Simon nodded. “Like I said, this has got to stop.”
“Oh,” said Johan, rinsing the plate under a steaming trickle of water. “I see. Yes, then. We’ve stopped. No more. You’ve shown us the error of our ways.” He placed the plate in the drying rack. “Fuck off, Simon!”
“I knew you’d be like this.”
“Be like what? Refusing to do as you say? You’re damn right there, old mate. We’re having fun, that’s all. You know that. You know that most of them have it coming too.”
Simon shook his head and closed the door.
“Look, sooner or later, you’re going to get caught. Last night you let one get away!”
Johan laughed. “She didn’t get away, trust me.” He washed his hands and leaned back against the sink, drying them with a tea towel. “I’ve been keeping track of things. You have to be careful, and that’s exactly what I am.”
A particularly loud groan of pleasure penetrated through the wall, followed by a cheer.
“Those three will do whatever you tell them,” said Simon. “Please, stop this. Enough is enough.”
Johan tapped his chin, surveying Simon. “This is her, isn’t it?”
“Her? I don’t know what you mean.”
“I think you do. It’s the girl, the snail trail you’ve settled down with. This is her doing.”
Simon threw his head back and laughed. “Unbelievable! I should have known you’d blame this on a woman.”
“I never thought I’d hear you say that,” said Johan. “It’s her. She’s made you go soft. I wondered why we hadn’t seen you around. You’ve been holed up with her, playing the happy couple.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“No, no. I get it now.” Johan paced the kitchen. “Who would’ve thought that you of all people would finally settle down?” He shook his head and turned back to Simon, the grin gone from his face. “What have you told her?”
“Told her? About what?”
“About this!”
Simon swallowed. “Nothing. Why would I tell her? You think she’d want to stay with me if she knew?”
Johan increased his pacing.
“You had better be telling the truth,” he muttered. “Because if you’re not, we could be in a shit load of trouble here.”
“Yes!” cried Simon. “I know. Which is why I haven’t told her. Believe me!”
Johan stopped and surveyed Simon. “I suppose you’re right.” He approached the sink and picked up the tea towel. He removed the plate from the drainer and dried it. With a sigh, Johan opened a cupboard and placed it inside. “There. All done for now.”
“So where does this leave things?”
Johan laughed. “I don’t think it leaves them anywhere. The only difference between now and yesterday is you getting nervous. It’ll take more than that for us to stop.” He walked over to Simon and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “You know that what we do is right. Someone has to teach them the error in their ways. Women have to pay.”
“They’ve paid enough, Johan.”
Johan hung his head and dropped his hand.
“I’ll make a bargain with you. I’ve not been thinking about stopping, but maybe cutting down, eh? Things are getting a little too risky. Last night was a wake up call.”
“I’m glad you’re finally seeing sense,” said Simon, relief in his voice.
“Listen to what I’m saying,” said Johan. “I won’t stop. Neither will the guys. But we will go easy for a while. Come on; let’s go watch the rest of the film.”
Simon shook his head. “I really should be going.”
Johan laughed.
“She really has got you on a short leash. I wouldn’t put up with that kind of behaviour.”
“Drop it.”
Johan laughed again and opened the kitchen door. The sounds of frantic sex grew louder.
“Listen to that,” said Johan. “And you want us to stop?”
9.
Drip…drip…drip…
Nat slowly looked up, fighting the weight of her eyelids. The back of her skull throbbed. With a shaking hand, she reached behind her head and ran her fingers through her hair. She reached her scalp. It felt slick. An examination of her fingers showed blood, thick and red.
She groaned and tried to sit up, but her beaten body refused to cooperate. She fell back on the cold ground like a drunk. The dripping continued from all around her, like she’d awoken beneath a gentle waterfall.
“H-Help…” she said, again trying to sit. She lasted a little longer before her weak arms gave in. She gulped down a foul tasting breath. “Someone! Help me!”
She rolled onto her back and stared at the low ceiling.
A soft glow rippled across the brick, which curved over her in a wide arch. She realised she was in some kind of tunnel, and the dancing glow was a reflection off water nearby.
She remembered there were two of them. Her kidnappers hadn’t talked on the way down here, at least not until she’d banged her head.
Nat moved her legs. The fabric of her jeans had soaked through. She smelled like she’d bathed in shit.
I’m in the sewers, she thought. Those bastards have brought me into the sewers!
She ignored the stench and dragged in another deep breath. Forcing herself, she sat up.
Her head seemed to lurch to the side despite staying still. She fought the sensation and closed her eyes tight. The nausea passed.
She pushed against the floor and rose into a wobbling stand. She swayed on her feet. With her arms wrapped tight around her shivering body, Nat glanced around at her surroundings.
She did indeed stand in a tunnel, the roof suspended just above her head. The rear ended in a wall, long ago dominated by mould. Green streaks covered the brick like a map of a strange new world. A pile of rags and torn clothing were heaped in one corner, the only thing other than Nat in the cell. Thick wooden bars sealed the tunnel from the main chamber.
She screamed and ran at the door to the cell. It too had been crafted from random pieces of wood. Its haphazard design gave it the appearance of some natural surrealist sculpture or something from a fun house.
