Gina took his arm and tried to pull him to his feet. He fumbled around and finally managed to stand on rubbery legs.
“I can’t believe you. You cheated on me, you jerk!” Gina was crying as she led him from the room.
“No, I didn’t,” Pete said. “I was just messing around. You know how it is. Didn’t mean nothing. She's a toy, that's what Jase says. He says I should play with her, too. Gina! I got to do this or Jase’ll get pissed at me. You know how he is.”
The door slammed behind them as they left the room.
Brook buried her face in the filthy blanket and screamed her frustration.
Why is this happening? How can they do this to me? How can Gina let them?
As the adrenaline overload from her latest attack drained away, her aching body was overcome with exhaustion. She fell into a despairing sleep, drifting down on waves of confusion and self-pity.
Later, to her surprise, Brook woke feeling hungry. She had unknowingly entered basic survival mode. Her body was looking out for itself at this point. It demanded food and water with painful urgency, disregarding any polite notions about whether or not it was appropriate to have an appetite under the circumstances. She had managed to steal drinks from the filthy sink in the restroom, but she hadn’t eaten for two days. She crawled to one of the partial bags of chips, delicately peeled apart the opening, and peered inside. Nothing was crawling around and she gingerly took a chip and slipped it into her mouth. It was stale but edible. Brook crammed handfuls of chips into her mouth, crumbs dribbling unnoticed onto her bruised and swollen breasts. She moved to another bag and finished its contents too.
Now thirst joined her list of needs. She tried the door but found it locked. Approaching one of the cups that littered the room she peeked in. Scum floated on top of the old soda pop and she gagged at the idea of drinking any. Still, her thirst was strong. She tipped the cup and tried to scoop off the nasty coating before drinking. She downed the drink, thinking
what is the worst that can happen?
Finally, she curled up in the fetal position and waited. An old disco song kept repeating itself over and over in her mind until she could almost see the words written behind her eyelids.
I will survive. I will survive.
Chapter 10
Golden sunlight spilled through the small loft window, mingling with the rays from the skylight and ground floor windows to bathe the cabin’s interior in a diffuse morning glow. Lance stood at the stove and added the potatoes he had grated for hash browns to the diced onions already sizzling in the skillet. Another pan stood ready for his eggs. Percolating coffee filled the room with a brisk and savory aroma.
After a hearty breakfast, he would ride into town, drop off Old Reliable, and fetch his bike. When he got back, he planned to get started setting up the new solar electric fence he had purchased in Denver the previous week. As always, he would take extra care to avoid detection by what he thought of as the “Wilderness Nazis”, county agents whose job entailed monitoring the actions of homesteaders via satellite images. He was too far off-road to worry about drive-bys, but he had overheard the locals grouse about the various agencies that enforced the state’s strict water laws and building codes. The last thing Lance wanted, or needed, was attention from someone with authority. Or anyone in general, for that matter; although, if one wanted to get technical, he had permission to use the place.
Use,
he reminded himself,
not live in year round.
In the wee hours of the morning, sometime after the rain had passed, he had heard a blood-curdling scream off in the distance. Lance always worried about coyotes, but the chilling wail he had heard in the night was almost certainly a mountain lion in estrus, a sound that made the hair on his neck stand up. Gilbert and Belinda liked their freedom, but it was about to be curtailed. He didn’t want to risk losing his goats to the big cat. In fact, the lion was going to have to be killed to ensure their safety.
Lance had been up for several hours, letting the goats and chickens out, filling their water troughs, and checking the land around the cabin. He counted himself lucky the cabin was so close to a mountain stream, making installation of his hand pumps easier. After the gully-washer last night, the waterway was swollen and the fishing would be poor. But Lance enjoyed its erratic clamoring as it rushed along.
As he wandered around, ‘the ladies’ followed him hoping for a handful of hen scratch. “Now, you go forage for yourselves,” he had admonished them. Lance had no trouble talking to his animals, preferring their companionship over human company any day. “You know the routine; I’ll feed you tonight. That’s what keeps you ladies coming back. It’s not my charming personality, that’s for sure.” He had chuckled as they continued in their hopeful pursuit. Eventually, they gave up and scattered into the trees, bobbing their heads and uttering their creaky-door sounds. The ducks forged their own path and headed for the stream, as usual. Lance planned to butcher them at first snowfall rather than feed them through winter. He enjoyed a roast duck dinner several times a year.
Later, as Lance strolled down to Old Reliable, he took note of the chill in the air, a chill that told him winter was crouching right around the corner.
