“Where are we supposed to find a gangster in a place like this?” Gideon asked.
“Why don't we split up? Fouchbough is small enough, we should be able to do a bit of searching apart. Let's meet here at the end of the day, I'd like to sleep outside the city, this place bothers me,” Leanin said.
Gideon set off to the east, along a main thoroughfare. The street was lined with small homes, most of which had porches with rocking chairs at the front. There were simple shops with hand painted signs at the top, but no restaurants nor bars that he could see. Finally, after searching for over an hour, he came to a small shop that had a chipped sign reading, 'Blind Tiger,' in which people were drinking something inside. The roof was bent in the west corner, sagging low, and the walls were an unpainted wood. The corners of each window had dirt that covered it like frost, the centers were the only clear part. As Gideon walked up the steps a loose nail in the handrail stabbed him in the palm, drawing blood.
Inside the establishment there were a few tables sparsely populated and a long wooden bar. The walls had a series of shelves with glowing jars on them, Gideon took a closer look and found that each jar contained a different animal, long since dead and floating in a pale yellow liquid. There were hundreds of them around the place, illuminating the room in a watery and thin light. Behind the bar a hulk of a man towered, writing something down in a notebook and not paying any particular attention to Gideon.
He sidled up to the bar and leaned on his elbows. “I'd like a whiskey, please,” he said.
The bartender didn't look up. “Speak easy, friend. Easy,” he grunted.
Gideon leaned over and saw that the bartender was not writing anything at all, but rather drawing a picture of a flower. “I'd like a whiskey please,” Gideon repeated, this time in a whisper.
The bartender stretched to his full height and frowned down at Gideon, finally taking his attention from the drawing. His knuckles whitened around the pencil in his fist and Gideon could see the man's jaw clench.
A hand descended quickly on Gideon's shoulder, startling him. To his side, dressed in a somber black robe with an 'A' swinging from his neck, Akem Manah stood with a grin on his face. “Relax, brother Simon. I'll explain things to our friend here.” The bartender shrugged and went back to his drawing. Akem looked strange dressed in the black robe, a frilly white shirt coming out from around his collar, but his grin was as sharp as ever. “You want to be careful how you do things. Fouchbough is a dry city.”
“What do you mean?” Gideon asked.
Akem caught the bartender's attention and tapped two fingers to his right eye. The bartender nodded, and within moments was setting before them two large glasses of brown liquid. Gideon tried it and coughed, it burned his throat and made his eyes water.
“Drugs, alcohol, and prostitution are all illegal here," Akem said. "You couldn't get a drink asking outright for it if you tried.”
Gideon sniffed at the drink in front of him. “So how is it we're in a bar and you just ordered us two drinks?”
“We're not in a bar, we're in the Blind Tiger. Didn't you take a look around? This is a freak show, and what happens under the table no one talks about.”
“Akem, what are you doing here?” Gideon asked.
The smaller man gave him an exaggerated wink. “The more people try to structure and reign in humanity, the more I thrive. I do very good business in a city like Fouchbough." He shrugged. "And maybe I am looking after my investment as well. You haven't found her yet, have you?”
Gideon sighed. “No, but I got a name from Daniel.”
“You got more than a name, from what I hear,” Akem said with a grin.
“Malakir bought her, apparently, but I don't know where he operates," Gideon said. "I was going to ask the bartender if he knew where Malakir was, but if I can't even order a drink right I don't know what hope I have.”
Akem sucked loudly at his sharp teeth. “I know where Malakir is."
Gideon's heart skipped a beat and his face lit up. “You do? Tell me, show me, I have to go there at once. No, I should get Leanin first.”
Akem laughed, a low rumble that sent a chill down Gideon's spine. “You are such an innocent child, I love that. Tell me, why should I help you find one of my competitors to give him my money when you haven't even repaid your original debt to me?”
The bubble of elation in Gideon popped and his shoulders slumped. “I did a favor for you. And I can give you your money back, and your suit. It's hardly been worn.”
Akem lit up a thin black cigarette. “I have no need, nor desire, for the money or the suit. And who said that the favor covered the entire debt?”
“What can I give you?” Gideon asked. A creeping fear had wormed its way into the pit of his stomach and he thought of the two lovers, hanging from their tree, hand in hand.
“Such an innocent. Don't worry, I have plans for how you can pay me back. And one thing you can do for me is easy. In fact, it's something I'm asking you not to do.”
Gideon cocked an eyebrow at him. The man had a way of speaking, it was very vague, like wisps of smoke on the wind. There was always the feeling that they were playing a game, a game where the rules were never explained but the stakes were astronomically high.
Akem took a piece of paper and wrote something down on it. “Malakir's address. Now, when you get there, you will probably find some nice little present and things will play out as they always do with innocents. Feel free, but after you leave his house you cannot get involved in what happens in the town.”
Gideon was confused, trying to keep track of all the pieces of the game he was playing. “I don't understand, what do you mean, find a present?”
“That's okay. I'll simplify. Do what you will in the house, but once outside you have to let things happen as they will, okay?”
