Flesh Market

by Kate Lowell

  * * * *

  The door to Ethan and Julian’s cell slammed against the wall. DeGraff stood in the opening.

  “Get up. We’re going on a trip.”

  Ethan scrambled to his feet and hurried to the door. Julian got up more slowly, keeping a wary eye on DeGraff. “Where?” he asked in a petulant tone.

  “None of your business.” DeGraff strode into the room, and Julian was stumbling into the hallway before he quite registered that the man had even moved.

  Julian balked instinctively and tried to run the other way.

  “Get going!” DeGraff snapped, and cuffed Julian hard.

  The hall spun for a moment. Ethan grabbed hold of Julian and hustled him down the hall ahead of DeGraff. “Don’t mess with him. He’s the boss.”

  Julian lagged and tried to look behind him. Where was Leo? He really didn’t want to be separated from the other agent. DeGraff slapped him again, harder this time, and Julian’s forehead smashed against the wall. He fell to his knees, more in shock than pain. DeGraff kicked him to his feet while Ethan frantically pulled on his arm to get him up. He was still naked too. Well, he’d kind of expected that. Good thing he wasn’t body-shy.

  DeGraff took them through an exit onto a concrete loading dock. The concrete was cold under his feet, weirdly smooth, but good footing. A big box truck sat at the edge of the dock, its back door rolled up and a short ramp bridging the gap between it and the concrete. Inside, Julian could see two narrow silver crates locked into a solid-looking rack at the front. Two identical crates lay on the concrete waiting to be filled, their lids on the floor beside them. A burly man with a faded tattoo on his forearm was leaning against the wall when they walked in, but he stood up and flicked away a cigarette butt at DeGraff’s nod.

  Julian watched with horror as DeGraff jabbed a syringe in Ethan’s arm and shoved him toward one of the crates. Even worse, Ethan knew what was expected of him. He stretched out facedown in the steel box, cheek pressed against the square of grating on the bottom, and lay quietly while DeGraff closed the lid and fastened it. It was brutally obvious that this was how they transported the captives from one place to another.

  And Leo was still missing.

  When DeGraff turned to Julian, another syringe loaded and ready in his hand, Julian wasn’t going to make it easy. He dodged and ran for the door, twisted away from the burly man, and almost ran right into Leo. “Shit!” He dodged back the way he came, his heart pounding.

  DeGraff made a grab for him, arms spread wide. Julian threw a wild punch, missed, and was going for a second one when the burly man caught up to him from behind. The next thing he knew, his arms were pinned behind his back, and DeGraff was coming at him again with that damn needle.

  Having only just recovered from one of DeGraff’s funky drug trips, he absolutely didn’t want to suffer through another. He leaned on the man holding his arms and kicked, hoping to knock the needle out of DeGraff’s hand.

  DeGraff ducked. “Dammit, Kittridge, hold him!”

  On his second kick, luck was either with him or against him, depending on the point of view. Instead of hitting the hand with the needle, he caught DeGraff right in the face, a solid crunch that was music to his ears.

  Take that, you jerk. Maybe Ethan would never know it, but that one had been for him.

  “Fucking little shit!” DeGraff roared, one hand going to his nose as he staggered backward.

  Kittridge wrenched Julian back and shoved him to the floor hard enough that Julian couldn’t help a cry of pain. “You okay, boss?” Kittridge asked, one hand on the back of Julian’s neck, the other twisting his arms up behind his back.

  “Fuck. Yeah.” DeGraff sent Julian a black look. “It better not be broken, boy, or I’ll take the hit on profits to pay you back.”

  Julian just grunted and tugged against the burly man’s grip.

  Leo dropped the bag he was carrying to one side of the door. “Stuff’s ready to load. Guess I should have come faster.” He put a hand on DeGraff’s shoulder and motioned to the man to let Leo see his nose. “Can you still breathe through that?”

  DeGraff nodded.

  “Not broken, then. Go clean yourself up. I’ll look after this.”

  “Naw. I’ll finish this little bastard.”

  Leo let go of DeGraff and made a dismissive “I don’t care” gesture. “You break him, you bought him.”