Chapter 11
Brook was used by Jase and Benny several times during the morning and afternoon of her third day in captivity. Pete, thankfully, only watched now and didn’t participate. She also noticed he didn't encourage Jase and Benny anymore. Brook figured he was simply deflated because he had gotten a talking down from Gina, and Brook was thankful for even that small relief. Defeated, she lay without fighting, knowing she couldn’t stop them, and also knowing they would hurt her more if she resisted. She was afraid of being beaten, and she was terrified Jase would make good on his threats and pull her teeth out or cut off her feet. Between the rapes, she sobbed quietly. She tried again to think why this should be happening to her. How had she ended up here? Had she simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or was it something more sinister? She had asked herself these questions repeatedly since she had been taken, and still she had no answer. Though God seemed to have forsaken her, she still prayed.
As Jase abused her, Brook lay motionless, giving the man nothing to enjoy; although, he didn’t seem to care whether she moved or not. He didn’t even bother to taunt her anymore.
Once Jase had left the room, Brook let her thoughts wander. She recalled the morning Clark had asked her to pick up the book. Her mind wouldn’t let go of the fact he had
sent
her to a dangerous area. Maybe Clark didn’t know it was dangerous? But that seemed unlikely. Clark was quite familiar with the city, so…could he have deliberately put her in harm’s way? Brook could think of no conceivable reason Clark would want her hurt. She told herself the whole thing had to be a coincidence. Someone just saw her car, recognized its value, and took advantage of the opportunity to steal it. But then, why did they say the car was ‘right where it was supposed to be’? How did Benny come by the key he had used? And why was there a semi waiting if it was a spur of the moment theft, merely a crime of chance? She drifted into a confused sleep only to be awakened by the return of Jase, and his seeming insatiability. Brook wondered, vaguely, how he had gotten by before she’d entered the picture. Maybe he only enjoyed sex taken by force. Or maybe the more he had, the more he wanted.
When Jase was done, Pete pulled him aside.
“I feel a little weird about this lady,” Pete said quietly as they stood just outside the bedroom door. His manner was casual, but his uncertainty was obvious.
“What do you mean?” Jase scowled.
“Well, she looks pretty bad.” Pete stared at the floor.
“What’s it matter? She’s gonna die anyway,” Jase said, watching him carefully. Pete chewed on a thumbnail. "Come on, Pete, spit it out. What the hell's up your ass?"
“We’ve never killed anyone before.” Pete looked up, his eyes anguished. “I mean, it’s one thing having sex with her, but killing her is something else. I don’t know if I can do it. Can you?”
“We ain't got a choice. She can identify us. You don’t want to spend the rest of your life in prison, do you?”
“No.” Pete quailed. "I’d never make it in prison, man.” He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, his face had an almost hopeful expression. “Hey! Know what? Benny wants to keep her.”
“Keep her?” Jase laughed. “Yeah, well, Benny’s a packrat. He never gets rid of anything. Have you seen his fucking room?”
“What?” Pete looked confused.
“It’s a joke, Pete.” Jase shook his head.
“Oh, heh, heh.” Pete gave a half-hearted chuckle and then turned thoughtful. “So, are you gonna let him keep her? Then we won't have to kill her.”
“Fuck, no, he’s not keeping her! She’s not some puppy that followed him home. She’s a potential witness against us. We
have
to get rid of her, and Benny knows it. He’s just talking shit. Benny’s such a fucking freak, it just kills me. You understand we
have
to get rid of her, don’t you?”
“I guess. But, I just think maybe we shouldn’t be so rough on her. I mean, look at her. She’s awful banged up. You know, I was raised not to hit no women.” Pete shifted his feet.
Jase snorted. “Raised my ass! Your old man ran off and left you, and your mom was a fucking alcoholic. Talk about a family of losers.”
Pete’s face was stricken. “My grandma wasn’t a loser.”
“No,” Jase relented. “No, she wasn’t. Your grandma was cool.” He slapped Pete on the back. “I ain’t got no room to talk anyway. My family ain’t exactly the Huxtables. Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay.” Pete swallowed hard.
“You know what your problem is?” Jase’s expression turned lazy and arrogant. “You’re just too soft. You got to remember something, dude. That woman ain’t like us. She’s a different breed. Just look at her. All suntan and diamonds, fancy clothes and dinner parties, ‘shopping on the boulevard’ and ‘lunching at the club’. She makes me sick. I bet she’s never worked a day in her fucking life. She ain’t never been hungry or scrounged around in the gutter to survive. She's nothing like you and me, dude.”