“What's going to happen?” Gideon asked.
Akem smiled reassuringly and waved a hand, brushing the question aside. “I can't predict the future, but I can guess. It's a time honored tradition, you don't need to know the particulars, but you have to swear you won't get involved. Let things play out as they will.” Akem held out his right hand, his left holding the slip of paper with Malakir's address on it. Gideon hesitated for a moment before clasping hands with him. “Good, we can consider part of your debt repaid then.” He gave Gideon the slip of paper. “You will find Malakir on the north side of town, he operates a brothel called 'The Sparrow's Nest.'” Clapping him on the shoulder, Akem stood. “Remember, do what you will in the house, but after that leave things to happen as they will.”
Gideon nodded and watched Akem walk out the door. He had never noticed it before, but Akem walked with a slight limp, as though his shoes didn't quite fit correctly. He shook off the thought and went to meet Leanin.
...
“I couldn't find out anything,” Leanin said. “Everyone seems so self-righteous here. Daniel must have been lying.”
Gideon shook his head. “He's here. I've got the address.”
“How did you get it? I couldn't get anyone to talk to me.”
Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he avoided eye contact with her. “Is it important how? I got it, let's leave it at that.”
Leanin shrugged but kept her eyes on Gideon as he walked through the streets and headed north.
The Sparrow's Nest was a short grey building in the midst of a few square blocks of short, grey buildings, each separated by a few yards of grass. There was no sign on the front door, only an overly large peephole and a red light bulb hanging above it. On the front stoop crushed cigarette butts in various states of decay littered the ground. They never would have found it without the address.
Going in as buyers was out of the question, they didn't have the money and L
eanin didn't think that she could act the part if she needed to. They snuck to the backside of the building. One of the windows was cracked open on the second floor and there was a ladder lying on its side a few houses down. As quietly as they could they climbed up the side of the house.
The cracked window led into a vacant bedroom; the walls were bare and a bed with the covers pulled to one side sat in the middle of the floor. There were no personal belongings nor pictures, but there was a garbage can to the side of the bed that was filled with used condoms, the smell of week old ejaculate wafting from it.
Outside the room there was a long hallway carpeted in red. It was lined with doors that had plastic name tags hung next to them with names like, “Chandra,” and “Lilly.” The soft sob of a woman crying came from behind a door labeled, “Vivian.” Leanin stepped forward and reached for the doorknob before Gideon pulled her back and the door swung open of its own accord. They stayed in the shadows as a man stepped out of the room and walked away from them down the hallway. He was dressed in a long and flowing black robe with a strap of white frills draping around his shoulders. A large hat with three pillars jutting out the top sat high on his head.
When he had gone Leanin and Gideon listened at the door, they could hear a stifled whimpering sound coming through. Gideon pushed open the door and stepped through first, his mouth gaping open when he saw what was inside. It was as sparse as the other, though lying on the stained mattress in this room was a tied up young woman. She was naked and splayed, a limb to each corner of the bed, and her dark hair was clumped thick with some sort of fluid. Her skin was rubbed raw in places, bleeding in others, tape covering her mouth. Leanin rushed to her and slashed the cords that bound her hands and legs. As soon as she was free the woman snapped into a cocoon like shape, her knees touching her head, as though she could fold into herself until she disappeared completely.
“Gideon, I have to take her out of here,” Leanin said. "I know we're on a mission, but," her eyes were wide, face pale, and hands shaking. “I need to get this girl home. You'll have to find Malakir by yourself. I'll come back to help look if you want, but I have to do this.”
Gideon took a deep breath and resisted the urge to pull at his hair in frustration. He couldn't stop Leanin, but without her help he wasn't sure he'd be able to detain Malakir himself. “Go, I'll keep looking around, see if I can't find Rolanda. I won't confront Malakir, though, unless I can get him alone.”
Leanin nodded and they left him. Gideon stepped gingerly down the hallway, trying other doors. The rooms were in much the same condition; shabby, empty, but with a bed and a garbage can. Gideon found no other occupants. At the end of the hallway there was a staircase that wound down, opening up to a large but dimly lit room. There was nowhere else, he was forced to stop hiding and simply try to blend in. It wasn't difficult, there was a whole crowd of men dressed in black robes in that room. They paid him no mind, he milled amongst them without a second glance, their eyes were all pasted to the front of the room, where there was a stage with three naked women dancing on poles. The place was lit a neon red and there was some sort of dance music playing, giving the room and everything in it a bloody, beating heart feel to it. Rolanda wasn't there.
When one dancer finished, they walked to the side of the stage and down a little stepladder, disappearing behind a door as another came up from the opposite side of the room. Gideon followed the leaving dancer, staying to the shadows, the pounding music kept him from being heard.
The hallway bent at a sharp right angle, the walls bare red bricks. The woman stepped through a door and Gideon followed, expecting another hallway. Instead he found himself in a room full of women staring at him.