  DeGraff paused and stared at him in disbelief, then started to laugh, a nasal, liquid sound that burbled through the blood still running from his nose. “You know what? I was convinced you didn’t have a sense of humor. Then you say shit like that.” He picked up the syringe. “We’ll pack him up first.” He made no attempt to avoid hurting Julian when he sank the needle into the flesh of his upper arm. “Nighty-night, Rambo. Don’t worry—we’ll talk about this later.”

  Julian spat at him, for want of anything more creative. The guy holding him down squeezed Julian’s wrists painfully tight, grinding the bones together. Julian’s stomach lurched in nausea at the pain, and he put his head down on the cool concrete, panting until his stomach settled again.

  It didn’t take long for his mind to blur. Leo and DeGraff stood to one side, chatting casually about basketball and IndyCar racing as if they hadn’t just doped Julian up within an inch of his life. He tried to fight the drugs, but they were persistent, sucking at the edges of his consciousness, sneaking up on him when he was focused on some other effect they were having on him. The pitted surface of the dock wavered before him, and then darkness rushed in to finish the job.

  Tenderization

  The trip between DC and Vegas took thirty-seven hours by truck for the victims, five by plane for the rest of them. Leo rushed to help unload the crates, anxiety chewing at his guts like hungry rats. He was going to have an ulcer after this for sure.

  The bruising around the bridge of DeGraff’s nose was still prominent, but no one mentioned it. DeGraff himself was quiet, in the way that the air before a thunderstorm was quiet. They unpacked the girls first, and DeGraff sent Leo to escort them into the warehouse to clean up and get something to eat. Kittridge stayed in the loading dock with DeGraff, pulling down the next crate.

  When Leo came back about half an hour later, there was only one victim left to be unloaded. Throat tight with worry, he helped DeGraff undo the locking mechanism and hoist the crate down. They set it on the loading dock, and DeGraff flipped the catches that released the lid. He wore an anticipatory expression as he lifted one side and peered inside the crate.

  “Welcome home, Rambo. Get your ass up.” He tipped the cover off onto the floor and stepped back.

  Julian looked uncomfortable and stiff, but he didn’t seem harmed. He climbed awkwardly out of the box, wobbling as his body struggled to reaccustom itself to pumping blood against the pull of gravity. Despite the lack of color in his cheeks, he looked alert, and he watched both Leo and DeGraff with bright-eyed suspicion.

  Relief made Leo’s head spin for an instant. Julian was fine.

  DeGraff snapped his fingers at Leo. “Grab his arm. I have something to show him.” He headed for the door at the end of the dock and held it open.

  Leo stepped between them, hiding Julian from DeGraff for just an instant. You okay? he mouthed, to be certain.

  Julian nodded, though his expression was strained. He flicked his gaze over Leo’s shoulder and raised his eyebrows.

  The hallway looked eerily similar to the one in DC. Concrete, cold fluorescent lighting, a couple of heavy doors breaking up the monotony of the walls. DeGraff stopped at the second one and shoved it open. He stood with one forearm propped against the frame and watched Leo drag an increasingly reluctant Julian up to him.

  Leo wrapped both hands around Julian’s biceps and put his mouth against the other man’s ear, “If it looks like we’re putting you in harm’s way, we’ll take him down. We will not let anything happen to you.”

  Julian twisted to peer back at him, then let himself be herded forward.
Leo glanced up and caught DeGraff’s eyes. DeGraff nodded at him and stood out of the way so they could enter the room.

  Julian came to an abrupt stop just inside the door. “What the hell?” he whispered. The horror in his voice made Leo look up, and, once his brain figured out what his eyes were telling him, he had to choke back a surge of nausea.

  The scene was eerily familiar from any one of half a dozen medical dramas that peppered the late-evening time slots on TV. At one end, the room had been set up as a rough operating suite. Stark white walls, steel cabinets, machinery beeping regularly as it worked away. A man in surgical scrubs stood over a heavy steel table, though this time the table was occupied. Huge domed lights beamed down from above like a thousand suns, making the bloody scene in front of them even more awful.

  DeGraff gave Leo a push. “Take him closer. He needs to understand the stakes here.”

