“Like hell.”
It was a good job that dry crackers were the only things George had eaten. Anything else would be on his boots by now. “You need to get that looked at. It won’t be long before it’s septic.”
Shrugging, Ginge lifted the Jerry Can, walked past the women’s truck and placed it next to the wall of them that were already there. Whenever George was outside, he always had half an eye on their supplies. They had enough petrol to last them weeks. They had enough petrol to set half of London on fire. Regardless of this, Dean still sent people out for more.
When Ginge walked back past the cage, he banged his fist against it, sending out a loud rattle. He then blew the women a kiss and thrust his crotch forwards. “Maybe one of you lucky ladies will get to ride this soon.” The ring of his laugh bounced off the walls outside and then up the corridor as he disappeared into the block.
Staring at the door Ginge had just disappeared through, George couldn’t help but imagine the filthy looter kissing one of the women. The cluster of ulcers would no doubt pop like tiny bath pearls. Thick, yellow puss would ooze from his mouth.
When his stomach rolled again, he shook his head.
He needed to get away from this place.
Help
Standing in the tower’s heavy shadow, George looked up at the bright moon. When the cold’s skinny fingers found the gaps in his clothes, he hugged himself in a futile attempt to stay warm.
Looking up at the line of windows along the side of the tower, George saw they were all dark except for Dean’s. Each window was an opportunity for one of Dean’s little minions to watch what was going on below and report it back to him. The building was rammed full of sycophants who would cut their own arm off to gain favor with their master. Although many things had disappeared because of the crash, Big Brother was as strong as ever.
In his previous life as a bouncer, George had spent every shift checking his watch to see when his night would end. The night shift felt much the same except he didn’t have, or care for, a watch. You were done when you were done. That was usually when the sun rose. If Dean liked you, that was. Ravi would always have to do an hour or two more than everyone else. Dean once sent a message around that he should be left until lunch time. As a ‘fuck you’ to Dean, George nearly went down to relieve the boy. Nearly. As always, he chose the coward’s path.
There were at least four hours left before George was relieved of his duty. It would more likely be six. Bouncing on the spot for warmth, he then rubbed his freezing face and turned full circle to see what was happening.
The bright moon allowed him to see as far as the perimeter fence, but beyond that, it was inky black. It was hard to get used to the lack of light in a city where light pollution used to almost banish the moon.
As he stood there, he listened to the rustling of what he assumed were scavenging foxes and the roar of the occasional motorbike or car engine far off in the distance.
With no visual distractions, George had to battle the horror show that was on the periphery of his imagination. The motorbikes were gangs forming. The rustling was them being surrounded. Every sound spiked his pulse. What would he do if a mob bore down on them now?
Several women from the cage coughed, so George turned his attention to them. There was no point in worrying about what he couldn’t control. If they were to be overrun, then they would have to deal with it when it happened.
Standing close together for warmth, the women huddled beneath the blanket and stared out. Thick bags sat beneath sagging eyes on white faces. Liz looked as bad as any of them. A cold chill gripped George. It was like being stared at by a ghost.
Drawing a deep sigh filled George’s sinuses with the reek of smoke. His throat dried, and he scanned his surroundings. Where was it coming from? Were the fires closing in? Would they be able to get out by morning? Taking another deep breath to settle his nerves, George’s lungs were irritated by the reek of burning plastic in the air. He started to cough.
Once George’s coughing fit had passed, he heard stuttered breathing from the women’s truck. Having avoided doing anything other than glancing at the cage until now, he couldn’t ignore the sound. When he looked over, his blood turned cold, and his breath abandoned him. It was the girl that Dean had taken up to his flat.
Moving closer, George saw her battered face. She looked like the elephant woman. One eye was swollen shut, her two front teeth were missing, she had deep weeping bite marks in her cheeks and there was a dark red cigarette burn just beneath her left eye. The stench of excrement caught in George’s throat when he gasped, and he had to chew back his heave. “What the fuck?”
The older, curvy woman from the gated community moved out from under the blanket. Her face twisted as she pointed at him. “You let this happen.”
When George looked at the other women in the truck, he saw they were all staring at him. Those lucid enough had the same narrowed eyes and tight jaws. He looked at Liz. “I…” He then realised that he had nothing to add. The silent rage that came back at him forced him to look away.
Continuing, the curvy woman pointed at George. “They dragged her up to Dean’s flat because of you. They blindfolded her when she was up there.”
The screams from last night came back to him, and his insides shrivelled up. The sounds of the poor girl wailing as a group of men had their way with her echoed through his barren mind.
“She had that many hands pawing at her that she didn’t know how many men were there.” Moving forwards, the curvy woman pushed her round face against the bars. “She didn’t know how many fingers were inside her.”
All George wanted to do was walk away. That would be the easiest option. But he couldn’t. These women didn’t have the choice when things got too hard, so why should he take it? Dropping his head and shoulders, he let her continue.
“She was raped for hours.” There was a growl in her voice when she repeated, “Hours. She was passed between them like an inanimate object that existed purely for their pleasure. They had to carry her back down here because she can’t walk.” Pointing at the girl, broken and curled up on the floor, her red face twisted. “They fucked her so hard that she can’t fucking walk now. Do you understand?”
Grabbing the side of the truck to stop his legs from buckling beneath him, George’s world spun. It was impossible to avoid Liz’s glare, but he quickly moved on to the girl. She looked back at him through distant and bruised eyes. There was no anger. Anger would have been a sign of hope. She had none. George could have freed her. He could have freed them all before this happened.
A softer voice came in, and George looked up to see that it was the girl’s younger sister. Moving from beneath the blanket, she held her hands out in front of her as if praying. “Please help us. Please get us out of here.”
Some of the other women joined in, “Please. Help us.”
All George wanted to do was tell them it would be okay. That he would help them out. But Sally was his number one priority. Whatever happened, he had to make sure that his sister and her baby were taken care of. Bowing his head, he sighed. “You all need to keep the noise down. The last thing you need is Dean hearing you.”
The chin of the young girl dropped, and Liz’s eyes narrowed to slits. Sarah remained on the floor, rocking and staring into space.
Pointing the key at the truck, George unlocked it. Shunk! An orange glow of hazard lights cut through the silent dark. Looking up, George scanned the windows of the tower block. Was anyone there? It looked like the entire place was sleeping. Looks were often deceiving.