Nat stepped back and yelped as pain leapt across the side of her neck. She instinctively covered the injury and looked back.
The first creature had approached her in silence. It pulled a hand away, one of the claws bloody.
Nat looked between the two, rooted to the spot. Any sudden movement could bring on a flurry of sweeping claws and teeth.
She exhaled and prepared to strike the first one to move.
The creature hanging from the pillar tore another mouthful of rat.
“Good. She found.”
Their heads tuned at the sound of the deep voice. Nat took a speedy step away, floundering in the murk.
In the tunnel leading into the chamber, a silhouette blocked what light shone through.
“Bring to me,” said the giant.
10.
Johan eyed the balls on the pool table.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said to the boys, “this shot is impossible. But as a hush fell over the crowd…”
He launched the cue forwards and after the clinks of several collisions, a red ball dropped into the corner pocket.
“And the crowd goes wild!” He straightened up and grinned at the others.
“Complete fluke,” said Richie. He held his own cue yet hadn’t taken a shot in the last five minutes. Johan had been potting balls from all angles. “Let’s see you get the next one.”
Johan smirked. He glanced over to Kev and Spence, who played on a fruit machine. He laughed at the intense looks on their faces, the flashing bulbs dancing in Spence’s glasses. Kev stuck his tongue out from the corner of his mouth in concentration.
Morons.
Johan walked around the table, studying the placement of the red and yellow balls. Spotting a moderately easy red near the centre pocket, he leaned over and lined up his cue.
The door to the pub swung open and crashed into the wall. Simon rushed in, his fists clenched at his sides.
Johan pulled the cue back and stood up. He picked up the chalk and rubbed the cue tip while watching him.
Simon, seeing Johan and Richie by the pool table, strode across the pub. Other drinkers moved out of his way. He didn’t seem to notice them. His eyes remained locked on Johan, his rapid breathing flaring his nostrils. Johan placed the cue on the green felt of the pool table, careful not to knock any of the balls.
“Simon, twice in one day,” he said. “For what do we owe—”
With a growl, Simon launched himself at Johan, grabbing the front of his shirt and pushing him back.
“You son of a bitch!” Simon shouted. “You fucker!”
Johan tripped over a low stool and toppled, Simon keeping hold. They both fell to the floor. Johan cried out on striking the carpet. Simon continued to scream and shake him.
“What have you done? Tell me! What have you done?”
Johan heard the cries of alarm from the boys and, seconds later, felt Simon being lifted up. He scuttled back, all the time watching Simon thrash in Richie and Spence’s grip.
“Calm down,” said Richie into Simon’s ear. “No need to make a scene.”
Johan climbed to his feet and looked over at Kev. Money dropped from the fruit machine into his fat and upturned palm.
“Well I wasn’t going to leave it!” he said.
“I’ll kill you!” Simon cried. “I’ll kill all of you!”
“Get him in the toilets,” said Johan.
Richie and Spence nodded and dragged Simon away with some difficulty. Kev stashed his winnings in his pocket and added his weight to the task.
With a small sigh of relief, Johan followed. He stopped and noticed most of the bar had been watching.
“Sorry, everyone,” he said. He held his hands up in apology. “Our friend there has had a little too much tonight. Got quite a temper.”
The other customers returned to their drinks. Satisfied they’d have a little privacy for the next few minutes, Johan joined the others in the men’s room.
The strip beam along the centre of the ceiling flickered and buzzed. The tainted air smelled of urine and old bleach. Johan walked across the wet, black tiles to the other side of the room. Kev and Richie had pinned Simon against the wall.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?” asked Richie, his voice shaking. “Huh? What the hell?”
“Let go of me!” cried Simon. He tried furiously to break free of their hold.
Spence turned to Johan. “We can’t get any sense out of him. It’s like he’s gone rabid or something.”
Johan shooed him to the side.
“Simon,” he said calmly, “my old friend. If I have done something to offend you, then by all means, I apologise—”
“Offend me?” screamed Simon. “Offend me? You arrogant son of a bitch!”
Kev grunted and shoved Simon back against the wall.
“These two are going to let go of you now,” Johan continued. “And if you come anywhere near me, they’ll break your arms. Understand?
Simon roared and surged forwards. Kev and Richie pushed him back.
“I see. Take the fight out of him.”
Kev nodded. Bringing his arm back, he punched Simon in the stomach.
Simon exhaled sharply and sagged. Another few blows finished the job.
“That’s better,” said Johan.
Richie and Kev held the limp figure up.
“Maybe now we can talk…” He tilted his head and studied Simon. “Or gasp. Whatever works.”
Simon sucked in a long breath and slumped back against the wall, clutching his belly.
Richie and Kev looked to each other and nodded. They stepped back.
Johan placed a hand on Simon’s shoulder and leaned closer.
“What’s the matter? I thought we were fine after our little chat this morning.”
“What…have you…done with…her…?” Simon winced and held his stomach tighter.
“Her?” said Johan. He frowned. “Who? We’ve been here all night. I told you I’d tone it down, remember?”
“Don’t…lie to me,” said Simon. He stood straight and groaned.
