Crash III: There's No Place Like Home (16 page)

“Start talking, before I break your fucking neck.”

Both boys loomed over him when he looked up at them. Still holding his throat, he stole breaths in between his words. “If I’d have… been a rat, don’t… you think… they would have had me… in here… already? I came in after you. You just saw… I was tied up when I came in here. If I… was working for them… do you think they would have… tied me up?”

Before either boy could respond, Michael said, “This isn’t a good place.”

“No shit.” The older boy shook his head at him.
 

The younger boy, Josh, stepped forward. “Sorry about my brother. He’s really protective of me. All of our family is gone. We’ve been trying to find somewhere to go; somewhere safe. I don’t know why they’ve brought us here.”

To tell them the truth of the warehouse would be to reveal he’d been there before.
 

“Someone told me safety is an illusion,” Michael said. “I didn’t want to believe her, but the more I see of this new world, the more it seems true. Survival is the best we can hope for.”

Lola would have been proud of that statement, not that he gave a shit what Lola thought anymore.
Bitch!

The boys stared down at him for a moment, then the older boy opened his mouth to speak, but the sound of the bolt locks cut him off.
 

After the three loud cracks, a man Michael hadn’t seen before stepped into the room and grabbed Josh by the top of his arm. “You’re coming with me, boy.”

Forcing his body between them, the older boy shook his head. “He ain’t going anywhere without me.”

The thick-framed man ground his jaw and silence held for a few seconds before his stony expression lifted. He spoke with a level tone. “Just so you know, boy, we do what the fuck we like here. I’m going to let you come with him, but know that I’m letting you. It’s nothing to do with your little tantrum; it’s because I’m a super fucking nice guy. Got it?”

The older brother didn’t reply.
 

The guard and Michael stared at one another. Deep bags hung beneath the man’s eyes and his glare was stone cold. When he continued to lead Josh from the room, his older brother followed behind.

Just before closing the door, the guard looked at Michael again. “Someone will be over for you soon to take you to the warehouse.”

Cocking an eyebrow at him, the older boy said, “The warehouse doesn’t sound good.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Michael said. What else could he say?

Once the boys were taken out and the door bolted again, he added, “Although it’s a damn sight better than where you’re going.”

Escapee

If anything, the corridors were dirtier than before. In the few weeks that he’d been away, the funk of the place had increased, grime coating not only the floors but the walls too. The smell of sweat and farts hung thick in the air. Another shove in his back spurred Michael forward as he made his way down the dimly lit passageway.

They’d said he'd be heading to the warehouse.
Please let that be true.
The warehouse was grim, but he’d escaped it once before, so he could do it again—especially if no one recognized him.

Searing pain ran through Michael’s left bicep when one of the men grabbed him and steered him through several sharp twists and turns. Wincing, he tensed up but tried not to overreact. Annoying the guards never turned out well. If he could get to the warehouse, he could wait with the other boys and plan to get out. If he got under the guard’s skin, he’d stand out as a nuisance and they'd target him. Maybe they didn’t have any say over who Julius picked, but there seemed no point in risking it. Whatever happened, he had to avoid Julius.

Several empty beer cans clattered at Michael’s feet, their aluminum rattle amplified by the enclosed space. The guard pushed him on.

The closer they got to the warehouse, the worse the smell. The tang of sweat had as good as vanished. Now, it reeked of shit. Beneath the predominant stink were undertones of urine, alcohol, and vomit.

Just before he stepped on her, Michael noticed the naked woman on the floor. She lay across the narrow corridor, bent like a discarded rag doll.

When he passed over her, Michael glanced down. Her chin glistened with vomit, a needle hung from one of her skinny arms, and her eyes had rolled back in her head. Her mouth hung wide, and she twitched occasionally.
 

They stopped in front of the large, steel door to the warehouse. The guard pulled a jingling ring full of keys from his pocket and unlocked the padlock. There was just one bolt on this door; it was huge and took a lot of wiggling to get it free. After a few seconds of the dry scratching of metal on metal, there was a loud thunk and the guard pulled the door wide with a yawning creak.

