There was another growl, then dirt being kicked up near the walls. Heavy breathing circled the hut and was followed by clawing against the wood. Whatever was outside was looking for a way in.
More dirt and more digging and then the boy heard the man gasp. There was the deafening splinter of wood and laughter as the man stood frozen.
He jumped for the ladder and started to climb. The boy could see his head poke through the second floor opening before there was laughter again and the man screamed. The wife took hold of the man but he was ripped away from her and pulled down to the first floor.
The screams and crunching of bones made the boy start to cry. Then, the noise stopped. The wife had stopped screaming and sat in shock, trembling. She let go of the boy and kicked the ladder down before scooting to a wall away from the opening. The boy began to go over to her, and froze when he looked down through the opening.
The dark black of blood stained the ground and the walls. The man’s body was not there, but bits of flesh mixed with the dirt and appeared like large insects on the dry earth. There was a growl and the boy jumped backward. As he sat in the woman’s arms, they began to scream for help, pounding against the walls, tears running down their cheeks.
The wood began to creak. Both of them listened breathlessly. The hut shook again and bent, the woman screaming as she realized the hut was collapsing. It shook only a few more seconds before a thundering sound filled the boy’s ears and he fell with the collapsing building and crashed into the ground.
The woman’s screams stopped and the boy couldn’t see what was happening with blood dripping into his eyes. His head was cut and he felt the sharp pressure of a break in his leg. Then he felt something hot against the skin on his arms; it was breath.
CHAPTER
25
The next day Eric woke up late in the afternoon. He’d scored some mediocre drugs; a few dime bags of H and an eighth pound of weed. He’d stayed up late in the morning smoking, watching the city lights from the balcony and the slow rise of the sun over distant hills.
By the time he showered and smoked a joint, it was already nightfall. The moon was half-covered with dark clouds and hovered in the sky like a glowing orb of pale light.
He left the hotel with a stack of money, his drug-hunger satiated for the moment but already tingling his belly for the next wave of warmth and comfort.
The business district was closing up and Eric walked through a few back alleys into the nearest red-light district, though they weren’t given a name here. They were just a few square blocks of bars and strip clubs and cheap hotels. Wind chimes were sounding from a nearby house as he walked down the sidewalk, running into more and more single men. This was like a playground for them, but much more sinister. Because the usual pleasure for single men was sex, and sex was always mingled with power, most of the girls in this district had plenty of mended bones and fresh bruises. Usually it would cost the tourist only a few extra American dollars to impose whatever fantasy he wanted on the girl. Their pimps—which were the owners of the bars or hotels the girls worked out of—knew they could find another girl to replace her for next to nothing.
Eric walked past a bar that stood the girls outside on the sidewalk in their underwear, if they were lucky a silk or polyester robe to cover them. Men would walk by and choose a girl, taking them to a nearby hotel that was owned by her pimps or just the back of a dark alley if the owners didn’t have a place.
He walked into a bar he hadn’t been to before, a small brick building with a neon sign in front. It was just one large room and the bar was against the wall, wooden stools set up in front of it. In the center of the large space was a circular stage with two girls dancing nude. There weren’t that many people inside, mostly laborers having a few drinks before going home or the odd businessman looking for sex. Eric sat at the bar and ordered a shot of Jagermeister, downing it quickly and ordering another. The music was some loud reggae song and it annoyed him as much as the red lighting and copious mirrors.
“You American?” a heavily accented male voice said.
Eric looked to see a small balding Thai sit next to him. He had his jacket half-way open and rings on every finger. “No,” Eric said.
The man laughed. “Yeah, you American. You shy. You no shy, I have good yum yum for you. Five dollar.”
“I don’t want any yum yum.”
“This good yum yum; five dollar.” The man grabbed Eric’s hand. “You come back, I show you.”
Eric finished another shot and stood. He wasn’t horny, but he didn’t really care where he was and it might as well be a backroom filled with women. The man walked him past the stage, Eric glancing up at the girls, their faces empty and sullen. The man opened a door and led him through it, waiting for him to walk in and then shutting it. There were couches on one side of the room next to another door, a small table in between them. The other side of the room sloped down into a pit filled with water about two feet deep. At first Eric thought the pit was filled with mud, but as he looked more closely he could make out the thin tails and rough skin of small crocodiles. They lay motionless in the water, one on top the other in the small space. The water was filthy and stunk of excrement.
The man yelled something toward the other door and it opened. A young girl stepped out with a baby in her arms. It was crying and naked and the girl brought it over to the man.
“Five dollars,” he said, pointing to the pit. “Five dollars and you watch.”
Eric could feel the acidity of vomit rise in his throat and his stomach felt like it was filled with lead. He looked at the young girl and saw bruises on her neck and her bare legs. Though young, she already had a look in her eyes that he’d seen in the older women. A look of hopelessness, and acceptance of the hopelessness. For a reason he couldn’t put into words, it was the scariest thing he’d ever seen.
“Five dollars,” the man said again.
“No,” Eric said, stepping back toward the door. He was high and half-drunk and the room was lit with red light, giving it a monstrous appearance. It made him shiver and he began searching with his hand behind him for the doorknob, though he didn’t take his eyes off the young girl.
