The Dead Parade (48 page)

Authors: James Roy Daley

“
What’s that supposed to mean? Who the fuck are you?”

“
That’s two more,” he says.

I make to get up, about to grip the bars of the cage.

“
I wouldn’t, if I were you,” the olive-skinned man tells me.

“
Well you’re not m––” Too late I see the wire curled around the bars, and no sooner have I touched the metal than I feel the electric shock. It ripples through my body, not strong enough to put me out again, but enough to blister my hands. “Shit!”

Is that what happened to the person in the cage in front?
I wonder.
Did someone just leave the current on––running along the bottom as well––long enough to set fire to the poor sod inside?

“
I did warn you,” says the man, his dark brown, almost black, eyes fixed on me.

As I rub at my palms I take in the room: rectangular, the walls smooth. There’s a red tinge to the lights, giving the space the look of a photographic dark room. Nothing to give away a location. Just a single door.

“
Where am I?”

“
Another question,” comes the reply from my neighbor.

“
What do you expect, Kavi?” says the woman. “He’s bound to be a little disorientated at first. We all were.”

“
And do we know any more now than we did then?” asks the man she named. Nobody rushes to answer.

Instead the woman introduces herself to me. “I’m Jane,” she says, touching her chest, then thumbs over at the other man. “That’s Phil.”

“
Philip Hall,” he announces proudly, like it means something.

I shrug. “Chris. Chris Warwick.”

“
Welcome to the party,” says Phil snidely.

“
So nobody knows anything about this? About why I saw someone just get fried right in front of me.”

“
You
saw
that?” Jane sounds shocked.

I nod. “Managed to drag my blindfold down a bit. I saw enough.”

Phil gives a half laugh. “Resourceful little devil, isn’t he? That’ll get you a one way ticket to hell around here, kid.”

“
This
is
Hell,” says Jane with complete conviction.

“
How long have you been here?” I ask, though it’s Phil who butts in.

“
Longer than you,” he says.

“
Then you must have seen who’s holding us.” I round on him. “Who did that?”

Nobody says a thing.

“
Oh, come on! This is ridiculous.” I stand, almost putting my hands on the bars again. “You can’t just kidnap a bunch of people and then––”

“
Why not? Happens all the time abroad,” Phil comments. “Places where
his
lot come from.” He nods over at Kavi.

The dark skinned man smiles. “With one breath you betray your ignorance,” is his only remark.

“
We’re
all
ignorant in this place,” Phil replies.

“
But how did you wind up here?” It’s another question, and I expect Kavi to say something about that, but he doesn’t. This time he asks me one of his own.

“
How did
you
?”

It suddenly strikes me I don’t know. I had thought I’d been out on the town or something, and just got completely smashed. But I couldn’t remember a thing about the previous night, the previous
day
(what time of day is it anyway?), let alone how I ended up in this cage. “I… I think I was drugged.”

“
Well,
of course
you were drugged!” barks Phil. “It’s how they get you here, and put you inside these things.” He points at the cage.

“
But why? Are they after money?”

“
Looking for a ransom, that what you’re thinking?” Phil grunts. “And why exactly would anyone pay money to get
you
back, Chrissie-boy? Loaded, are you?”

I hang my head. “No.”

“
Me either. How about you, Jane? Fitness instructor’s pay suddenly gone up by a few million in the last month or so?”

“
Piss off,” says Jane.

Phil grins wearily. “Wish I could, sweetheart. Really wish I could.”

“
So what do you do?” I enquire out of mild curiosity.

“
That’s for me to know and for you to find out.”

“
He works in an estate agents,” Jane informs me.

“
Thanks a bunch,” Phil grumbles.

“
What about you?” I ask Kavi.

“
Aw, who gives a shit,” Phil breaks in before he can answer. “That was in the outside world. In here you’re just another plaything.”

I look again at the empty cage. “Why did they do that? Burn that person up, I mean.”

“
Nick,” Jane says quietly, her eyes glistening. “His name was Nicholas.”

“
They don’t need to give a fucking reason,” Phil explains. “They’ll just come in, douse you with petrol and strike a light.”

“
Phil, please,” begs Jane.

“
Especially if you make a fuss, draw attention to yourself,” he carries on, ignoring her. “Just like Nick did.”

It was Jane’s turn to glare now, at Phil. “He didn’t do anything wrong. He was just––”

“
He asked one too many questions,” Kavi points out, looking at me.

Phil nods in agreement. “Every time they came in, he was at it. What the fuck did he expect?”

“
Come in? Hold on,” I say, switching the subject, “so you
have
seen the people holding us then?”

Phil considers how to answer that one. “They don’t exactly let us get a good look at their faces.”

“
I don’t understand.”

“
You will,” Kavi promises.

“
Nick didn’t do anything wrong,” Jane continues, as if the conversation hasn’t moved on at all. “It wasn’t because of that––they just enjoy it.” Without thinking, her hand goes to her neck and now I see the scar. It’s a fresh one, still quite raw. “They enjoy hurting us.”

“
But why? What could they possibly gain from this? What do they want?”

“
That,” says Kavi, “is precisely what Nick wanted to know.”

Want to keep reading?

Check out the rest of the story here:

PAUL KANE - PAIN CAGES

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