Jase's voice had taken on the edge of bitterness. “Then look at us. We’re finally doing good, ain’t we?”
Pete nodded.
“Damn right we are! But I remember the days when we didn’t have two nickels to rub together. You were just a snot-nosed kid whose old lady was so drunk she didn’t know where you were most of the time. Didn’t care. But I looked out for you. You and me, we came up through the ranks together. Now, that takes character. But this bitch? She’s hardly even human. She’s just an empty vessel, a trinket for some lame-dick rich bastard. She probably fucks the pool boy, and the gardener, and the tennis pro and anyone else she can get her hands on. But now she’s
our
little toy. She don’t even have feelings like us regular people do. She’s like a robot. Just a high maintenance whore. Know what I’m saying to you? Do you get it?”
“I guess so,” Pete murmured. “But she sure cries a lot.”
“Stop being such a pussy,” Jase snapped. “You know how that pisses me off. I swear; Gina’s really twisted you up, dude. She’s messed with your head. Look at it this way; we didn’t set out to take the woman on purpose. It just happened. We’re not fucking kidnappers. This is just her fate. She was a gift dropped right into our fucking laps, like finding a lucky penny or some shit. I’m taking advantage of it, and you should, too.”
Jase scratched his armpit and stared at Brook cowering on the mattress. His indolent air returned. His eyes were almost drowsy as he contemplated their victim.
“She kinda grows on you, don’t she?” he remarked. “Just like when you get a new video game and you think it’s probably not going to be that much fun, but before you know it, you can’t stop playing it. You try to quit, but something makes you keep going back to it. Oh, sure, you eventually lose interest but its sure fun while it lasts."
“Yeah,” Pete answered, obviously relieved. Brook was sickened by Jase's remarks and Pete's stupidity.
“But, I’m not bored with her yet,” Jase said as he unzipped his pants. “Are you?”
“No, I’m not bored.” Pete’s voice betrayed his excitement. He watched as Jase mounted Brook once more and then turned away. “Gina?” he called. “Where are you, baby? I have a
big
surprise for you.”
Jase panted in Brook's ear as he rode her. It seemed to take longer each time. Satisfied for the moment, he finally left Brook alone. A long silence followed as the household rested.
Late that afternoon, the door to the bedroom burst open and Jase stalked in followed by an insolent Gina. “I don’t care what the shit you think, Gina,” Jase declared. “You’ll clean the bitch up, get her dressed, and have her ready for us to get rid of when we get back from town.”
Brook’s blood turned to ice in her veins. So this was it. The end was upon her.
Gina’s face held a look of pure hatred. “Why don’t you do it yourself? Or have Benny do it. I wanted to go into town with Pete. I’m sick of being cramped up here listening to you dicks fuck this bitch all day and night.”
“We could be fucking you,” Jase said menacingly. “Besides, you can’t go with us anyway. We got a new job and we’re going to town to grab a couple of beers and work out the plans, and you know we can’t let you hear the details of the jobs. We’ll be back by dark. In the meantime, wash her good. Give her a couple of those douche things. You know, clean out all traces of our cum from her twat so no DNA can be found. Oh, and you better squirt a couple up her ass too. Then put her into some of your clothes and wait for us. Can you do that, Gina?” Jase asked this last question in a tone that said do it or else.
“Whatever,” Gina muttered, and then acquiesced. “Yes. I can do it.”
Jase pushed past Gina and left the room.
“
Ass-wipe! Does he think I’m so dirty I have a bunch of douches lying around?” Gina muttered as she went to the closet. A sound stopped her.
Softly, Brook began to sing.
The sun is slowly sinking
The day is almost gone
Her voice was becoming louder. Gina turned to stare at Brook with a look of disbelief. “What the fuck? What the hell are you doing?” But, Brook ignored her.
Still darkness falls around us
And we must journey on
The darkest hour is just before dawn
The narrow way leads home
Brook’s voice had grown strong and was surprisingly clear, considering all the screaming she had done. Her words pealed through the house.
Lay down your soul at Jesus' feet
The darkest hour is just before dawn
She sang the song that was played at all the funerals within her family. The song that said goodbye to loved ones. She didn’t believe her body would ever be found and she wanted to go to her Maker with the blessed words.
“Shut the fuck up, you’re creeping me out.” Gina backed towards the closet.
Like a shepherd out on the mountain
A-watching the sheep down below
Jase burst through the door. “What the fuck’s going on? What the hell is that? Shut your fucking mouth, you bitch.”