Michael gasped when the guard grabbed him harder than before. When he spoke, his gravelly voice ran icicles down Michael’s spine. It was the man who usually wore the sack over his head but it was too dark to get a proper look at him. Whatever the devil looked like, Michael always imagined it would be the same as this man.
 

“Welcome to the warehouse,” he said and shoved Michael forward.

After several stumbling steps, Michael stopped and looked around the room. Nothing had changed from before. The poor light made it hard to tell how many, but between thirty and fifty filthy boys stared at him. Hopefully, they wouldn’t remember him.

After the slam and bolting of the warehouse door, the place fell deathly still. A heave lifted up in Michael’s throat as he stood there. The reek in the corridors had nothing on the funk in here. The cause of the stink was a pile of sludge festering in the corner of the room. The mound of human waste had fermented into a noxious bog.
 

The boys continued to stare at him, but Michael ignored them. If he kept his head down, the chance to escape would come like it had before.
 

When one of the boys spoke, Michael’s stomach—along with his plan—dropped.
 

“Look, it’s that posh kid. The one that escaped.”

Taking a long, deep breath, Michael closed his eyes. “Fuck!”

Rat

The silhouettes around Michael changed. Where they had all been watching him and getting ready to reel in the new fish, they now stood tense and silent. The circle around him closed slightly and his breathing grew short.

The boys, who had been sitting down, stood up. The ones already on their feet stepped forward again.

As they drew closer, their shadows swamped Michael. Most of the boys dwarfed him; some stood at least twice his size. Many of his peers were on their way to becoming young men. It wouldn’t be long before they no longer caught Julius’ fancy. Who knew what would happen to them then.

Voices came at him from every angle.

“Thought you were better than us, did you?”

Although he shook his head, Michael didn’t reply. They wouldn’t want to hear it. Pleading would just make him look weaker.
 

“Thought you deserved to get away from here while we stayed?”

“Well, at least he’s back.”

A deep laugh boomed behind Michael, and he jumped forward. “Looks like you’re fucked now though, don’t it, sunshine? Not only do you have the guards against you but you have us on your back too.”

“Do you think they’ve even twigged it’s him?”

Michael pulled at his collar, but it didn’t ease the feeling of his heart pounding in his throat. When he stepped back, he bumped into a restraining hand.

“You ain’t going nowhere, sweetheart.”

Another voice called out on his right. “What do you think they’ll do when they find out?”

Someone tugged Michael’s sleeve.
 

“What the fuck is he wearing? Is he a fucking pansy or something?”

A sharp sting exploded across the back of Michael’s skull, and white light flashed in his vision. A ringing noise rang through his head. Michael raised his hands for protection. Seconds later, he took another blow to his right cheek, his world tilting as he rocked on the balls of his feet.
 

When someone shoved him, Michael fell to the floor and the boys swarmed over him, a tattoo of blows clattering into his skinny body.
 

Curling into a ball and closing his eyes, Michael cried and took the beating.

***

When the boys backed away, Michael unfurled but remained on the floor. Then he heard the hinges of the warehouse door creak.

Two men walked in. Neither of them had a sack over their head.

With his entire body throbbing, Michael remained on the floor and watched the door. The concrete was cold against his cheek, but he couldn’t move.
 

As the men entered the warehouse, Michael looked past them. They’d left the door open, and the dark shadows were still enough to hide by. They clearly hadn’t learned from him escaping.
 

Michael looked up at the men.
 

One of them opened his mouth to speak but stopped when a boy said, “He escaped from here a week or two ago.”

The taller of the two men halted, looked down at Michael, and then at the boy who had ratted him out. “What the fuck are you talking about, boy?”

“A couple of weeks ago…”
 

Michael looked over at the boy to see him pointing down at him.
 

