MEAT : The Definitive Uncut Edition

by Michael Bray

  Whilst Arsenio pleaded his case, two men came out of one of the office doors and casually approached the pair. Garrett saw them coming and stepped forward to go and help when he felt light fingers on his arm.

  “Don’t do it, son,” Mrs. Harwell said, her round face ashen and eyes dark with fear as she watched the scene unfold. “I think it’s too late for anyone to help him now.”

  Garrett nodded, and feeling like some kind of awful voyeur, turned back to watch.

  The two men who had come from the office were now standing at either side of Arsenio, boxing him in. All four men were engaged in what looked to be an intense conversation which wasn’t quite loud enough to be heard from the back of the store. Garrett took the opportunity to assess the men who had come out of the office. The taller of the two exhibited all the hallmarks of the store manager. He was wafer thin. Some might say undernourished His hair was black and slicked back against his head, and even observed from a distance, he carried the unmistakable air of arrogant authority. He nodded patiently as Arsenio spoke, gesticulating and again pointing to his receipt. The manager’s colleague was shorter, but broad across the chest. He simply stood with his arms folded and watched everything unfold with a glare which was two parts intimidating, one part amused. Arsenio shook his head, tossed the magazine down and tried to shove his way past Lurch towards the exit. The stocky man grabbed him roughly by the arm, twisting it behind his back. The store manager took Arsenio’s other arm and whispered something in his ear before the duo led him away from the exit. A few of the people around Garrett murmured under their breath as they watched the man frog march Arsenio away from the freedom of the outside world towards a plain white door labeled ‘ employees only’.

  “That’s where they took the other guy,” Mark whispered to nobody in particular.

  It was car crash mentality. Some of those gathered looked away as Arsenio was led from the door, perhaps assuming there was nothing more to see. Others couldn’t help but stare at the events as they unfolded. Garrett was in that second group. He had to see, had to know how it all played out. The manager plucked out a large bunch of keys from his belt and opened the door. He held it open just enough for his short companion to shove Arsenio over the threshold. Arsenio squirmed and tried to free himself, knocking the door with his shoulder and –just for a second- revealing what lay beyond the threshold. A terror even worse than the sight of the severed feet in the fridge raged through Garrett as he saw what lurked behind that innocuous white door. Instead of the office which Garrett would have expected to see, perhaps a table and chairs where Arsenio would be held until the police arrived to question him as to what happened, the room had far more sinister décor. The floor and walls were green tiles not unlike an operating theatre of some kind, and during his brief glimpse inside the room, Garrett saw the edge of what appeared to be a stainless steel autopsy bench. Arsenio saw what awaited him and began to struggle and twist away from his captors. Nauseous and unable to believe what was unfolding in front of his eyes, Garrett watched with sick fascination as the men ushered Arsenio over the threshold and closed the door, leaving the fate of their prisoner a mystery. Garrett’s eye caught that of the taller man as he closed the door. The man smiled, and when he did, Garrett almost unleashed the scream that had been swimming around in his guts since he first saw the severed foot in the fridge.

  SALLY & ELLIE

  “What’s happening? I can’t see,” Ellie Connell said, frowning at her mother who was ignoring her.

  Ellie tried to look around the tangle of legs and torsos of the people gathered around the store, then gave up.

  “Mom, answer me. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing, nothing at all,” Sally replied, only half listening to her eight-year-old daughter.

  “This is a crock of s-h-i-t,” Ellie said, spelling out the word she knew she shouldn’t say and folding her arms for emphasis.

  “Eleanor Connell! You know better than that.”

  “It’s not swearing if you spell it out,” she replied with a cocksure grin.

  Sally would have, under any other circumstances, punished her daughter; however, the current situation was far more pressing, if not frightening.

  “You still can’t swear, Ellie, even if you spell it out.”

  “That’s not fair. It doesn’t count.”

  “I say it does.”

  “Can we go home now?”

  Sally looked at her daughter and somehow managed to hide her terror.

  “Soon. We need to pick up a few more things first.”

  “Then why are we just standing around with all these people?”

  Sally was struggling to formulate an answer, or at least a believable lie when Mark walked towards them, getting her off the hook, for the time being at least.

  “How are we doing over here?” he said, managing to smile for Ellie’s sake.

  “Good, thanks,” Ellie said, smiling back at Mark. He felt something in his chest give a little at the thought of a little girl being caught up in whatever was going on. A quick glance to Sally said she felt the same.

  “Glad to hear it,” he said, somehow keeping the game in progress. “How about you?” he said to Sally.

  “Okay, I suppose. I…” She cleared her throat and looked lost for a moment. Mark was struck with how similar mother and daughter were. Same light orange hair, same blue eyes and freckles. Even the same slightly miss shaped nose.

  “What happens now?” she said, catching Mark off guard.

  “Well, I’m not sure.”