Nat grabbed one of the criss-crossed planks of wood and furiously tugged and pushed. Her cries and panicked moans echoed around the small room, joined by the rattling of the padlock on the door. She forced a hand through one of the gaps and grabbed the lock. Her pulls did nothing. She gave up, releasing the slippery metal.
Tears threatened. Nat gritted her teeth and held them back. If she started to cry, that would be the end. She knew they’d be back…
Her shoes were missing, but apart from that she appeared untouched. Her bag had gone.
“Damn it,” Nat hissed, frantically thinking. She had no hairpin to pick at the lock, or anything strong enough to attack the bars. Her attention turned to the floor, darting around the filthy and moist ground for anything that might help. Towards the rear of her cell, she noticed some of the more rotten bricks poking from the wall.
She scurried over and tried to pry one of them out. It refused to budge at first, but loosened as Nat’s fingers dug into the sides and pried it outwards. It fell to the floor with a dull thunk.
She quickly scooped it up and staggered to the door of the cell. She felt along its rough edges and ignored the splinters pricking her fingers. She found a hinge: a small chunk of wet metal that flaked under her touch. She pulled her hand away and rubbed the flakes of rust between her fingertips.
It will break, she thought. It has to break.
She gripped the brick with both hands and raised it over her head. Her intention to bring it smashing down on the hinge stopped at the sound of deep laughter from the other side of the room.
Nat froze.
A pocket of darkness rose in the corner of the chamber. She peered through the bars and tried to make out the vague shape. Footsteps sloshed through water and towards her. From the poor light from a tunnel, Nat saw a pair of legs step into view. The pants covering them
appeared no more than a mass of rags. Patches of denim, sacking, fabric and even animal pelts adorned the two thick legs. Nat gasped at the sheer size of them. Each looked to be as thick as her waist and long enough to reach her chest.
Her visitor took another step forwards. The feet, shoed in some kind of black plastic bound with tight rope, sent waves cascading away in the low level of water.
Nat, keeping hold of the brick, backed away. Her head thumped against the rear of the wall.
“Awake. Girl awake,” a voice growled. She recognised the simple speech from earlier.
The speaker stepped up against the cage, grabbing one of the bars with great hands. It peered inside.
Nat screamed.
The thing’s head nearly reached the higher ceiling of the chamber. It bent over to study her, hunchbacked. Beady, black eyes surveyed Nat, occasionally blinking out drops of water that fell onto its face. Underneath its messy jacket, a t-shirt was stretched to capacity across its chest.
Oh fuck, her mind screamed.
The creature’s skin, even in this light, appeared to be a slightly mottled green, like the mould that had infected the walls. Perhaps it had wormed into this creature too.
The stench of the sewers penetrated the back of her throat. Her screaming became a series of choking barks.
The creature smirked.
“I think she no like smell,” it said. Nat stared at its mouth, watching it form the words. The thick lips curled over broken and jagged teeth.
She threw the brick. It sailed through the air and passed between the bars to strike the creature in the shoulder. It bounced off and fell to the ground.
The giant laughed again. “Herman! She threw brick!”
A high and mocking laugh joined the creature’s low, guttural chuckles.
“Quickly, before the others come back. Get some! Get some now!”
The creature released the bars and patted its makeshift trousers. It frowned. “Not find it.”
“Then use your bare hands!”
It felt around its hips, then up to its chest. “Mmm,” it grunted, and slid a hand inside the jacket. It removed a tarnished butcher knife, which appeared tiny between its sausage-like fingers. “Okay. Me find it.”
“Then use it,” said the second voice. It sounded high and nasally, with a tone of arrogance, like a snotty college professor. “Use it, you fool!”
“Me no fool!” shouted the beast over its shoulder.
Nat watched, her back pressed into the cool wall. She scanned the floor for another brick.
The creature turned back towards her with a grin. It pointed the knife at her. “You be good, girly,” it said.
Nat glanced around her small cell, from wall to wall and up at the ceiling in vain. The only way out was through the door.
The creature fumbled with the lock.
“Too small,” it grumbled. “Hands big. Need bigger lock.”
Nat swallowed and closed her eyes for a moment. She tried to focus and still her trembling limbs.
The creature grinned as the lock clicked. “There,” it said.
Nat crept forwards a couple of feet. She closed her mouth to stop her breath pumping in and out. Her heart, now a frantic pendulum, seemed to thump against her ribcage.
“Stop wasting time,” ordered the sharp voice from the corner. “The others will be here any second. We can get the good bits!”
The hulking figure grabbed the door and swung it open.
“If you think easy, you come do it,” it said, looking over its shoulder again.
Nat ran at the open door and dove at the last second. She hit the floor on her stomach. Pain exploded beneath her. Her body hit the gathered water on the floor of the chamber and she slid along the floor through the beast’s open legs.
“Huh?” she heard it mutter.
Before her captor could turn, she jumped to her feet and fled towards the open tunnel. Her stomach and chest throbbed. With wet hair clinging to her face and poking her eyes, she didn’t dare look back.
“Get her!” wailed the voice from the darkness. “You can’t let her escape!”
