feeling foolish.

  Time sped up, and Laz reached the doorway at normal speed.

  “Myrna? Myrna! What’s going on?” he shouted.

  Confused and dazed, Laz raised his arms to me and yelled above the now faster blaring sound of the alarm.

  The urge to throw myself into his open arms was almost overpowering, but I resisted.

 
; “There’s no time to explain, Laz,” I said. “You have to go. You have to get these people out of here fast before someone comes.”

  The others were crowded around us now.

  “How?” someone yelled.

  Laz stared at me. They all stared at me, waiting for my answer.

  “I’ll tell you where to go,” I yelled at Laz.

  I gave him directions from this room to the elevator.

  “Push the button for Transportation Center, New York Subways,” I continued. “Then take the car to the Bowery. You must remember.”

  I looked around at all of them.

  “That’s how you got here, right?” I yelled at them.

  “Yes, but Claude used a code to get through all the doors,” Laz yelled over the blaring alarms.

  I felt a terrible sense of urgency, The ear-splitting noise of the alarm grew louder and louder as we stood there talking.

  “I’ll tell you the code,” I screamed back at Laz. “Can you remember twelve numbers?”

  “No. I can’t!” he screamed.

  Now what? I thought. If only I could take them all into sped-up time with me, but I don’t know how to do that.

  “OK. I’ll tell some of you three numbers each,” I said. “Can you do that?”

  “Yes,” yelled Laz.

  “We can do that too,” some of the others yelled.

  I quickly gave three numbers each to four groups of teenagers.

  “Now go!” I yelled. “Run as fast as you can!”

  “Wait! What about you?” Laz yelled.

  “What should we do when we get out?” Someone else yelled the question at me.

  “Don’t worry about me. There are more people I have to find down here. Just go!” I yelled back at all of them.

  I waved my arms insistently toward the door.

  “Go to Steve for help,” I yelled at Laz.

  I hoped that would be a good idea. It was all I could think of.

  They all took off. Laz brushed a quick kiss on my lips on his way out of the cage.

  ⌛