The dog looked up and yapped again, its tail beating.
Nat looked over to the tunnel.
Max stepped into the candlelight, a white plastic bag in his hand. The twins and the whistling guy from the street lingered behind him.
“I’ll ask you again, Herman,” he said. “What the hell is going on?”
12.
“Erm…” said Herman. “Nothing! Nothing is going on! We weren’t doing anything!”
“Herman want food,” said Jacob. He remained watching from the soaked armchair. “He want food for baby Edgar.”
Max scowled. “Can’t you wait?”
Behind him, the whistling man shook his head. The twins scuttled up the wall and leapt onto one of the pipes and out of sight.
Max walked up to the pram, the bag swinging in his hand.
“It’s good that you did wait,” he said and held up the bag. “I have Mexican. Piping hot.”
Herman stayed quiet, but a thick black tongue slid from his mouth and wiggled in the air.
“That is,” continued Max, “if I let you have any.”
The tongue whipped back into Herman’s head. “That’s not fair! I’m the oldest. Who are you to decide?”
Max passed the bag to the whistling man, who removed the paper bound packages from within and spread them out on a chest of drawers. The smell of spicy beef and peppers fought against the stench of sewage.
“Me not want hot food,” said Jacob. “Want meat!”
“There’s meat in that,” said Max. He reached into the pram and picked up the infant. He gently rocked and cooed it.
Jenkins barked again.
“Stupid dog,” said Jacob.
“Less of that,” ordered Max. He approached the whistler and picked up a scrap of fajita. He tossed it high in the air.
Jenkins jumped up, caught it and devoured the morsel in a second.
“M-M-Max?” said Nat. She pulled on the wooden bars and climbed to her feet. “Max!”
He turned, his mouth full. It dropped open on seeing her and a shred of food fell out. Jenkins immediately trotted over and licked it up.
“Nat?” His eyes widened. “Nat? From Ginelli’s?”
“Get me out!” She thrashed against the bars.
Max handed the baby back to Herman and hurried over. He grabbed the padlock. “The key! Where’s the key?”
Jacob laughed.
“Stop fooling around, Jacob. Give me the key. What’s she doing in there?”
“She look for us, so that be our food. You bring food tonight. What tomorrow? Or other day?”
The whistling man turned and smiled before poking fajita into his mouth.
“Don’t you know who this is?” asked Max. He stepped away from the cell, his odd shoes splashing in the shallow water. “This is Nat!”
“Nat,” gasped Herman. “Our… girl?”
“Yes,” said Max and gazed at her through the bars of the cage. “Our girl.”
Nat screamed and shook the bars again. “Get me out of here!”
“Indeed,” said Herman. “Get her out of there. Get her out right now!”
The whistler left the spread of Mexican food and walked up to Jacob. He held out his hand.
Jacob looked at him and then to Max. With a grunt of complaint, he dug a hand into his jacket and pulled out a small, golden key. He slammed it into the whistler’s hand.
“Still think no good idea,” he said.
The whistler ran over to Max and eagerly gave him the key. After a few seconds of fumbling with the lock, he clicked it open. Max swung the door wide and stepped inside.
Nat dashed back into the corner.
“Wait,” said Max. He held his hands out and stared at her. “Don’t panic.”
Nat wiped the tears from her eyes. She looked behind Max at the creatures on the other side of the bars. Her gaze found the Mexican food just as a clawed hand swept down from above, grabbed what it could, and disappeared back in the darkness.
Bet it tastes better than rat, she thought, and nearly burst out laughing. Her adrenaline made her feel giddy with terror.
“Steady,” said Max, taking a step closer. “No need to panic. You’re among friends now.”
Friends? her mind shrieked. How can these freaks be friends?
She ducked left and as Max moved, Nat dashed to the right.
She thought she’d passed him until his arm whipped around her waist. He pulled her close. Nat roared and kicked against him.
