"Well Uncle Gordon lied to you, little one."
"I’m glad it was a lie. I was sad that you were dead. I didn’t want you to be like my mum and dad."
I bet she didn’t. What other slippery lies had that arsehole spun to keep this innocent little girl quiet amongst so much hell?
"You want to go home to Carla?"
Isabelle nodded. I thought about Tom in the other room; the rest of the derisory surroundings of this place. Then I thought of the comforts that Austin was enjoying.
"Do you see anyone else except Uncle Gordon, Isabelle?"
She clammed up, her little eyes welling with tears. I didn’t want to push, but it was important. I didn’t want to kill a man in a brutal fashion if he only deserved a quick and reasonably painless death. I held a hand out to her, and her own little fist snuck out from under the duvet. She followed this with her whole body, and enveloped me in a totally unexpected hug. Rich came into the room then, Tom apparently fully furnished with water and free to move. He looked at me in horror.
"Is that the little girl you were looking for?"
I nodded soberly. Isabelle turned her face to look up at me. Tears had snaked down her red cheeks. Her eyes were big, full of trust and love. And, I prayed fervently, innocence. "You were looking for me?"
I nodded slowly, exaggerating the gesture. "Yup. All over the place. Came all the way here, didn’t we?"
"You did. You really did. Thank you." She hugged me tightly and with fierce strength. Perhaps desperation. I felt tears stinging my eyes. I was not ashamed. Rich looked absolutely crestfallen at what he was seeing. He started to say something two or three times before he found a way that didn’t taste bad in the air.
"Have they done anything to her?"
I stroked Isabelle’s hair gently. Her head had returned to my lap, but she lifted her head again and gazed thoughtfully at Rich. "I didn’t like Uncle Oz. He said mean things."
"Was he ever mean to you?"
I felt her little body tense up again, but not for very long. "He said he would. Uncle Gordon wouldn’t let him." I sagged a little in relief, but regretted my reactive thought that Gordon perhaps wasn’t so culpable after all. Isabelle hadn’t finished. "Uncle Gordon was going to be mean first. He said that was important. Why was that important?"
How the hell do you explain that? "He’s just showing Uncle Oz that he is the meaner one. It doesn’t matter now. We’re not going to let them be mean to you, are we, Rich?"
Rich was tense, both his fists clenched and the muscles along his jaw line taut. "No. We are not."
"We’re going to be popping next door now sweetheart. It’s nicer there. It’s warmer. It doesn’t smell so bad either. Are you going to come with us?"
"Are there any of the bad men outside? The ones like my mummy and daddy?"
I thought of the horde that had passed by. That must have been petrifying for her. Especially if they were leaving her alone here at night with nothing but the keening of a tortured man for company.
"There isn’t anyone bad at the moment. Don’t worry, we’re looking after you."
"Are you going to look after the crying man, too?"
The crying man? Tom. She must have meant Tom. She must have picked up on my hesitation though and ploughed on with an explanation. "When Uncle Gordon was done speaking to me he’d go and do some shouting and some stamping. I’d be scared but I wouldn’t shout out because I was told the shouting makes the ugly bad people come. Then the crying man would shout and that would make Uncle Gordon even more angry and they would both shout until it went quiet. When Uncle Gordon goes, the man cries for a long time."
My brow creased. "We’re going to look after him, too."
Isabelle nodded, satisfied with this answer. "Is there food in the nicer place? I’m very hungry."
"We’ll find all the food you need. Are we ready to go, Rich?"
I turned to him and he nodded. I collected Isabelle up in her duvet, wanting to keep her as shielded from this horrible place as I could. I told her to put her head against my shoulder. It was still dark and we’d be following Rich next door.