  Julian dug his heels in, and Leo had to nearly lift him off the floor to force him farther into the room. He leaned down and whispered in Julian’s ear, “There’s nothing you can do for him now. Don’t think about it.” Julian threw him a disbelieving look, face as white as the walls around them. Leo shook him carefully, trying to break through the shock. “Wake up. I’ll keep you off that table, if I have to kill him to do it.”

  Still no response, except dilated pupils and that fixed, horrified stare.

  It was DeGraff who got through to Julian. He stomped impatiently over to them and grabbed Julian by the hair. Without warning, he pulled him violently away from Leo, practically dragging him off his feet. A tiny gasp of pain was the only noise Julian made, hands going to his head in a useless attempt to break DeGraff’s hold on him. Then DeGraff shoved him against the side of the table, and Leo watched as he froze, arms falling to his sides in shocked slow motion.

  DeGraff tightened his fist, drawing another pained gasp from Julian. “You want to end up here?” He hauled Julian right up to the head of the table and stood behind him to force him to look down at the body occupying it.

  Leo moved up beside the two of them and stared down at the man on the table. It was the first time Leo had seen Ethan look so peaceful and unafraid.

  He’d been split open from sternum to pelvis, the doctor’s hands deep in his belly. Red and white boxes bearing the message Human Organ for Transplant stood open, waiting. To one side, a plastic pouch bearing the label A+ filled slowly with Ethan’s blood.

  Julian stood perfectly still for one moment; then he lunged away from the table, scrambling over Leo in his haste to get away from the scene. Leo caught him, instinct more than thought, picked him up, and swung him around to face the table again.

  The man in the surgeon’s gown looked up from Ethan’s body. “Do you mind? I’m working.” He bent again to the bloody hole and carefully lifted a pristine kidney into one of the containers. A short man with a paunch and the scarred knuckles of a street fighter, who nudged Leo’s memory but not enough to put a name to him, appeared from behind them to close up the box and take it back out the door.

  DeGraff beckoned Leo over to the head of the table. Leo went, dragging Julian with him. He couldn’t afford any weakness here—if it had been only DeGraff and the doctor, they might have arrested them right there. But with the familiar-looking thug just outside, and Kittridge coming in the door, they were outnumbered. Plus Julian was naked, and both of them were unarmed.

  It was too late for Ethan anyway. Even if Leo did stop them, he had no way to put the boy’s organs back again. He could see the huge empty space where Ethan’s liver had been, and the bright red patches where skin had been removed from his inner thighs and the soft underside of his arms. Leo forced himself to watch, cursing everything, from fate to the transplant industry’s chronic shortage of organs to himself for being so slow.

  Then he cursed himself for selfishness. From the look on Julian’s face, he’d never seen a man die before. Leo held Julian tight and rubbed a quick, hidden circle with his thumbs. Small comfort, but all he could offer.

  DeGraff grabbed Julian’s hair, forcing him to look at Ethan’s face. “You settle down, you hear? Or this’ll be you.” He looked up at Leo. “Keep him here until they’re done. Then we’ll see if he’s smartened up any.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  DeGraff left, and Leo did as he was told, holding Julian in place until the final moments, when the heart and lungs were removed. His determination to smash this operation grew with each slice of the scalpel.

  Kittridge closed up the last box with an impatient “Finally!” The surgeon stepped away, snapping off his bloody gloves. He glanced at Leo and Julian, then left without a word, grabbing a bottle of alcohol from one of the cupboards on his way out.

  They were alone now. Leo leaned down and whispered in Julian’s ear, “You okay?”

  Julian’s face was pale and shining with sweat. He swallowed hard. “Maybe, I think? Bastards. That poor kid. Do you think he knew?”

  “Don’t know. Probably not.” Didn’t matter. Leo wasn’t going to say otherwise, not to Julian, still shiny, with that new-agent smell.

  Now that it was quiet and Leo could focus on something other than keeping them safe, or the horror on the table before them, he noticed the fine tremble that shivered Julian’s body. Leo pulled him close, Julian’s back against his chest, as grateful for the contact as Julian seemed to be. Julian leaned against Leo and raised his hands to wrap them around Leo’s arms. They stood like that for a moment, not talking, but gathering their resources.

