She didn't walk anywhere, but turned around slowly as if looking for someone.
Maybe looking for me.
Facing my way, she seemed to stare at me. She probably couldn't see me, though, in the heavy darkness at my end of the cages.
So where's Wesley? I wondered. Up on Billie's cage with the torch, or waiting to jump out of the jungle and take me from behind?
I needed a clear look at the top of her cage.
If I could climb this cage . . .
No. I might've been strong enough to shinny up the bars, but I sure couldn't do it without setting down my spear and machete.
Which weren't going to leave my hands. Not, at least, unless I knew for sure that Wesley wouldn't be jumping me.
Keeping hold of the weapons, I retraced my way into the jungle. In among the bushes and trees, I watched the glow of the torch and took a route parallel to the row of gorilla cages. I stayed far enough back to keep the cages and the blaze of the torch out of sight.
For a while, I planned to sneak in near Billie's cage and try to see if Wesley was on top.
But if I could spot him, he could spot me.
I hit upon a better idea.
Don't look for him -- ask.
Sticking to my route, I continued through the jungle. Past the torchlight. And on, and on, leaving the glow farther and farther behind me.
When I judged that I'd covered enough distance, I started sneaking to the right.
I thought I had probably overshot Erin's cage, and would need to backtrack and search for it. Luck was with me, though. I came out of the jungle behind the middle of her cage.
After a quick look from side to side, I started crawling across the strip of open ground.
Erin didn't seem to be aware of my approach. She stood at the door of her cage. Though she was merely a dim shape in the darkness, she appeared to have her back toward me. Her hands were raised to about the height of her head, and seemed to be gripping the bars of her door.
Pausing, I looked to my right and saw Alice's cage. The girl was hunkered down -- as if cowering or trying to hide -- at the back corner nearest to Erin's cage.
I couldn't see anyone inside Connie's cage. Which was closer to the torchlight, but a fair distance away from me. I figured she must be in it -- just out of sight. Maybe lying down.
The next cage was Kimberly's. The light was better, way over there. Not so much darkness as a shivery glow. What with the distance and my angle, though, I couldn't exactly tell where Connie's cage left off, Kimberly's began or ended, or Billie's began.
Someone seemed to be roaming around down there, in among the contusion of bars. I supposed it must be Kimberly, but I couldn't be sure.
I tried to spot the torch.
Couldn't, though. Not the torch, just its glow.
At the other end of the cages, I'd been a lot closer to it. From my new position, the bright aura of torchlight might've been coming from on top of Kimberly's cage. I figured the torch was probably still above Billie's, though.
Anyway, I stopped inspecting the place and finished crawling across to Erin's cage. When I was almost there, I turned myself sideways. I lay down flat, mashing the tall grass on the ground alongside the bars. The grass was maybe six inches high, so it would help to conceal me. It felt cool and wet. I put the spear and machete by my sides, and propped myself up on my elbows.
Erin still stood at the door of her cage.
I called out to her. It was a whisper, really. She didn't respond, so I whispered her name more loudly. The pale blot of her head jerked. Her hands fell away from the bars. The width of her body narrowed, then widened, as she turned around.
"Erin," I whispered again.
She started walking toward me. She had a slight hitch to her gait -- a limp.
Which gave me a sudden, harsh reminder of what I'd watched them do to her. Wesley and Thelma. In the downstairs room. How they'd brought Erin in wearing a white blouse, a cute tartan kilt, and knee socks. How they'd stripped her, brutalized her, done such horrible, sick things to her . . . All while I watched, guilty and aroused. It made me feel strange, just thinking about it. I had to squirm a little in the dewy grass.
"Rupert?" she whispered.
"Yeah."
She stopped at the bars and lay down on her side of them, matching my position, her head turned, her face close to mine.
"How are you?" she asked.
"Okay. What's going on here?"
"Wesley came."
"Where is he?"
"Up on top of the cages. I think so, anyhow. It's kinda hard to keep track of him all the time."
"Is everybody okay?"
"Rupert?" Alice's voice, her whisper loud.
I turned my head and found her. She was still at the corner of her cage, but no longer in a hunched position. She was poised there on all fours like a dog, her face to the bars. "Don't leave me out of everything," she said.
"You were asleep, anyway," Erin told her.
"Was not."
"We'd better keep our voices down," I said. "Come on," I told Erin. I picked up my two weapons. Then she and I crawled, side by side, the bars between us.
I wished there was more light. I wanted to be able to see her and Alice. But this was better than last time, when the darkness had been almost total. This time, at least I could make out their shapes -- sort of. Basically, they weren't much more than pale blurs without any distinct features.
At the corner of her cage, Erin halted. I crawled around it, turned myself so I faced the rear, put down my spear and machete, and sat in the grass between the two cages.
Alice on my left, Erin on my right.
Like old times, except this time we were gathered at the back of the passageway, not the front.
"I thought you were asleep," I told Alice. That's why I didn't . . ."
"It's okay," she said. "I'm sure glad you're back."
"Is everybody okay?" I asked.
"All depends," Alice said. "What do you . . . ?"
"We're fine," Erin said. "I mean, you know. Not exactly fine and dandy, but we're the same as before."
"He hasn't been at us," Alice explained.
"Where'd you go?"
"Over to the house, for starters. I went looking for the keys, so I could come back and let everybody out."
"Did you find them?" Erin asked.
"Wesley doesn't have them?"
"I don't think so."
"I know he hasn't got them," Alice said.
"Well, he didn't unlock any cages."
"He walked by. You could see what he had and didn't. And he didn't have any keys. Not if they weren't, like, stuck up his kazoo."
"He couldn't fit them up his kazoo," Erin pointed out, sounding a trifle annoyed. "That big brass ring? No way."
"It was a figure of speech, stupid."
"Anyway, I guess she's right. We would've seen the keys if he'd had them."
"What did he have?" I asked.
"A boner," Alice said.
"Very nice," Erin said.
"Well, he did."
"I'm sure Rupert wants to hear all about it."
I was blushing, but the darkness kept it hidden. "What sort of weapons did he have?" I asked.
Erin said, Two knives. Does the torch count?"
"I guess."
"Okay, then the torch. And a can of gas."
"A what?"
"A can of gasoline."
"We keep tons of it around for the generator," Alice explained.
"For a lot of things," Erin added.
"Mostly for the generator, though. We've got tons."
"Wesley has about two gallons," Erin said. "He took the can up with him."
"He says he's gonna incinerate us," Alice said.
Me And The Twins
"He won't do it," Erin said. "It's just a threat. If he burns us up, he won't be able to mess around with us any more. It'd wreck everything for him."
"Yeah? Well just suppose he only burns some of us?"
Erin didn't have a quick answer for that.
"He's already doused Billie," Alice added.
I felt my stomach sink and shrivel. "Are you sure?"
"It was the first thing he did," Erin explained. "He showed up, I don't know, like maybe an hour or so after you took off? With the torch and gas."