Johan grabbed one of Simon’s arms and lifting it up, he draped it around his shoulders.
“Come on,” he said and started to help Simon towards the door. “We can talk about this over a drink. That is if we are allowed to stay after your little outburst.”
“We’ll check it out,” said Spence. He walked out, followed by Kev and Richie. The door slammed shut.
“I won’t go anywhere with you,” Simon wheezed. He broke away and staggered a few steps.
“What is it I’m supposed to have done?” Johan asked. “You come in here, fists blazing, shouting the odds. At least give me a goddamn clue.”
“Natalie!” Simon cried. The word boomed out in the small room like a gunshot. “What have you done to her?”
Johan laughed. “You think that we’ve done something to her? Come on, mate! You think I’d do that to you?”
“The way you spoke about her this morning,” explained Simon. “The way you blamed everything on her. I could tell you wanted her out the way. ”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“I know you, Johan. I know how you think. Not only was she spoiling things in your eyes, but she’s a girl. I know what you’d do to her anyway!”
Johan shook his head. “I can assure you, I have nothing to do with this. The boys have been with me all day and besides, they’re too chicken shit to do anything without me. What makes you think that something has happened to her?”
Simon leaned against a sink and rubbed his stomach.
“She’s gone. I can’t find her anywhere.”
“What about her phone? Have you tried calling her?”
“That was the first thing I did,” he said. He slammed a fist down on the sink. “Where is she?”
Johan approached him. “Don’t worry. There’ll be some explanation. One that doesn’t involve us.”
Simon turned to him. Johan noticed the way his ey
es glistened.
“Swear,” said Simon. “Swear that you never touched her. Swear that you have no idea where she is.”
“I swear.”
Simon gazed back to the depths of the empty sink.
“If I knew,” he muttered. “If I knew what had happened to her and knew she was dead…” He turned and met John’s eyes. “I could…”
“Relax and move on? Come on,” said Johan. “You can’t stand in here and read the porcelain all night. We’ll get you a drink. Maybe we can come up with something if we all put our heads together.”
“It’s…it’s just so unlike her. I know she’s a little feisty, but she wouldn’t just disappear like this. Not without telling someone.”
“Standing around in the gents’ isn’t going to solve anything,” said Johan. “Go on out. One of the boys will get you a drink. It’ll settle your nerves. Try and calm down and we can sort this out together.”
Simon nodded.
Johan smiled. “What are friends for, eh?”
Simon approached the door, his head down and shoulders hunched.
“Simon, mate?”
He looked back over his shoulder at Johan.
“It’ll be nothing. You’ll see.”
Simon seemed to try a smile, but failed horribly. It looked to Johan that he would either faint, throw up, or both. “Thanks.”
The door swung closed behind him.
Johan approached the sink and turned on the cold water tap. He stared at his reflection in the overlooking mirror.
“Nasty,” he said. “Nasty business.” He splashed some water onto his face and observed his dripping face. He ran a hand down his face to sweep away the clinging droplets.
Whoever it is, they’ve done us a favour taking away that bitch of his, Johan thought.
He thought back to the anger Simon had showed on entering the pub and grinned.
His face still wet, Johan turned off the tap and walked to the door.
11.
Nat hit the ground and flopped onto her back, gasping.
The giant slammed the door of the cell closed. It clattered within its wooden frame. The padlock clicked shut.
“You not get out again,” he said.
In her absence, candles had been placed around the chamber. Their glow pressed back the darkness to the corners.
Around the edges of the chamber, the ground appeared to rise on a slope, creating a slight ledge out of the water around the room. All manner of furniture lay arranged around the border, above the water mark. An armchair, mould covering its fabric, had been dumped in the corner. Cupboards and chests of drawers stood warped by time and constant moisture, the candles scattered across each surface. Only the far corner exceeded the reach of the flickering light.
Nat moaned and climbed to her feet. She staggered over to the bars of the cell after the giant had moved away.
With Nat still soaking wet, the cold bit into her skin all over her body. She shivered and leaned against the bars, her legs trembling. She forced her teeth together to stop them from chattering.
“Yes,” the creature said, falling back into the armchair. It made a squelching noise underneath him. “Cold.” He looked upwards. “Go get wood.”
Nat followed his gaze and saw a network of thick pipes running across the high ceiling. At the sound of his voice, two pale faces appeared around the rusted metal. They looked at each other, sharp noses twitching.
“Now!” boomed the giant.
The two ratty creatures from the water-filled room leapt down, their feet hit the shallow water causing small ripples across the surface.
Their arms looked too long, the claws adding inches to each. The small monsters darted across the chamber and slipped into the tunnel in seconds.
“Twins get wood. They want to watch.”
Nat opened her mouth to speak, but no words escaped her lips. Fear clogged her throat, the sights of the chamber stamping out her thoughts.
“Yes! Yes!” came the high voice from the dark corner. Its whiney speaker still eluded Nat’s vision. “We’re alone with her again, brother! Do you still have your knife?”
The giant grinned and removed the weapon from his clothing.
“Good,” said the voice, followed by a slurping noise. Nat retreated to the rear of her cell. “Then go, Jacob. We’re hungry!”