“Yes,” the man said emphatically. “Five dollars and you watch.” He said something in Thai to the young girl and she walked to the edge of pit and held the baby over.
“No,” Eric said, choking up.
“You give, five dollars!” the man said angrily.
The baby’s crying pierced Eric. It was in long high-pitched shrieks and hurt his ears, though the man and the young girl didn’t seem to notice. The man walked closely to him and reached for Eric’s pocket. Eric pushed him off but was too confused to fight. The man grabbed at the cash in his pocket and managed to pull out a hundred and twenty-five dollars. He looked back to the girl and said something. The girl released the baby.
“No!” Eric shouted. He jumped into the pit, landing on one of the crocodiles, sending them both into a panicked frenzy. He grabbed the baby up in his arms as one of the animals clamped down on his boot. He kicked it as hard as he could and then stomped its head. The crocodile hissed and spun the other way, giving Eric long enough to climb out of the pit.
The man was yelling something. Eric grabbed him by his throat, adrenaline returning his strength. The man was small and wiry, his neck greasy with sweat. Eric pressed his fingertips into the windpipe until he heard a crunch. There was gurgled breathing and the man collapsed, choking and wheezing for breath. The woman screamed for security.
Eric opened the door and ran out of the bar as someone shouted in Thai after him. Eric felt the damp air of the street and ran down the sidewalk, the baby in his arms, unsure which direction he was running. The lights and girls and music from the bars melded into jagged fragments of vision, like they were being reflected in broken pieces of a mirror.
He stopped when his lungs burned and his legs felt like they were going to give out. Bending over some bushes, he vomited. Only a thick bil
e and jagermeister spewing out since he hadn’t eaten today.
When he was through he walked to a nearby hospital half a mile away. The lighting was strong florescence and it made his eyes ache. The baby was wet and screaming. He handed it over to a nurse and stuffed all the cash he had on him into the nurse’s palm.
“For the baby, understand.”
The nurse nodded quietly. She glanced to the police officer sitting on a chair by the entrance but didn’t say anything.
Eric walked out and sat on the curb, and cried.
CHAPTER
26
The hotel room smelled of rotten garbage and sweat. Eric had told the cleaning women he didn’t like them in his room when he wasn’t there and they’d eventually just stopped coming. A stack of what was left of his cash was out on the coffee table and empty bottles of various liquors and beers covered the floor. The temperature had risen in the past few months to the balmy heat of summer and the balcony door was always open. Eric lay in bed wearing boxer shorts, a thin sheen of sweat covering his body. It was difficult to get cool; the hotel kept the air-conditioning to a minimum.
He’d gotten word on Ray and Dak from a local American boy who knew Ray. Ray survived the gunshot wound and was extradited to the States for a murder charge he had pending there. He was facing the death penalty, as was Dak here. Police were searching for a third, unidentified assailant.
Eric rose out of bed and went out onto the balcony. It was morning and the sky was full of white clouds mixed with smog and airplanes carrying the next fresh batch of tourists into the city. There was a new casino downtown and he could see the massive building from here, but he’d never been there. The last time he left the room was a month ago and even that was only because the front desk required him to put the room in his name and to see identification.
Lily lay nude in the bed, asleep. Last night she’d had the smell of orange blossoms from her bodywash and a new manicure, her nails red and glossy. Eric thought she was beautiful when he’d first met her, but over the months she’d grown haggard. Her skin was marked with blemishes and acne. Her once soft, wet lips were now always dry and cracked. Eric never asked her about it, he didn’t really care that much anymore. Besides, he had no right to say anything. He’d lost more than forty pounds of hard earned muscle and was left with a sagging, pale body. His eyes had sunken in with dark circles and his hair was long and had the appearance of being greasy to the touch.
Thoughts of suicide were always in his head. They came mostly at night when he’d be trying to go to sleep and they drove him to anger. It was as if he didn’t have control over them, like his thoughts were telling him what to do. His will was wearing away. The truth was, he was in complete apathy. The hotel room was a place to stay, but he wouldn’t have cared if he’d been thrown out on the street. He didn’t care if Lily was there or not. He didn’t care whether he was alive or not.
He went inside and sat on the couch, taking up a used needle and spoon to start cooking, when he heard a knock on the door. He ignored it but they knocked again, this time louder. Slowly, he rose and answered it.
A woman stood in the doorway. She was slender and black, sapphire eyes incased in a thin face. Her hair was straight and came to her shoulders, only accentuating the beauty of her face.
A man stood behind her with shining green eyes and a slight smile on his lips. He was dressed in canvas shorts and a vest.
“What do you want?” Eric mumbled.
“You don’t remember me, boy?” the man said. “Thomas Keets, we met at your father’s funeral.”
Eric nodded, unsure if he fully remembered him. “What do you want?”
Thomas took a step forward and the woman stepped aside. Thomas looked Eric up and down, a hidden contempt and sympathy showing in his eyes. “May we come in?”
Eric looked from one to the other and then left the door open and walked back to the couch. He didn’t even hesitate before starting to cook again. Thomas sat down across from him in a high-backed chair and the woman walked to the balcony and stood outside.
