by A M Huff
Why can’t I remember? Where are my clothes?
Justus looked at the floor. There was something dark lying in a wad in the corner. Slowly he pushed off the bed and stood. His legs trembled and felt weak. He started to take a step but suddenly the floor rushed toward him.
When he opened his eyes again, his cheek was pressed against the cold tile floor. He turned his head and looked under the door into the next room but could not make out anything. He listened. Everything was quiet. He shivered.
Where are my clothes?
He started to push himself up onto his knees when he spotted something in the corner. He reached for it and grabbed the soft fabric. Pulling it toward him he sat down on the floor, bringing his legs around until he sat cross-legged. He held the fabric up and realized it was his jeans. He awkwardly shifted and twisted until he had them on. Warmth started to return to that part of his body.
While he sat on the floor, his jeans pulled up but not buttoned, the fog in his head began to lift. He remembered sitting on a sofa looking at Andy. His heart began to beat faster and his hands began to tremble. He tried to calm himself with deep breaths but only ended up panting. He began to feel dizzy.
What’s happening?
He opened his eyes for the third time, but his memory of the first two times he had awakened was gone. He pushed himself up until he sat on the floor with his back against the bed and his feet stretched out in front of him. There was a ringing in his ears but otherwise the room was quiet. He remembered Andy looking at him and grinning. He had flashes of seeing his shirt torn from his body and of Andy pressing down on him.
I’ve got to get out of here.
Slowly Justus pulled himself to his feet. His legs felt a bit unsteady but they held him. He started for the nearest door, the one with the light slipping beneath it. He reached for the doorknob.
The sound of a bell ringing caused him to pull his hand away. It took him a couple more rings to realize it was not in his head. It was coming from behind the room’s other door. Cautiously he inched his way toward it, steadying himself with a hand on the wall.
He opened the door to reveal a closet. It was empty except for a small wooden box on the shelf above the rod. The ringing sound was coming from inside. As his mind became clearer he felt his strength return. He grabbed the box. It felt heavier than he expected. He took it over to the bed and set it down. The ringing stopped.
Justus looked around. He needed more light. Walking over to the window with the torn shade, he pulled on it. The patch gave and the lightning bolt widened, letting light pour into the room. Quickly, Justus returned to the box and opened it.
Inside were several cell phones, wallets, a wrist watch, and a couple of men’s rings: a wide gold band and what appeared to be a fraternity ring. Justus recognized one of the phones as his. He picked it up and tapped the screen. It illuminated but went black almost immediately. Two short beeps told him the battery was dead. He looked at the other phones. Their batteries were also dead. Dropping down on the bed and then adjusting himself to ease the discomfort in his anus, he picked up one of the wallets. He flipped it open and pulled out the driver’s license. His heart skipped a beat when he saw the smiling image and read the name Jack O’Brien. He dropped the wallet and grabbed another. It belonged to Alexander. Another belonged to Patrick.
Police. I need to call the police.
Leaving the box with its souvenirs on the bed, Justus rushed out of the bedroom into a short hallway. For a moment he stood and looked around until he figured out which way to go. Once in the living room, he spotted an old olive-green phone on the kitchen counter. He grabbed the receiver, but when he picked it up it was dead.
The neighbor lady.
Justus ran across the living room toward the front door. His bare feet slapped the tiled floor. He turned the doorknob but the door was deadbolted. He turned the latch and threw the door open. The security fence was closed.
It’s unlocked. The thought flashed in his mind. Was it a memory? Justus did not know but he rushed toward it.
A car screeched to a stop in the short driveway in front of the garage. The driver turned off the ignition and quickly jumped from behind the wheel. Justus’ heart leapt and he fell back a couple steps.
Andy raced to the gate and used a key to unlock it.
“What are you doing out here?” he said through clenched teeth.
“I’m going home,” Justus said with all the courage and power he could muster.
“I don’t think so. I’m not through with you yet,” Andy said.