Brook looked heavenward and continued to sing, taking no notice of Jase.
He's coming back to claim us
Will you be ready to go
Jase backhanded her, cutting off the words. “I said, shut the fuck up.”
Brook placed a hand to her bleeding mouth and smiled a soft sad smile. What was there to lose? They were going to kill her anyway. Boldly, she began the chorus.
The darkest hour is just before dawn
The narrow way leads home
Lay down your soul
At Jesus’ feet
The darkest hour is just before dawn
The darkest hour is just before dawn
Jase stared in disbelief. “Fuck this shit, I’m outta here. Just have her ready when we get back, Gina. You’ve got your gun. If she tries anything, blow her fucking head off.”
Jase and Gina left the room as Brook finished her song. Soon, Brook heard the front door slam. She sat quietly, awaiting the end as silence fell over the house. She was determined to meet her death with dignity.
Time passed. Brook found herself listening intently. With a flicker of hope she began to throw off her lethargy. Maybe she
could
get away. It was just her against Gina now. Of course, Gina had a gun. Still, maybe Gina was asleep. Maybe all was not lost.
But, even as she thought this she heard footfalls in the hall. The door opened and Gina entered. She was in a real snit. “Get up, whore,” she commanded, her eyes shining with hatred. “Now!” she yelled when Brook failed to move. “You just couldn’t keep your hands off my boyfriend, could you?” Gina paced back and forth. “Just had to fuck every last dude here like some kind of nympho. I’m sick of you. You deserve everything you’re gonna get. I don’t feel sorry for you at all.” She nudged Brook with her foot a few times, and then kicked her in the side for good measure.
Brook groaned and climbed unsteadily to her feet. She wouldn’t be able to escape after all. Despair stole what little energy she had.
“That’s right, get your sorry ass up, you pathetic piece of shit.”
Gina pulled a joint from her shirt pocket and lit it, inhaling deeply several times, blowing the smoke in Brook’s face. Her angry tone mellowed. “Want a hit?” She offered Brook a drag, but Brook shook her head. “Suit yourself.” Gina stared dispassionately at Brook who stood with shoulders slumped and arms crossed in front of her body in an attempt to cover her nakedness.
“You got to take a shower so the guys can take you out and kill you,” Gina explained in a mild voice, as if she were saying the guys were going to take Brook to a movie. “But first, I have to get you some clothes.” She took a long toke from the joint, pinched the fire from the end, and stuck the roach back in her pocket. Turning her back on Brook, she opened the closet door and began poking around on the shelves.
Brook saw red. Just like that, her life was going to end. Just like that, they were going to clean her up and kill her. Inside, her soul cried out at the injustice of it all; her entire being rose up in a tidal wave of outrage. She lowered her head and charged Gina, taking the girl totally by surprise, bashing her into the rear of the closet, and tumbling her to the floor. Brook slammed the door closed, grabbed the wooden chair, and jammed it under the doorknob.
Almost immediately, Gina began pounding on the door and rattling the knob. The small space muffled her furious yells. Turning, Brook ran. She entered the living room, and slid to a stop. There on an end table sat her purse. Brook grabbed it, flung open the front door, and bolted outside. The cold air assaulted her senses but she didn’t slow, didn't even notice the pine needles and twigs that sliced at the soles of her bare feet. She ran to the first car she saw and slid into the driver’s seat. No keys. Sobbing, Brook tumbled out, falling to her knees. She regained her footing, slipped on wet leaves but remained upright, rushed to the only other car in the drive, and peered through the window. There, shining like a lighthouse beacon guiding lost sailors safely to shore was a key chain with the ignition key nestled in the slot. Jumping into the car, she twisted the key. The motor roared to life and Brook slammed the car into gear just as a shot rang out, issuing from within the house. Brook stomped on the gas pedal. As the car careened down the drive, she glanced in the rearview mirror. Gina burst out the front door, screaming for her to stop. She saw Gina raise her arm, and heard gunshots. Brook accelerated as Gina fired several times, showering the car with bark as the slugs missed the vehicle and slammed into nearby trees. The car roared down a driveway that was nothing but two bumpy ruts tunneling through close-growing trees and brush. Brook finally reached the end of the long drive, turned onto the road, and sped away from the house of torture. She realized she had been screaming, “yes, yes, yes” repeatedly and stopped herself. But she didn’t feel safe yet. There was another car and Gina might be following her already. Brook kept checking the road behind her, but no one appeared.