“That’s Jalani,” Thomas said, taking a pipe out of his breast pocket and putting it between his lips though he didn’t light it. “She helps me on my hunts and tours. I found her when she was young in Africa. Her parents were killed by a rival tribe and she escaped and lived on the plains.”
“How’d you find me?”
“Your mother. She said you haven’t called her in over two months and she’s worried.”
“I told her not to tell anyone where I am.”
“As I said, she’s worried.”
“Why’d she call you?”
Thomas crossed his legs and looked out the sliding glass doors at the sky. With the pipe in between his lips and his eyes turned upward, Eric thought he looked like a sitting Buddha in contemplation.
“I knew your mother before your father. That’s how I and your father met actually, though, that’s a story for another time.”
Eric filled the hypodermic and stuck it in between his toes on his right foot. The drug warmed him, but, something he’d realized only recently, brought him no pleasure. It didn’t make him happy in any way but he couldn’t go more than a handful of hours without it. “What do you want?”
Thomas took the pipe out of his mouth and held it in his hand. “The truth of it is boy that I owe your father a life, and I intend to pay him back by saving yours.”
Eric chuckled softly as he fell back on the couch, warm and content. “I don’t need saving.”
“Oh? Pardon me, but I beg to differ. I’ve seen men where you are and they don’t last very long.” They watched each other and Thomas rose to his feet and walked toward the balcony, looking over the city through the open sliding glass door. He leaned against the wall with one hand and put the pipe back into his mouth. “I came to this city once before you were even born. It’s far different now; crueler. Perhaps that’s just what happens when large masses of people live together.” He turned toward Eric. “We are a malicious species boy, and I don’t normally care for us outside of those close to me, but I repay my debts.”
Jalani walked in and Eric got a good look at her. Everything about her permeated sensuality, from the way she crossed her feet in a relaxed stance, to the smell of jasmine emanating from her wrists and neck. She stared at Eric with a detached curiosity. Then, abruptly, she walked out of the hotel room. Thomas sat back down and filled his pipe with tobacco from a small cherry wood carrying case he kept in his pocket. He lit it with a silver lighter and the sweet smell of tobacco filled the air.
Eric was nodding off, his head bobbing painfully slow up and down in an effort to stay awake. He didn’t notice when Jalani walked back in carrying a length of chain and cuffs and threw Lily out of the room.
Thomas and Jalani picked Eric up and he only nominally protested.
They lay him down on the bed and shackled his right wrist and then ran the chain around the bed, locking the two ends together with a padlock. Thomas tore the phone line from the wall, tearing apart the wires and rendering them useless.
They walked out of the room together, neither looking back.
CHAPTER
27
Eric slept for six hours and woke in the afternoon. The sound of the river was in the distance, fleets of car engines beyond that. He thought he’d dreamed of Thomas coming to his room and smiled at the dream. When he went to itch his arms, he heard the rattle of chains.
He was shackled tightly with a thick metal cuff halfway up his wrist. He followed the chain with his eyes and saw that it was wrapped around the bed. Leaning down and looking underneath, he saw that it ran around the bed frame, locking him to the bed.
Eric scrambled and tried tearing at the cuff and then pulling on the chain. He reached down and tried to pull the chain off the bed-frame and then started trying to open the padlock. He stood and was almost growling as he violently yanked the chain over and over. Finally he sat down on the floor, his arms exhausted and heavy. He
had enough length to reach the bathroom and halfway into the living room, but no more. The phone was disconnected.
He walked into the living room. His money was still on the coffee table, untouched, but his drugs were gone. Panic gripped him and he began pulling on the chain again, trying to break apart the bed. He was too weak for anything more than making a loud clanking sound, and gave up.
He lay on the floor until nightfall. He was starting to feel sick. It was making him jittery and he felt sharp stabs in his stomach. As he lay flat on his back staring out at the glittering lights past the balcony, the door opened and Thomas walked in. He held a small brown bag and a large jug of water and placed them next to Eric.
“There’s some turkey and plums in the bag.”
“Fuck you!” Eric screamed.
Thomas seemed not to notice and only walked into the kitchen, checking to see if anything useful was in the fridge. Finding only beer, he took the bottles out and poured the golden liquid down the sink, throwing the empty ones in the garbage and walking out the door.
Eric was on the floor all night, unable to sleep. There were waves of pain that came and went like electric shocks. Drops of sweat covered his body and formed a wet ring around him on the carpet. He tried to pull on the chains again and when he failed, he simply curled on the floor and cried.
The next few days Eric was in full withdrawal. He was vomiting constantly and had diarrhea. Stomach pains toppled him over whenever he’d try to stand and he found himself screaming for help, but no help came. His tongue bled from the multiple times his shivering caused him to bite it and he’d go between extremes of freezing cold and scalding hot.
The days slowly melted into each other; images and sounds and sensations. Thomas or Jalani would bring food and water and juice in the morning and at night, but otherwise they kept away. On several occasions Eric had screamed himself hoarse but no one from the hotel came.
The Extinct Page 11