The creature stashed the knife away.
“I think. Maybe leave girl for now. Maybe food come—”
“She snooped and she saw us!” snapped the voice. “Why can’t you get it through that huge, thick skull?” It sighed. “She’s dead, Jacob. Dead. And there won’t be any more food, beside the girl that is—”
Nat cried out.
The creature in the armchair growled.
“Don’t get in a mood with me,” said the voice from the corner. “We need to eat. Edgar is growing weak!”
“Is fine for you. Is us who do work.”
“Well, if I could get around better, I would too!”
A squeak rang out in the chamber from the dark corner.
Nat watched on, breathing in quick gasps.
Something black and bulky emerged into the light cast by the candles. It squeaked again, the cry of metal on metal. It moved forwards another few feet.
Nat realised it was a pram, the rusted wheels screaming beneath the body as they turned. It moved forwards again, propelled by an unseen force, further into the light. A hunched shape sat within.
“We all need feel sorry for Herman,” said the creature from the armchair. “All time, Herman complain.”
“You would too,” said the figure sat in the pram. “If you were stuck in this thing!” It stretched around. “Let’s see this girl.”
Nat snapped her eyes shut the moment it turned to her. The image had burned in her head.
The thing in the pram appeared skinned. Its surface looked red and slimy, criss-crossed with exposed muscle and sinew. Its mouth was nothing more than a puckered hole at the centre of its face. Two pure black eyes lay embedded above. She shuddered as it spoke.
“Not a pretty picture, eh?” It laughed. “I bet I look better than you will this time tomorrow.”
Nat screamed.
“More, Herman!” said Jacob. He clapped his hands together and bounced around in the armchair. “Taste better when afraid!”
Nat forced her eyes open.
Herman, with arms like long strips of raw beef, reached down to the wide wheel of the pram. With another squeal, he pulled them around another half turn. The pram crept closer to the bars of the cell. He peered inside.
“Not much meat on this one,” he said, his lipless mouth somehow forming the words. “Hope we can get it off her before the others return.”
Nat shrank away, moving to the far back of the cell and pressing against the brick wall.
“Seems nervous,” said Herman.
“Not nervous when she escape,” snorted Jacob.
“Yes,” Herman said and rubbed his chin. He brought his fleshy hand away and a thread of slime hung off. “Spirited. Very spirited.”
“Leave me alone!” Nat screamed.
Herman chuckled. “Look, Edgar,” he cooed and looked down. “Come look at your supper.”
The creature fumbled around the confines of the pram and lifted up a dripping bundle. It started to writhe. The object in his hands unravelled in a cascade of pale tentacles, which wrapped around Herman’s skinless arms. He lifted it higher.
At first, Nat thought the thing was a squid or octopus of some kind. As the many thin tentacles squirmed and separated, a face peeked out from within. Its mouth opened and released a small laugh of delight.
Nat thrust a hand over her mouth to keep from throwing up.
The grey-blue form clutched at the air with tiny, delicate hands.
“Mon Mon!” it cried.
“That’s right,” said Herman, in a sing song voice. “It’s Herman! Look at what your brother Jacob brought you.”
It’s a baby, thought
Nat. God help me, it’s a baby.
She watched Herman cradle the infant to his chest. He pushed aside the tangle of tentacles that sprouted from its body.
“Such a cute thing,” he said. “You have your momma’s eyes, don’t you? Don’t you, little one?” He gently popped a finger into its mouth. “There you go, baby Edgar. There you—aargh!” He whipped his hand out and shook it in the air. “He bit me!”
Jacob roared with laughter behind the pram. “Har har! Maybe baby tired of Herman, too!”
“Shut up!” Herman snapped. “Get in there and start cutting. The baby is obviously hungry.”
“No point,” said Jacob. He spread out in the armchair and placed his hands behind his head. “Need fire to cook. Need wood for fire.”
Herman turned quickly in the pram. It threatened to topple.
“Where have those twins got to?” he roared. “The baby is hungry. So am I. And it’s too bloody cold!”
Nat, rolling onto her side, pressed her hands over her ears to block the constant shouting and bickering from these freaks.
“I can’t wait!” cried Herman. He bounced up and down in the pram. It bounced and lurched backwards and forwards on its wheels. “I’m so hungry. Go in there now, Jacob.”
The motion set the infant crying. Its wailing echoed in the chamber and seemed to fill Nat’s head. She pressed harder.
“Herman!” yelled Jacob. “Shut baby up!”
“If you got in there and took the meat, it would be quiet. The girl is making noise now…”
Nat squeezed her eyes shut, wailing.
“What the hell is going on?” asked a new voice.
The noise in the chamber instantly stopped. Even the baby ceased its din.
Nat slowly opened her eyes. She sensed someone at the entrance to the chamber, standing within the shadows. The voice, which sounded deep and civil, came again.
“I leave you alone for a couple of hours, and this is what I come back to?”
That voice, thought Nat. I know that voice!
A bark echoed in the chamber.
Nat crawled across the floor to the wooden bars, her eyes fixed on the small shape sniffing at the ground there.
“J-Jenkins?”
Mother's Boys Page 10