  “You asked us to come back here with you, and it’s obvious by now something’s happening. I assumed when you gathered us together you had some kind of plan.”

  “Sorry, we’re working on it.”

  “Yeah, I saw you with that other guy,” she replied, looking past him to Garrett. “Between you and me, he doesn’t look so good.”

  Mark glanced over his shoulder and saw that Garrett was indeed walking around with a dreamy and vacant expression on his face which did little to boost his confidence.

  “He’s a good guy. I think he’s just struggling with what’s happening here.”

  “And what is happening here?” she asked, eyes searching him for a definitive answer.

  Mark glanced at Leena, then discreetly nodded towards Ellie.

  “Hey,” Leena said, just about forcing a smile. “Why don’t we go see if we can find a magazine or something to read?”

  “Can I?” Ellie asked her mother, still painfully unaware of the dire situation they were in.

  “Of course, as long as you stay in the magazine aisle and with…”

  “Leena.”

  “…Leena and do as she says. Got it?”

  “Yeah, I got it.”

  “Okay, go on then.”

  Ellie took Leena’s outstretched hand and the two made for the magazine aisle. As soon as she was out of sight, the two dropped the pretense all was well, and let the true horror they felt come to the surface.

  “I need to get my daughter out of here,” she said as she watched her disappear into the milling crowd.

  “We all need to get out of here.”

  “I hope you have something in mind. There are…things on the shelves here that I really can’t think about. I don’t want my little girl to see them. There were brains…” She trailed off and produced a tissue, dabbing the corners of her eyes.

  “Everything will be okay. We just need to stick together.”

  “I know you don’t know me, and although this might seem unfair, I need to ask you something.”

  “Go ahead,” Mark said.

  “No matter what happens to me, I want you to promise to get my little girl out of here.”

  “I’ll try my best.”

  “No, that’s not good enough. I need you to promise me.”

  He could see how close she was to losing it, and noted how the same could be said for any one of them. He felt suddenly responsible for her, to ensure her and her daughter
were safe.

  “You have my word, I’ll do everything I can to make sure both you and your daughter get out of here.”

  She wanted more, then perhaps realizing she was asking too much already, nodded. “Okay, then I trust you. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  Mark shook his head. “Not right now. Stick close to your daughter. Keep out of sight. As soon as we have a plan, I’ll come and let you know.”

  “She’s all I have, you know.”

  Mark nodded, wishing he had something else to tell her.

  “I better go find out what’s going on,” he said, then went to look for Garrett.

  Making Plans

  Shock was a funny thing, Garrett thought as he wandered aimlessly amid the racks of leisure wear. It was one of those terms that always seemed so throwaway in the movies.

  ‘Oh my god, he’s in shock,’ some slick doctor would say about his patient after they had experienced some trauma during act one, which the TV star would duly fix after a few false leads and unexpected twists and turns just before the show ended. However, in reality— the reality that was the windowless building where they were now trapped— the shock was a very real, palpable thing. He walked amid the racks of clothes and felt somehow detached from his body. Everything was happening too fast, and none of it made any sense. For the first time, he was seriously considering the possibility he might never see Stacey again. He knew it was fruitless, yet he tried to call her again anyway, without success. He paused in front of a mirror, handily positioned to allow prospective purchasers to try on one of the cheap shirts or hats before they bought them. He used it now to assess himself.

  Hair, sandy and full, skin pallid, but that at least was understandable under the circumstances. He looked at his reflection with blue eyes which were filled with a haunting disbelief. His stubble—grown initially for fashion— now simply made him look old and tired. He had a lean, thin body, and dressed in his scruffy jeans and white t-shirt. He looked perfectly… average. He thought he looked like a man in his late thirties with a drug problem, when, in fact, he was only twenty-six and— apart from a few cheeky joints when he was a student— drug free. For the third time, he passed the suit trousers, looking but not really seeing, and thinking about everything and nothing at the same time. Mark approached, his agitation hard to miss.

  “Hey, man, how you holding up?” he asked.

  “Not too good if I’m honest. How about everyone else?”

  “Well, the little show with the guy who tried to leave seemed to have convinced most people there’s something going on here.”

  “Bernard?” Garrett asked hopefully, unable to shake the sense of unease that overcame him whenever he thought about him. Mark shook his head.

  “He’s still having none of it. In fact, he’s out there telling people it’s all bullshit, trying to rally them together.”

  “Son of a bitch. We can’t risk losing anyone else.”

  Garrett cast a wary eye towards Bernard, who was deep in conversation with a heavyset man with a huge, overhanging beer gut.

  “Are you sure you are okay?”

  Garrett opened his mouth with every intention of telling Mark all about what he saw as the manager ushered Arsenio away, but then remembered he was just a kid and was already struggling to cope. Instead, he coughed quietly into his hand.

  “I’m okay I guess, I’m just thinking about my wife. I should have been home by now. She’ll be worried.”