“Don’t let her go,” said Herman. Nat looked over and noticed that he sat solemnly, no longer bouncing around with excitement. The candlelight reflected in his black eyes. His body glistened. “We can’t allow her to leave.”
The whistling man joined him at the side of the pram, his face creased with concern. He released a small, lingering note from between his lips.
Only Jacob, who thumped the arms of the armchair with balled fists, seemed to be enjoying it.
“Don’t fight me,” Max whispered. “Please. This is the only way.”
Her attention on the tunnel leading out of the chamber, Nat continued to kick out and thrash her arms. The movement caused her fresh cuts to burn. She gritted her teeth against the pain.
“Nat! Calm down! You think I’d hurt you after all you have done for me? For us?”
She stamped down on his foot.
With a cry, Max let go of her and moved back. “Nat?”
She stared at the pile of Mexican food on the chest of drawers. She knew where it had come from. Gordon had sneaked it out, just like he’d promised. She remembered the nights where either Gordon or herself had risked their jobs feeding Max and Jenkins. She recalled wondering why they always needed so much. Now she had her answer.
“Please don’t run,” said Max. “We won’t hurt you, but my brother is right. You can’t leave.”
She looked at Max. “Brother?”
He nodded and scratched his chin through his thick beard. “Yes, my brother. We’re all brothers here.”
Herman hung his head and studied the floor. He resembled a half-melted candle, shiny and red. In his arms, the baby muttered its own private language.
She met eyes with the whistling man, who blushed and turned away, only to sneak another quick peek at her a second later. Jacob stayed in the chair.
Nat looked up. She failed to see the twins, but their shadows darted between the pipes.
Brothers?
“Nat!”
The floor suddenly tilted and rushed up to meet her. She fell in a crumpled heap in the shallow water. Max’s face hovered over her.
“Nat? Are you okay?”
She managed to shake her head. His face warped, like the air over a fire. For a second, Nat believed he was about to transform into some hideous monster; shrugging off his normal appearance to show he belonged with the others. The candlelight dimmed, and Nat found herself in total darkness.
“Come on, that’s it. She’s coming round, Whistler. Don’t do anything to scare her.”
Nat lifted her head off the floor. It felt like it weighed a ton, and she flopped back down.
“Just relax, Nat. You’ve had a funny turn. Just lay there and take a minute.”
The voice sounded familiar. She tried to replay the events through her head. She knew she’d been looking for the old woman. She’d bumped into Max.
Max! That’s who the voice belongs to! I must have passed out on the street.
She tried to sit up again, but her body protested.
“Please, Nat. Just stay still.”
She heard a dripping noise in the background.
What the hell is that? Is it raining?
She listened to a short and low series of whistles.
“I know, but there’s little we can do.”
Whistles? The whistling man? Where am...?
Panic overcame her sluggish head. Opening her eyes, she sat bolt upright.
Max and Whistler jumped back.
“Steady there!” said Ma
x, again holding his arms up in surrender. “We aren’t going to hurt you.”
She was still inside their chamber, lying in the mouldy armchair. Besides Max, Whistler and Jenkins, who lay in a basket to the side, it appeared the others had gone.
“Wh- where are they?” she screamed.
Max hushed her. “You’re safe. Nothing bad can happen to you down here. Not after all you’ve done for us.”
Whistler nodded and grinned. He fingered a strand of multicoloured wool, which had worked loose from his jumper.
“Safe? How can I be safe? I want to go home…”
Max sighed and bowed his head. “You can’t. Not yet, anyway.”
His words sent her heart racing.
“Why not?” she asked. “If nothing bad can happen to me, why won’t you let me go?”
“Because you’d tell others about us, child,” said a voice from the corner. Herman leaned forwards, his gelatinous face emerging from the darkness. “And others would come.”
Nat gasped and tried to jump out of the chair. Max and Whistler held her firmly.
“Please, just try and relax,” soothed Max. “I know this isn’t easy. Hear us out.”