Justus saw the small wooden club in Andy’s raised hand but it was too late. He felt a sharp pain on the side of his head and then nothing.
The first thing that told Justus he was still alive was the excruciating pain that throbbed in his head. The pain was so intense it radiated down his neck into his shoulders and kept him from opening his eyes. The second thing was there was something hard in his mouth, stretching his jaws almost to the breaking point. He tried using his tongue to push it out, but it would not move.
Slowly he forced himself to open his eyes. It was dark again. The thick heavy scent of freshly turned dirt hung in the air and made it hard for him to breathe.
As he became more alert, he realized his hands were bound and hoisted over his head. His toes barely touched the ground beneath him. He twisted and pulled trying to kick his feet but a restraint wrapped around his ankles prevented him from moving.
Stay calm. Breathe slowly.
Following his own advice, Justus tried to take a deep breath but with his arms stretched above his head and the gag crammed in his mouth, it was hard for him to get air deep into his lungs. He started to panic.
Relax. It’s going to be okay.
The pain in his head pulsated and caused him to close his eyes tight. When it eased a bit, he opened them again. He looked at his surroundings. There were thin slivers of light that formed partial rectangles along what he believed was a wall.
Boarded up windows.
He could not make out anything in the dark shadows around him. He choked and tasted copper.
“Good.” Andy’s voice came out of the darkness.
Justus twisted and tried to see from where.
“I was afraid our fun was over,” he continued and stepped into view a few feet in front of Justus. He reached up and untied the gag, letting the black strap sag and the ball slip out of Justus’ mouth.
Justus turned his head and spit.
Turning back to Andy’s dark shape, he demanded, “Where am I?” His voice, however, sounded hoarse and weak.
“In my basement,” Andy answered. “Well, it will be once I finish putting in the cement floor and sheetrock the walls.”
“Help!” Justus shouted.
Suddenly the air rushed out of his lungs and a sharp pain burned his ribs. He gasped and struggled to get air.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you!” Andy growled inches from Justus’ face. Justus could feel his hot breath against his cheek. “If you insist on being like the others, then we’re not going to get to have any fun.”
The memory of the box of cell phones, wallets, and trinkets flashed in Justus’ mind.
It isn’t Dean. It’s Andy. He’s the killer.
Justus turned his head away from the coffee-and-cigarette stench of Andy’s breath. Andy’s rough hand closed tightly around Justus’ jaw and turned his face back.
“It’s more fun when you’re nice,” he breathed.
Justus felt Andy’s mouth cover his. Justus pursed his lips tight, resisting Andy’s attempts to pry them open with his wet tongue.
Andy drew back. “Be nice,” he snarled. He covered Justus’ nose until he had to open his mouth to get a breath. At that moment Andy seized the opportunity and went in for the kiss. Justus brought his teeth down hard on Andy’s lower lip and bit.
Andy shrieked and pulled away. “You bitch!”
Justus did not see it coming but felt the blow when his head wa
s jerked to the side and his jaw cracked with pain.
“I have a mind to yank every one of those goddamned teeth out of your head. Where are my pliers?” Andy started looking around.
“No!” Justus shouted. “No, please. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”
Andy stopped and walked back over to him. “Promise?” he said but looked wary.
“I promise,” Justus answered. He tasted blood in his mouth but was not sure if it was his or Andy’s. He turned his head and spit it out.
Andy took hold of Justus by his jaw and turned his head until they looked each other in the eyes. “You really should be more cooperative. I don’t like rushing,” he said. Gently he ran his hand over Justus cheek and drew in for a kiss. Justus did not resist this time.
Out of breath, Andy pulled away and put his head on Justus’ bare chest. “Wow,” he said. “You’re good. A lot better than that last one.” He began kissing Justus’ chest, moving down his belly.
Oh god no! Please don’t let this happen.
Andy took hold of the front of Justus’ jeans and undid the top button. A cell phone rang from somewhere above them. Andy stopped.