  “I know what you mean. I keep thinking the same, that we would have been fine if we hadn’t stopped here. Hell, it was only a snap decision because I wanted a couple of beers for later… look at us now.”

  “How long have you two been a couple?”

  “A couple of years. We’ve known each other since we were seven. We just kind of went from friends to more as we got older.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Seventeen.”

  Garrett grimaced. It wasn’t fair someone of such a young age should be dealing with a situation like this.

  Mark looked Garrett in the eye and spoke in a near whisper.

  “She’s actually in a bad way. She’s not coping at all. I gave her some sedatives to calm her down, but I doubt under the circumstances they will help her. I’m…”

  He trailed off, staring at the floor.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m afraid she’s losing it. I’m scared she’s becoming one of them.”

  He nodded towards the zombie-like people who were aimlessly walking around the supermarket, eyes vacant and glassy, skin pale. Those people who, when faced with the horror unfolding around them, had just ‘switched off’ and were in some deep place within themselves where they wouldn’t have to deal with what was happening.

  “I think a lot of us will get like that if we don’t manage to get out of here,” Garrett replied as he scratched at his stubble.

  “Any ideas?”

  Garrett hesitated before he answered, then realized there was no easy way to say it.

  “We might have to kill them if we want to get out of here.”

  He expected Mark to rebuff the idea, or to call him crazy and talk him out of it. Instead, he simply nodded.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” Garrett repeated.

  “If you think that’s what’s best.”

  “You don’t seem so sure.”

  “It’s a pretty big deal, man. Think about what we’re talking about here.”

  “It’s not as if it’s a snap decision,” Garrett said, making sure nobody could overhear them. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and as best I can see, it’s the only way of getting out of here.”

  “There must be some other way, something less extreme.”

  “If you have any ideas, I’m happy to hear them.”

  “No, I know we might have to do this. It’s just a big thing. I mean, resorting to killing people…That’s a road we can’t turn away from once we go down it.”

  “You seem reluctant and I can understand that. Trust me, all that matters to me is getting out of here. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it happen.”

  “Me too. I mean, I just want to get Leena and me out of here alive, plus there’s a kid here, I promised the mother I would help them.”

  “You shouldn’t do that. We can’t promise anything.”

  “I didn’t intend to. It’s just…she was desperate and I didn’t know what to say.”

  “I get it. I wasn’t trying to give you shit over it. We just need to be careful about giving people false hope.”

  “False hope? Don’t you think we can get out of here alive?”

  Garrett hesitated, which was enough.

  “You don’t do you?” Mark said.

  “It’s not that, it’s just when I think about what we’re dealing with. When I think about the things we’ve seen, it makes it hard to be positive.”

  “Well, we better get positive,” Mark said. “Especially if you are thinking about going to the extremes in order to get out of here.”

  “I know, and I’m trying to. I get the impression you’re not on board with this.”

  “It’s not that,” Mark said quietly. “As much as I can stand here and tell you I agree, I just don’t know if I’ll be able to go through with it when— if— the time comes.”

  “Neither do I,” agreed Garrett. “Same goes for everyone else here I expect. But the fact is, we might have to if we want to survive.”

  “Whatever happens, we need more than just the two of us to get onboard and help us put some kind of plan together,” Mark said, glancing around at the rest of the people who were now broken into smaller groups as they chatted in hushed tones.

  “We'll also need some weapons, something to take the fight to them with.”

  Garrett nodded. “Okay, you take a walk and see what you can find that we might be able to use.”

  “I don’t think there will be much.”

  “Me either, but just do what you can.
”

  “What about you?”

  “You mentioned a butcher when you gave me the rundown of the staff. I want to find out where he is.” Garrett felt gooseflesh prickle on his arms as the words left his mouth.

  “Is that wise, man?”

  “Probably not, but I don’t like not knowing where he is in all this.”

  “What about him?” Mark asked, nodding towards Bernard, who had now added more people to his group.

  “The less he knows the better, for now at least. Let’s do this and be discreet about it.”

  “We need to let the others know.”

  “I agree, just not until we know more ourselves.”

  “There’s one thing I don’t understand.”

  “What’s that?” Garrett asked.

  “Why us, why is it down to us?”

  Mark was scared, and it was plain to see. Garrett felt an overwhelming urge to lie, if only to put the boy’s mind at ease, but no suitable deception came to mind and so the truth— as ugly as it was— would have to do.

  “We were the ones who gathered everyone together. I think even without realizing, we volunteered ourselves to lead this... group or whatever the hell it is, right from the start. Like it or not, we’ve put our necks on the chopping block.”

  “Hey, Garrett, can I ask you something?”

  Mark was unable to make eye contact and stared instead at the floor. Garrett didn’t want to answer questions. Not out of cruelty or selfishness but purely because he wasn’t sure he would have the answers Mark was looking for.

  “Sure, go ahead.”

  “What do you think is happening here? I mean all this.” Mark gestured around him, his face tight and pained.