With the light of one torch, I didn’t want to trip and do her any damage. Our walk next door though, in the silence of the dead countryside, was uneventful. I placed Isabelle on one of the settees in the quaint living room. I rooted through the cupboards and came up with some crisps— possibly stale—a couple of bars of chocolate, and a can of pop. None of these were good for her, but something was better than nothing and hopefully the rare treat of sweets would improve her mood. I also wanted her to rest. As soon as she was asleep and we knew she was safe, Austin was going to be subject to some very thorough questions.
Her little eyes lit up at the sight of the goodies I brought her. As she munched through them she asked if I’d brought the crying man with us. I asked her if she wouldn’t mind if I went to check and she nodded quietly. She was almost bringing me to tears again, the quiet way she was dealing with the perversion around her. Of course with her age, she possibly wouldn’t have known any different, what their intentions had been towards her. I knew I was avoiding speaking to Austin straight away because, with my current mood, I’d be breaking his head against the sink basin to find my answers. Rich’s demeanour showed he felt the same way.
I trotted up the stairs and held my ear to the door of the bathroom. I could hear a muffled sobbing. Still alive and starting to suffer. Good. If anyone I had ever known deserved every single thing they got, it was Austin.
I found Rich and Tom in the larger of the bedrooms. Rich was sitting on the end of the bed, cradling his head in his hands. Tom was curled up on the bed, and a soft sound told me he was already asleep. Rich looked up as I walked in. The windows had been uncovered, and soft pools of light from the moon gave everything a blurred quality.
"I can’t believe what we’ve just seen in there."
I sat cross-legged on the floor opposite him, my back up against a chest of drawers.
"I’m having some issues processing it myself. What were they creating here?"
"Ever see that film with that torture club?"
I racked my brain. I knew the one he meant and swallowed the bile and sick that made its way up my throat. "I don’t want to think about that."
"We haven’t got a choice. Gordon’s done this before, I’m sure. Tom’s going to live, but he’s going to be in a lot of pain. He’s lost blood, but not enough to be life threatening. And he’s got a lot of injuries, but they’re made to cause pain, not to kill. Maim, maybe. But definitely not kill. They wanted to make him last."
I thought back to the tortured corpse I had found in Worthing. I had blamed a number of people for that after meeting a colourful collection of personalities with our struggles on the pier. I don’t think I had ever blamed Austin. Now, curled on the bed and in a deep sleep after who knew how long in chains, was living evidence of his handiwork. Austin was the torturer. Gordon was possibly just an apprentice, as far as that was concerned. Isabelle’s words had already convicted him of a different crime.
"It wasn’t Gordon," I croaked. Rich looked up and I explained the careful way the corpse in Worthing had been carved apart. He looked appalled, his face contorting in the moonlight until he looked like an apparition from a horror film himself. He got up and launched himself towards the bathroom. "No," I hissed, "not with Isabelle awake. We’re not like them. We don’t need her thinking that."
"Just for one night, Warren, I’m going to be exactly like these sick fucks. We need information and Austin is the only one here to give us any. It’s not just these two. It can’t be. They had Rick guarding the door—some other guy the day before. They’re prepping things here. Do the guards know what’s inside? What do they think happens? They must have heard the noises, if they’ve been torturing folk in there. We don’t even know that Tom’s the first. They might have killed here before and just thrown out the bodies."
I had no answers to those questions, though thankfully Rich und
erstood my need to keep Isabelle unaware of what we needed to do.
"We’ll keep Austin in the bathroom. Easier to clean that way if we need to. We’ve got the night. We know someone will be back in the morning in the car. It might even be Gordon, so we have to be prepared for a fight."
Rich nodded once. "Let’s go and make sure your little girl gets to sleep."
We headed back to the living room. "Will she be safe downstairs?"
"As safe as she’ll be anywhere else. There’s not enough going on in here to attract attention to the house. The horde is well past. We can relock the doors and we won’t be using the torches again. The moon is giving us enough light to move around. If he starts yelling, we make sure he knows that’s a bad thing."