With a roar, Nat entered the tunnel and ran down the narrow passage.
The tunnels and junctions passed by. Nat ran through each, not caring which direction she travelled. Left and right and right and left again.
She slipped on a walkway covered in green, fibrous slime and leaned against the wall to stop from falling. She looked back the way she’d come, but nothing had followed. Besides the rats, which darted around the tunnels in the dozens, she remained alone.
Taking a deep breath, which burned her throat, Nat pressed on. She aimed for the archway at the end.
Rats fled from her path. Her feet, with only thin tights covering them, slapped along the walkway. They had grown numb from the floor and ice cold water. She whimpered and held back the hysterical sobs.
She paused at the end and peered through the archway leading into the next chamber. She listened to her ragged panting, the steady drip-drip from the sewer ceiling and the playful splashing and squeaks of the rats.
A dim light glowed from a dirty hub at the centre of the ceiling revealing several wet pillars around the circular chamber. Her breath steaming, Nat descended a few steps into the standing water and gasped from its temperature. A grey scum of foam floated on top. Clear patches of water looked black. Nat shivered. The water reached her knees.
She cried out but quickly pressed her hands tightly over her mouth.
The next step left her standing waist deep in the dark water. She again closed her eyes, trying to find the will to go on.
She waded out into the chamber with her arms held over the surface. The water flowed stronger in here.
At the opposite side, another tunnel led away. Nat aimed for it. She breathed in through her mouth and grimaced. The air tasted sour.
Something scurried above her.
She stared up at the ceiling, her vision barely penetrating the darkness. That darkness seemed to have gathered between the pillars like a storm cloud. Nothing moved.
Rats… Just rats.
Nat strode on, her legs slowly sweeping through the water. Stones and rocks scraped her feet. She nearly slipped on something slimy and continued.
The noise sounded again with Nat halfway across the chamber. She pressed on, the exit tunnel about ten metres away.
Something brushed against her side.
She squealed and jerked away, nearly losing her balance on the treacherous ground.
A rat, its fur black as the water, paddled away. Its thick pink tail steered it like a rudder.
“Fuck,” Nat hissed. She stayed still and watched the rat swim away around the back of the closest pillar. She knew worse things lived in the tunnels, but the rat seemed bold.
A high-pitched screech from behind the pillar made her jolt.
She gasped, listening to the sounds of pain accompanied by a wet ripping.
Gaze focussed on the tunnel, Nat thrashed her way through the water. The foam broke. It covered her blouse and arms in a clinging film. Nat ignored the filth and concentrated on reaching the other side.
She staggered twice before reaching the black mouth of the tunnel. She walked into the entrance with her hands held out.
They snagged on something cold and thin.
“No,” she pleaded. “No, no, no…”
A metal wire was spread across the tunnel. It formed a lattice, with the gaps big enough to poke her hand through. The darkness of the tunnel had concealed it. Nat grabbed two of the strands and tried to pull them apart. They bent slightly in her grip but held tight.
“No!” she cried again, pushing at the wire.
Something sharp streaked down her back. Nat howled and darted around.
Nothing stood behind her. The foam on the water remained, riding the ripples her body caused.
Nat panted heavier, bent an arm back and felt the area between her shoulder blades. Wincing at the flair of tenderness, Nat held
her hand up to the weak light. If she was bleeding, the scum on her hand masked it well.
Desperate to get out of the water more than ever, Nat tried her best to run back to the entrance. The water held her back, like swimming in syrup.
Her back throbbed in a vertical line running from the base of her neck.
She tripped and despite flailing her arms, Nat fell forwards. Her head slipped under the water, and she shot back up, coughing and spluttering. She wiped her eyes and looked up.
A shadow flitted between two patches of darkness.
“Oh god,” said Nat. She staggered backwards.
Something swished through the air to her right. The fabric of her blouse snagged at her shoulder and her skin split. She screamed and clamped a hand down on the new wound.
The surface of the water remained still and the gushing water drowned out any other sound.
Shaken, Nat slid forwards and spread her arms through the water. She swam with her mouth tightly closed. Her head dunked underneath the foam again.
In front, something landed in the water with a heavy splash.
Nat threw her body back and tried to regain her footing on the slippery bottom. Her upper body burst from the water.
A few feet away, a figure blocked the entrance to the tunnel. It stood with the water’s surface touching its chin. It looked like a floating head. Thick hair formed two points at either side of its head, lending it a triangular shape.
Nat retreated backwards from the monstrosity.
What the fuck is it?
The nose appeared flat with two slits for nostrils. Long front teeth hung over the bottom lip. Its eyes darted around inside their sockets. It twitched.
With her mouth hanging open, Nat backed further away and turned.
A similar creature hung from the pillar closest to her.
Nat’s scream echoed around the chamber.
It appeared identical to the other and wore rags the same as the behemoth from her cell. It smiled and held up its hand. Underneath the glow of the central hub, its claws seemed to glow. Thick, ivory nails protruded from each finger. It clutched the mutilated remains of a rat. Still smiling at Nat, it raised the bloody mess to its face and tore a strip of meat free with its pointed front teeth.
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