With her eyes locked on Herman, Nat forced her erratic breathing to slow. She leaned back in the chair.
“What’s going on? I can’t even…” She covered her face with her hands. “I just don’t understand.”
“Max, tend to her injuries,” said Herman. “They should be minor; the twins were only playing.” He sighed. “I apologise on their behalf, child.”
“Come on,” said Max. He gently pulled down the collar of her blouse and examined the shallow cut running down her shoulder. “It doesn’t look too bad.”
From underneath the chair, he pulled out a first aid kit. Nat glanced to meet his eyes.
“I know what you’re thinking.” He smiled. “People throw away all kinds of good stuff.”
He removed a small vial of clear liquid and sprayed her shoulder. Nat winced.
“Sorry. I thought it might sting a little.” He looked over his shoulder. “Herman, why don’t you enlighten our guest. It will take her mind off what I’m doing.”
Herman pushed the pram forwards a few feet, revealing more of his body.
“Very well,” he said and appeared to settle down further in the pram. “What do you want to know?”
Nat looked at Max.
“Go on,” he said. “Herman can be surprisingly civil at times.” He unwound a strip of bandage.
“He…he didn’t sound civil earlier,” she whispered.
“I was hungry!” said Herman. “And just because I don’t have any ears doesn’t mean I’m deaf either.” He reached down and picked something out of the pram. His lipless mouth sucked at it for a moment. “This is nice. What is it, Max? A fajita?”
“Yes,” said Max, concentrating on patching up her shoulder.
“So much better than people. Nil desperandum…” The fajita disappeared into his mouth, followed by a wet smacking sound. “So, girl,” he said after he swallowed. “What do you want to know first? We’ve already covered why we can’t allow you to leave yet.”
She gave Max another glance. He nodded.
“Okay,” she said. “Who are you?”
“I think you know that. I’m Herman, that is Whistler and you already know Max. Jacob and the twins are around here somewhere. We didn’t want them to get too excited when you awoke, so they’re searching for more wood. Oh…” He lifted up the baby, who had returned to a mass of coiled tentacles. “This little fella is Edgar, the youngest, obviously.”
“What are you?” Nat asked, now able to study Herman’s fleshy form with a little less stark terror.
“Why, we’re people,” he said. “I won’t take it as an insult. It’s understandable to wonder.”
“You can’t be,” she said. “You…you just can’t be…”
“Some of us are not the most attractive of beings,” Herman replied. “Out of the family, only Max, Whistler and Alcazar are normal enough to go outside. The rest of us stay down here.”
“Alcazar?”
Max glanced up. “He’s the second eldest. He doesn’t live down here.”
“Yes,” said Herman. “He’s the bird man. He needs to spread his wings a little!” He chuckled.
Nat sat in silence for a few moments, digesting the information.
“I don’t understand. How can a family of…” She chose her words carefully. “How can a family live this way? How did you get here?”
“Our…mother…” said Herman. His head dropped. “I suppose it’s all down to our mother.”
Nat noticed Max had stopped tending to her shoulder. He leaned back, his eyes closed.
Whistler emitted a low and sad tone.
“Does she live down here too?”
Herman shook his head.
“Then where is she?”
“Dead,” whispered Max. “Murdered.”
“Murdered?” said Nat. “Why would anyone…how could anyone…?”
“She walked above. Many people knew her,” said Herman. He remained looking at the floor.
“When did this happen?”
“Last night,” replied Max. He wiped his eyes.
“You…you seem to be bearing up,” she said, unsure what else to say.
“We have others to think about,” said Herman, his voice hushed. “We are survivors. If we allow our grief to better us, the child will suffer.” He stroked the slimy bundle in his arms. “I envy the little one. He’s too young to know of the pain we feel.”
“We need to plan for the future,” said Max. He stood and walked to the cell. “We can’t go on like this.”
“We need time to come to terms with the loss,” said Herman. “There will be time for planning later.”
Max roared and kicked the bars.