It was a small space, and crowded. The floor was lined with cots no more than a few inches apart, the walls the same bare brick as the hallway, and it was cold. Almost all the cots had a young woman on them, some younger than others, the women in various states of undress. They looked at him with large, quiet eyes, the eyes of nervous animals. Rolanda was not among them.
“Please, don't be frightened,” Gideon said, “I'm looking for a woman that was taken from me, my fiance.” He pulled out his photograph and moved among them, holding it forward. “Have any of you seen her?”
One of the girls, her hair platinum blonde but showing brown at the roots, reached for the photograph and took a long look at it. She was wearing pajama bottoms and a glittery black bra with tassels coming out of the front. “She was here about a week ago. She danced a few times, but she was very bad at it. Not many tips. Father superior gave her a black eye and she was gone the next day.”
“Do you know where she went? It's very important.”
“Malakir probably took her. He takes the ones who won't dance,” she said.
Gideon sat down on an open cot and the women moved away from him. He was losing her, he could feel it deep inside. The thought crossed his mind that things would be better for him if he had stayed dead and buried the first time, but then little details about Rolanda pushed that thought away.
She had a mole on her stomach, just above where her thigh curved tantalizingly inward. He loved to kiss it, to sneak lower and lower until she stopped him. That was a lifetime ago, but at times he could still smell the fresh scent of spring that always hung around her. She was worth dying for, and worth crawling out of that grave for, she certainly had to be worth continuing for. A light touch on his hand startled him out of his revelry.
“Next stop on the track is out in Imperium. Malakir owns another place there, rumor is that that's where he takes them to be broken.” She held his hand and looked him in the eyes. “I am married, or was, I guess. They killed my husband when he tried to save me. You keep looking, but be careful.”
Gideon thanked the girls and left. Perhaps he really had died in that grave they buried him in. This certainly felt like hell.
Chapter Six
Leanin wasn't at the spot they were supposed to meet. Gideon sat and waited for a bit, picking up clumps of dirt and letting it sift through his fingers. Dirt on the surface doesn't feel anything like dirt six feet down. That dirt was stiffer, colder, chock full of little rocks that tore open fingernails.
A hum in the distance caught Gideon's attention. It was growing steadily louder, sounding faintly like a large hive of bees buzzing. He walked down the main thoroughfare towards the noise, and as it grew louder the little buzzes separated, it was several people shouting at once. He followed the noise slowly, his eyes darting this way and that, but the street he walked on was deserted. When he got close enough, he could hear individual voices, people were shouting out things like, “Harlot!” and “Slut!”
Gideon rounded a corner and was confronted with a large crowd of people all facing towards something. They were wearing the black robes and the wooden necklaces that seemed to be the standard garb here.
He elbowed his way through the crowd, every person who was shouting seemed to be holding a small pile of rocks in their arms.
In the center of the crowd were two people he recognized, the man with the tri-pointed hat, and the woman whom Leanin had saved. She had her arms tied behind her back, blood was trickling out of her mouth and her eyes were wide with fear. A trail of urine ran down her leg and puddled underneath her. The man in black held on to her with one arm while waving for silence with another. As the people quieted down Gideon saw Leanin, she was at the edge of the crowd, being held back by two large men straining to hold on to her. She too was bloodied around the face, but she was fighting tooth and nail.
“My people,” the man cried out as the crowd finally settled, “it is a very sad day today. The family of Arisa here,” he nodded to one side of the circle where a fat ruby faced man held hands with a grey haired old woman, “has come to me, their priest, and informed me of her tran
sgressions. They told me earlier today that she has been selling her body, whoring herself to any who would pay, and confessed as much to them. She has revealed her true nature to our community, and we cannot allow her to taint our other children with her wickedness.”
A man came out from the side of the crowd gingerly holding a small mason jar full of liquid. He carried it with outstretched arms, walking very slowly so as not to spill a drop. The priest took the jar and nodded his thanks.
“We are not uncaring, though. We will not send her to the maker unclean, we will redeem her soul so that she may find peace in the afterlife.” The priest took Arisa by the hair and pulled back so that her face was tilted upwards. Leanin renewed her struggles and the men almost lost their hold on her. Holding her by the hair, the priest tipped the jar over Arisa, slowly pouring it down her face. As soon as the liquid touched her she began to give off horrible shrieking wails of pain. A wisp of smoke came the liquid and her skin bubbled and boiled, slipping off her. She jerked and kicked but the priest held her tight.
Gideon couldn't watch any more, he started to run forward to help, but an iron grip grabbed him from behind and pulled him back. Turning, he gasped at the face of the person detaining him. The thin and dragon-like features of Akem smiled back at Gideon.
His insides shuddered as he was silently reminded of his promise, he hadn't known it would be like this. Though he stopped struggling, Akem kept hold of him, not saying a word but rather watching as the woman was cleansed.
After the priest emptied the bottle he stood away and joined the rest of the crowd. Arisa's family had turned their faces from the spectacle, while Leanin continued to struggle against the men holding her. Her face was red with exertion and her muscles stood out taught and ropey. The men holding her back were huffing and puffing with the effort it took to keep her in check.
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