On the settee, curled up in the duvet and surrounded by sweet wrappers, Isabelle snored gently. She hugged parts of the sofa to her, but her exhausted little face looked like it was gaining some peace in rest. I couldn’t move her. Unspoken agreement passed between us. We made sure the front and back doors were locked, and the windows down here were covered up. We shut the door leading to the living room from the hallway to muffle as much sound as possible.
* * *
Rich quietly moved the chair back from the bathroom door and was the first to enter.
Austin had barely moved. There was no fight in the gelatinous pervert. He was curled up in the bathtub still, shoulders shaking from crying and eyes tightly closed. I shut the door behind me, despite feeling slightly claustrophobic, cooped up in this little space between the solid bulk of Rich and the mass of Austin.
The former security guard reached into the tub and manhandled Austin into a sitting position. Then he actually got into the tub next to him. I put my hand over my mouth to stifle a chortle. Rich had his legs crossed and his arms resting on his knees. He smiled amiably.
"We got them both out of that shithole. Thought you should know."
Austin’s eyes bulged. He started shouting against the wrap and Rich held up a finger to his own mouth. "Shh. They’re both sleeping. We don’t want to wake them up, do we? You definitely don’t want to wake them up. Things are going to be painful enough for you as it is. If we need to check on Tom and Isabelle because of you, there will be serious consequences. Do you understand me?"
There was a pause before Austin nodded.
My knees were starting to ache, so I put down the toilet seat and sat on that to complete our comedic sketch.
Rich continued, his voice calm and level. I was starting to feel nervous listening to him, so I had no idea how Austin felt at that point. "I’m going to take off that gag. I’m sure you’d like to start breathing properly again. That flannel probably stinks. When I do, you’re going to stay quiet. After I’m sure you’re not going to do anything stupid, I’m going to start asking you questions. You’re going to answer the questions. If I don’t like the answers you give, if I think you’re lying, if I think you’re trying to put the blame on someone else, then I’m going to hurt you. I’m going to be expressive about it as well; being holed up in that community for so long’s got me a bit frustrated, you know? Do you understand everything I have said?"
Austin nodded again, so Rich reached up and undid the belt. As soon as there was enough slack, Austin spat out the filthy flannel, hacking and coughing as he took in gulps of fresh air. The flannel dropped in his lap. Rich looked down at it, then back up to Austin. He continued in his psychotically calm voice. "You’re being a bit noisy, Austin, a bit over-dramatic. Calm down."
Austin started biting down his coughs, so his entire chest rattled with each push of air. I almost got up to get him some water. Rich sensed this and put up a finger. I was fascinated. Rich had been so placid and pleasant; now I was a silent passenger to his masterful handling of a man who was single-handedly ruining my post-apocalyptic life. Waiting calmly until the hacking subsided, Rich asked his first question so manner-of-factly that it sent a shiver down my spine.
"Did you and Gordon plan on raping that little girl?"
Austin nodded reluctantly, and Rich cracked one of his knuckles. "I thought so. Glad you didn’t lie. We already knew that. You understand, there’s going to be some consequences for that. Have you kept anyone else at that house except for her and Tom?"
"No," Austin croaked, tears dribbling down his red cheeks.
"What was your plan? What was it all for?"
"Entertainment. It had to be away from the community. I don’t need to explain why."
"No you don’t. One thing I am curious about, though. The explosion that Warren was caught up in. Was that staged? Because everyone thought Tom died in that."
Austin closed his eyes and nodded slowly. "I don’t know the details. I do know that Charles was in on the whole thing. He wanted Tom."
"In the same way Gordon wanted the girl?"
Austin started to break down. "Yes."
"Has Charles visited here?"
"Yes."
"More than once?"
"He’s…" Austin’s sobs started to break up his sentences. His words were interjected with sniffs and coughs as he fought to keep control of himself. "He’s been here three times. I guard the houses at night. We’re starting to bring guards during the day. Just to make sure no one accidentally finds out what’s going on."
"Do the guards know what goes on in here?"
"They haven’t got a clue."