“Damn it!” he cursed and stood up. “I’ll be right back. Then we can finish.” He turned away and disappeared into the shadows. Justus could hear the sound of Andy’s shoes on wooden stairs. Moments later, a door opened and light from above illuminated Justus’ surroundings. Andy had left the door open.
At last, Justus was able to see. The basement was not much of one. It was the underside of the house, with a rather shoddily framed wall enclosing the support poles. Sheets of plywood covered the outside of the framing, blocking out the light and the view of any nosy neighbors. There were places in the framing that Justus assumed were where windows would eventually go, but those too had been plywooded over. Still, there were enough cracks and spaces between the sheets that a little light seeped through. Even with what little knowledge he had of construction, the work did not strike Justus as being professionally done.
In front of him were piles of bagged concrete mix, a couple wheelbarrows turned on their sides, and a few five-gallon plastic buckets. Justus wiggled and squirmed, trying to twist around to see behind him but all he could manage to see was a mound of dirt to his right.
Upstairs he heard the muffled sound of Andy’s voice.
“Can it wait? I’m sort of in the middle of something—Fine,” he snapped. “I’ll be right there.”
Moments later Andy stomped down the wooden stairs, leaving the door above open. He walked over to Justus.
“Sorry, guy, this will have to wait; seems my wife can’t handle her little bitch.” He pulled the leather gag from his back pocket and stretched it out.
“No, please,” Justus begged. “I won’t yell. I’ll be good.”
Andy smiled and stopped. The leather strap was inches from Justus’ mouth. He looked deep into Justus’ eyes and lowered the gag. “You promise to be a good boy?”
“Oh yes,” Justus answered feeling a glimmer of hope fill his chest.
“Are you sure I can trust you?”
“Yes. I promise.”
Andy appeared to mull it over. The smile suddenly disappeared from his lips. “Why tempt you,” he said and swiftly tied the gag in place once again. “I won’t be long,” he said while he headed back up the stairs.
Please don’t close the door.
Andy must have been in a hurry. He batted at the door with the obvious intention of shutting it, but it only closed a few inches, leaving enough light that Justus could still see.
Once he heard the front door slam shut, Justus tried to free his mouth of the gag. Now that he had seen it, he tried wetting the leather strap by drooling on it to loosen it. His mouth started to feel dry. He pushed his head back between his arms, hoping to use them to work the gag free.
Once his arms were in front of him, he was able to look up and see that his wrists were cuffed. A thick chain was attached to one leather cuff and then looped around a heavy beam high above him before coming down to the other cuff. There was no way he could break it.
He tried for several minutes to free his mouth from the gag by working the leather strap down the side of his face but it was no use. Andy had secured it too well. He pushed his head back between his arms and looked down at his feet. Another set of leather cuffs were wrapped around his ankles. A rope, anchored on something behind him, kept them in place and prevented him from being able to turn around.
He thought about the ringing cell phone.
Please let it have been Harry.
Justus was unaware of how long Andy had been gone. At some point he had dosed off. When he woke, his arms and shoulders ached and his hands felt numb. He wiggled his fingers in an attempt to get his blood circulating, but he was not even sure they actually moved.
A sound of snapping twigs outside the makeshift wall caught his attention. There was a thud behind him. Justus pulled against his restraints and tried to turn toward the noise but failed. The most he could accomplish was to twist his torso slightly. A sharp pain in his ribs where Andy had hit him prevented him from trying again.
“Help!” he screamed, but only a muffled groan came from his gagged mouth. Still, he kept trying to call out as the sound of snapping twigs and knocking continued to advance along the wall, closer and closer.
Out of breath, Justus stopped screaming.
There was silence. Something outside moved in front of the sliver of light between the boards, blocking out the sun.
Oh my god, what if it’s a bear? Justus’ mind began spinning.
Whatever was outside moved but continued to block the light. Justus held his breath.