“No, brother! We need to plan now. I cannot feed all of you on my own. We need money, the money that mother brought in. Begging doesn’t get us enough!”
“In time…” said Herman.
“Did your mother work?” asked Nat. She aimed to calm the two down. The noise might bring Jacob or the twins back, and she wasn’t ready to deal with that yet.
“She…did,” said Herman. Thick tears flowed from his obsidian eyes to join his glistening skin. “She lost her dignity to keep us alive.”
“Her dignity?”
“She was a prostitute,” said Max. He attempted a smile. “I guess it explains why there’s so many of us, right?”
“I was the first,” said Herman. “When I was born, she hid me down here. She wasn’t ashamed or afraid, but mother knew I couldn’t live a normal life. Look at me. I know what you think when you see me.”
“I…I…”
He held up a gnarled hand.
“Don’t try and lie. Mother loved me, which is why she hid me in this maze of pipes and tunnels. She would leave me to go and earn money on the surface. Her family had disowned her when she fell pregnant. We only had each other.”
Nat swallowed. “What happened then?”
“Her line of work isn’t without its risks. Months later, she fell pregnant again.”
Nat thought back. “Alcazar?”
Herman nodded. “When he was born, he wasn’t right in…different ways. Not as deformed as me, but still not right. She now had two young children to deal with. Things carried on with her working the streets to buy us food, medicine, things to keep us warm.”
Max, his anger dissipated, walked back to Nat, his feet splashing in the low water. He picked up a strip of gauze and pressed it against her shoulder.
“That was it for a while,” Max said. “For years, in fact. But one by one, out we came. The older ones watched the younger children while mother was out. When I grew old enough, I too was expected to work the streets, but begging is all I know how to do.” He sighed. “The money was desperately needed. See, our mother began to bring in less and less…”
“Max,” Herman
snapped. “Dark waters! Be careful what you say.”
“She’s heard and seen enough,” said Max. “She has to know it all.”
He took a moment to wrap her shoulder in a tight bandage. Whistler leaned over to help hold the gauze in place. He gave Nat a grin. Nervous, she returned with a small smile.
“Time wasn’t kind to mother,” continued Max. “Maybe it was her own deformity, but she had a hunger. The older she got, the more it consumed her.”
“My God,” said Nat. “You mean she… she…?”
“Yes,” replied Max. “She liked to drink.”
Nat almost blew out with relief. The image of an elderly vampire lurking in the sewers to spawn freaks was replaced with that of an old lush, propping up a bar.
Hang on…
Herman nodded in agreement.
“Isn’t something we spoke of,” he said. “Being stuck down here makes you crazy with boredom. I read to keep the demons at bay, child. Old battered volumes tossed aside by the uneducated. They always find a way down here to me. From my studies, I believe she had a disease, a problem.”
“She grew angry when we tried to talk to her about it,” added Max.
Nat nodded and tried to take in all the information. Herman’s appearance still made her insides squirm, which didn’t help.
“Mother would allow her customers to buy this devil’s drink for her,” said Herman. “Although we worried for her, it had little effect on the family. It was when she began to spend her earnings that things became bleak.”
“We think it was part of what happened last night,” said Max. He applied surgical tape across the bandage to hold it in place. “She must have been drunk again. Mother would never allow herself to be taken by surprise. She was paranoid about us, you see.”
He put down the roll of tape and again wiped his shimmering eyes.
With a low note, which trembled at the end, Whistler reached over and patted him on the shoulder.
“What did happen last night?” asked Nat.
“We don’t know for sure,” said Herman. “Whistler found her in the woods. Someone had…” He swallowed. “Someone had beaten her and hit her head with a rock.”
Nat snatched in a breath. Her mind instantly found the image of Johan and the others standing over the old woman in the street. She quickly dismissed it. Sure, Simon had told her they were a nasty bunch, but she doubted they would actually kill someone. Besides, Whistler had been there. Surely if this was the same woman, he would have done more about it?
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