I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved that Rick wasn’t a part of the debauchery, or angered that he hadn’t learned enough by now to ask questions of the situations he found himself in.
"So this is a private playground for the upper crust of the community?"
Austin nodded, his body heaving as he fought down his sobs. He looked pitiful. Broken. He was expecting to be killed. I wasn’t a hundred percent certain that Rich wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of that.
"Does Travis know about this?"
"He knows. He hasn’t done anything to help. But he didn’t do anything to stop us either."
"Why did Gordon have you here?"
"I already told you. I guard it at night."
"No, why you. Of everyone else, why are you here?"
"Gordon knew me. He knew my history. He knew that I… I enjoyed masochism. When I first came to the community with Carla, I was put on trial and some of my crimes came out. Gordon guessed there was more to it than that. He was right. That’s when we started planning the Household. Then when he arrived," I was given a derisory nod at that point "and told everyone the full truth about me, it was the perfect excuse to start the Household. I was exiled, but I was always going to be safe. Warren let us start this place, and you drove me here. Thanks. Couldn’t have done it without you."
I got up to give him a slap only for Rich to wave me back down. "We’re not done with him yet. I’m not quite angry enough."
"Not angry enough? The exile was planned. They were going to rape a child. They’ve probably already done the same to Tom, as well as all the torture!"
"You’ve missed a spot. I was kept in the dark. That’s fair enough. I didn’t ask enough questions. You did ask questions, and now you’re stuck out here with me. Your sister is still in there. This chump had eyes for your sister before and I can’t see that as changing. So, chubby, who else was going to end up in your little palace of light and joy? Was Carla going to be one of them?"
"I… she was going to be my reward. For here."
My hands tightened into fists. I concentrated on my white knuckles and tried to ignore the angry adrenalin working its way through my body.
"Things haven’t quite gone to plan though, have they?"
"No. And guess who’s in the middle ruining it all, yet again?"
Rich had his fist out before I could react. He took Austin in a chokehold and pulled him across the thin divide of the bathtub.
"Wrong answer. Last question. Try to be less cheeky this time; otherwise I’m just going to let Warren do whatever he’s got planned in his head. I’m guessing he’s a
little bit pissed right now. Though I have to be honest. No matter what you say, things aren’t going to end very well for you. Now. As soon as Warren got here, he’s had a little trouble with the management so to speak. How much of that is down to you?"
Austin sagged. though I saw his mean little eyes light up with defiance. "Some. He’d still be in there and in a nice house if he didn’t ask so many fucking questions. They’re trying to make a nice place there, and they can’t do that if someone keeps asking why things aren’t different."
"When you say ‘nice place,’" I asked, "do you mean empire? Because I was sure as hell getting a lot more questions raised than answers given."
"What’s wrong with that? Gordon and Travis were running things smoothly. Rich here didn’t seem to mind what he’d put his lot in with. Why does it matter so much to you?"
"Because as it turns out, we’re missing out on possible military help? What else have they not told us? Then there’s the minor point of rape, torture, and paedophilia. So there’s no government anymore; that doesn’t mean we throw out civilisation and go back to the Dark Ages. People can’t do what they want because they find themselves at the top of the food chain."
"You think we’re at the top of the food chain? You’ve seen what those things can do. In a last man standing, humanity is on its way out. We’re just making the best of what we can with what few days we have left."
"Did you not hear what I said? We have military help. That means we haven’t been abandoned. We are fighting back. If we’re fighting back, they think we can win. I’m not letting men like you and Gordon ruin that for everyone without even giving them a choice in the matter."
"Look, this is emotional and world-building for me, it really is. But deep down I don’t give a fuck what you think about morals. I was enjoying it here. I was enjoying it back at the pier. If I’m doomed to spend the rest of this thing having you cock-block every bit of action I can get then I’d rather you just hurry the fuck up and kill me. Because that’s what you’re going to do, isn’t it?"
Great Bitten (Book 2): Survival Page 25