All at once it moved away and then there was a light knocking.
“Is anyone in there?” a woman’s voice whispered loud enough for Justus to hear.
With renewed strength, Justus began to writhe and scream as loudly as he could. He pulled against the chains trying to make them jingle.
Something pushed against the weak spot in the wall where the light shone through. The boards bowed slightly and something that might have been the end of a crowbar pierced the gap, widening it. Justus looked up at the doorway above. No sign of Andy.
He looked back at his rescuer and pleaded with her to hurry but be quiet. However, the gag kept him from actually talking to her.
The boards creaked and groaned against the nails but finally began to loosen. A hand took hold of the edge of one piece of plywood and pulled, prying a section of it loose.
The sunlight that burst through the opening was blinding. Justus turned his head away and blinked, willing his eyes to adjust faster to the bright light.
He looked back at the opening and that was when he saw her. Like an angel surrounded in a halo of light, she leaned into the opening and looked inside.
“Oh my god,” she gasped. “Hang on, son, I’ll help you.”
Justus felt his body relax. He watched while she tore another section of the plywood away.
“Almost there, honey,” she continued to talk to him.
Her voice and her words betrayed her age. She had to be older than him. No girls his age ever called him son or honey. She must be old, Harrison’s age at least, he thought. His eyes began to tear with relieved anticipation.
She tore the last piece of wood away and tossed it somewhere behind her. When the hole was big enough, she stepped through.
Once inside, with the light shining on her, Justus saw he was right. She was an older woman with amazing strength. Her white hair was cut short and permed. Her face bore the creases of time around her thin lips and dark eyes. Her mouth gaped when she looked around the unfinished basement.
“Oh my god,” she said a little quieter than her previous exclamation. “What on earth?” She walked past Justus, her eyes fixed on something behind him. He twisted and tried to see but pain and the chains prevented him from turning.
Justus grunted and shook his head in an attempt to get her at
tention.
“Oh, yes,” she said and hurried back to him. She stepped in front of him and reached up to undo the gag. “Here you go.”
There was a sickening thud, like the sound of a watermelon hitting the floor. The woman’s smiling eyes changed to a blank stare. Justus looked down at the growing red spot in the center of her chest. She fell to the ground at his feet, revealing Andy holding a bloody pickax in his hands.
Justus’ heart raced as fear gripped him.
“Now look what you made me do,” Andy said in a tone that reminded Justus of his father’s when he was disgusted. “You’ve been a naughty boy.”
Justus shook his head and tried to explain but the gag prevented his words. Andy appeared to ignore him. He was too busy looking at the bloody pickax in his hands.
“Damn it!” he cursed. “Now I have to buy another one. I’ll never be able get the blood off this.” He looked at Justus and shook his head.
Andy tossed the pickax somewhere past Justus before he disappeared into the shadows under the house. There was the sound of metal hitting metal and then Andy emerged, dragging a large, old oil barrel with him. He stopped beside the fallen angel and took off the metal lid.
“This is your fault,” he sneered at Justus. He bent down and picked up the body, dumping it headfirst into the barrel. He replaced the lid and pounded around the edges, sealing it shut. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and glared at Justus. Grabbing a shovel from the pile of concrete mix, he walked to the corner behind Justus.
Justus twisted and tried to turn to see what Andy was going to do but his restraints kept him facing away. He closed his eyes and bit down harder on the gag in his mouth. His teeth dug into the leather strap. He heard the sound of the shovel piercing the dirt. His body relaxed slightly. Andy was not going to strike him with it.
Andy seemed to dig for a long time. Justus could hear him becoming winded and panting behind him. When the digging stopped, Andy walked back into view. Dirt covered his clothing, and his face was streaked by sweat. He did not say a word or even look at his prisoner. Instead, he pulled the barrel onto its side and pushed it over to the hole. Justus heard the thud when it fell to the bottom. There was more digging, but this time Justus imagined dirt filling what he now knew was a grave.