“He managed to escape from the warehouse a couple of weeks ago. It looks like you’ve caught him again.”

The guards shared a look before the tall man returned his attention to the rat. “And what the fuck do you expect us to do about it? Look at the state of him. We can’t take him to Julius looking like that. He’s the one that damages the boys, not anyone else. He likes them clean when they come to him. Fresh like a ripe peach.”
 

Although Michael couldn’t see the man’s face in the poor light, he saw just how thick his finger was when he jabbed it at the boy.
 

“Did you do this to him?”

The confidence left the boy as he shook his head and stepped back. “No. It was nothing to do with me.”

“Oh, so you don’t want any part of it now; is that what you’re saying? A second ago, you were ready to sell him up the river.” Turning to his friend, the man said, “I think he’s lying to us, Jason. What do you reckon?”

Jason stepped toward the boy and sniffed the air. “Yeah, I smell bullshit.”

The laugh of the taller man boomed around the open space. “Well, if for no other reason than for being a rat, you’re coming to see Julius today, sunshine.”

Poor boy. It didn’t matter that he’d been trying to rat Michael out; no one deserved a trip to see Julius. Anxiety tied Michael’s stomach in knots as he watched the boy back away from the guards. His voice turned shrill, and it pulled the knots tighter. “No. Not again. No.”

As the boy got closer to the others, they parted. Alone and backed into a corner, he pulled his arms into his chest, his voice getting loud enough to echo through the high-ceilinged room. “No, please. Not again. No.”

When the men marched forward as a pair, Michael saw a silhouette of a boy slip out of the open door. It was still possible!

A deep boom sounded out as the larger of the two men drove a heavy blow into the boy’s stomach.
 

The boy dropped to the floor and wheezed.

The guard loomed over him, a dark smile lifting his face. “We can punch you in the stomach as much as we like. As long as Julius can’t see it, we can do what the fuck we want to you. Remember that.”

The two men took a foot each and dragged the boy toward the warehouse’s exit… the open exit… the exit that would be Michael’s freedom again.
 

When they were close to the door, the tall man called out, “Let this be a lesson to you all. Nobody likes a rat.”

The door crashed shut and the bolt snapped across. Silence returned to the room and Michael curled into a tight ball, hugging his knees to his chest as he shivered on the cold and damp concrete.

Vultures

Time held very little meaning in the warehouse. The monotony of sitting in the cold, open space with poor light twenty-four hours a day both depressed and disorientated Michael. A good few hours had passed; Michael knew that at least. And the others had left him alone for that time.

Not enough time had passed to ease his injuries though. Bruises wrapped his body like a hot blanket as he sat in the corner of the room and hugged his knees to his chest. To be both cold because of his environment and hot from the beating left Michael in a strange limbo that added to his exhausted state.
 

The older boy had been in with Julius for a long time. A shiver whipped through Michael’s body.
Fuck that!

Although nothing had happened since the older boy had been taken away, chaos sat beneath the room’s lethargic atmosphere. Everyone continued to watch Michael; they just hadn’t done anything about it… yet.

The snapping bolt made Michael jump and he pushed farther back into the wall.

The huge hinge groaned as it always did. It was like a slow laugh, mocking the boys inside the room before the men came in and exerted their will upon them. Michael held his breath as he waited.

But nothing happened.

Maybe the guards had set this up as a test. See if anyone runs and punish them if they do.

The door remained open and still nothing happened. Leaning forward did little to help Michael see any better, and squinting didn’t make the dark any more penetrable.

Something large flew through the door and hit the ground with a thud.
 

It was a body.
 

Thud!

Two bodies.

Floppy and lifeless, they lay on the floor, their limbs splayed out in directions that an active body couldn’t replicate.
 

A man’s voice called in after them. It was the man with the sack over his head. The memory of his strong grip returned to Michael’s bicep. “Let this be a reminder of what happens to those of you that step out of line. Keep your necks wound in and life will be much more viable for you.”