  Finally Leo squeezed to get Julian’s attention. “I don’t know how often I’ll be able to get you alone, unsupervised, so we can talk. This isn’t going to be like the brothels—I can’t even guess at what to expect. But this tells me there isn’t much they won’t do.” He nodded at the table and the cooling body. “I know you’re new. I know that Bert couldn’t warn you about all this, because he didn’t know. Do you want out? I can call and put an end to this right now if you want.”

  Julian took a deep, shaky breath and tilted his head back to look up at Leo. “Tell that to Ethan.” He frowned, his mouth a thin, hard line. “This deserves payback. I’m not throwing in the towel.” He turned back toward the table. “I’m sorry, Ethan,” he whispered and bowed his head.

  The door behind them clunked, and DeGraff came back. “Well, couriers are gone, another quarter million in the pot. Not what we could have made, but sometimes you have to make a deal when you’re getting rid of excess product.” He stood in front of Julian and slapped him lightly across the face. “Too bad he wasn’t O-neg like you—would have been half a million, minimum. Think about that. This is what happens to boys and girls that don’t do what they’re told.” He wrapped his fingers around Julian’s neck, and he must have tightened his grip, because Julian began to wheeze. Leo loosened his grip on the other agent, ready to go for DeGraff’s arms if it sounded like Julian was in real trouble.

  DeGraff got right down into Julian’s face, and his voice turned deadly. “Unless you really piss me off, and then there are worse things that can happen. Are we going to have a problem like this again?” His hand dropped to his side.

  “No,” Julian said, his voice low and slightly hoarse.

  DeGraff nodded. “Good. Now, you have one more lesson to learn.” He nodded to Leo and walked off. After a moment’s uncertainty, Leo took Julian by the shoulders and hustled him along after DeGraff. The hair on the back of Leo’s neck stood on end, and with no idea what DeGraff had planned, he prepared himself in case he had to kill DeGraff and take the operation down with him. He’d thought the line he was treading in the brothels was thin? This one was almost nonexistent.

  Julian glanced up at him quickly, a hard stare that reminded Leo that, despite appearances, this wasn’t a scared fifteen-year-old boy, but a trained federal agent nearly a decade older.

  Dammit, okay, follow your lead.

  * * * *

  The room they went to was small, with only a single bulb in the middle of the ceiling.
Tucked away in the back, at the far end of the hallway that contained the surgery and the door to the loading dock, it hadn’t even been included in the tour DeGraff had given him while they waited for the victims to arrive. It looked like a spare cell for the victims, except that the only furniture in the room was something that looked like an old metal-framed army cot without the mattress. Four coils of rope lay on top of the steel mesh of the bed.

  DeGraff stopped and looked at Leo. “Facedown, feet at the end facing away from the wall.” He bent and picked up a wooden rod, as big around as Leo’s ring finger.

  “What are we doing?” Leo asked. He wasn’t moving Julian one inch closer to that bed until he knew what was going on.

  DeGraff smiled grimly and crossed the room to grab Julian’s jaw. His grip was so tight it whitened the flesh around his fingers, and Julian made a small noise of discomfort. “Our boy here is going to learn to keep his feet on the floor, or next time he won’t be able to walk out of the room on his own.” He stepped back and swung the rod through the air so hard it made an eerie whooshing noise.

  Shit. But maybe he could talk DeGraff out of it. “Are you sure that’s necessary? He seems pretty scared.”

  “Just need to make sure. If he really means to be a good boy, he’ll take his punishment without fuss.” DeGraff smiled at Julian. “I said we’d talk, didn’t I?” The thought appeared to please him a great deal.

  Julian pushed back into Leo’s arms. “I said I was sorry! I won’t; I won’t—I promise!” He twisted in Leo’s arms and shot him a controlled, intent look, completely at odds with the terrified message his voice and body were sending.

  It took a second, and then Leo realized—He wants to talk. Leo let himself be dragged down the room as Julian squirmed and kicked. When they were as far away as he judged he could take them without arousing DeGraff’s suspicions, he knocked Julian down and held him there. “What?”

  “Look at him—he’s not going to let you talk him out of it. Don’t you dare think about calling it quits,” Julian whispered back, then yelled a few obscenities. He lowered his voice again. “I’ll be fine. Just don’t let him cripple me.” He sank his teeth into Leo’s arm, hard enough to sting and sudden enough to startle a shout out of Leo.