She shook her head, pushing the memory away, staggering momentarily at the disorienting vision. She couldn't afford to lose focus like that. She deliberately slowed her breathing, unclenching her fist with the other hand, massaging the spasmed muscles. It was over. She'd had her revenge. He was dead.
A train gave an electric whine as it ran along the bankedup tracks behind the estate. The normality of the sound helped to steady her. She'd seen Gina in a corridor; a two-second conversation. They'd exchanged addresses. When Gina told her it was an industrial estate, Alex questioned her, but there was no time. They'd been separated and she'd not seen her again.
And here it was, except it wasn't here any more. No one had done anything industrial here for quite a while. The buildings were derelict, some of them half demolished, others cracked and vandalised, sprayed with tags and slogans. She navigated through the piles of broken bricks and half-burned timber and came to the building she was looking for.
She turned around slowly, looking for signs of life. A siren wailed distantly, seagulls flapped their lazy way across the overcast sky. What a dump. Had Gina come back here? Is this what she found? Except this wasn't recent, so maybe she was here after all. She looked up at the green slime running down the walls under the broken gutters, the way the rubble had sunk and settled, the big patches of nettles and bramble — all this happened ages ago.
She worked her way around the nettles to the side door. Someone had kicked it in, probably looking to see if there was anything left to steal. Alex couldn't see what the attraction was, but she squeezed past onto the factory floor beyond. It looked like a film set, one of those abandoned warehouses where they stage shoot-outs and blast all the windows out, except that the windows were wire-reinforced and simply sagged where they cracked. No film crews here. Hey, perhaps that was what she should do — go and find a film crew and make herself useful. She could be an extra, or an actress even. She smiled and shook her head.
She reached the end of the gallery and wandered up the stairs, wary of rats and pigeons. Nothing to scavenge here, though, so she was probably OK. The floor above was the same — cracked glass and scuffed concrete. She went up another level, and here there were signs of habitation. Someone had put up plastic sheets against the light. The gallery was striped with long slivers of sunlight which only intensified the shadows. In the dimness a mattress was laid against the wall. Surely Gina wasn't meaning this?
She walked forward, keeping near the windows where the light was better. "Gina?" Her voice sounded hollow in the dark. "Gina, it's Lexie. You remember?"
There was a scuffle in the shadows. Something moved. Maybe she was here after all?
"We ain't had this good luck in a loooong time." The voice was male.
"I'm looking for Gina," Alex called out. "Is she here? Do you know where she is?"
"Ain't no Gina here, sweetness," another voice, also male. Alex backed towards the stairs but a shadow separated from the dark and moved between her and the exit.
"I'm just looking for my friend," she said, glancing between them. "I don't want trouble."
"Ain't no trouble here, we all welcome, sugar." They moved apart, spreading out to form a half-circle around her. Alex backed towards the window. She reached behind her and tugged the plastic sheet. It slid down behind her.
They squinted against the light. "That's a shame," said the one with the gang-pattern in his buzz cut. "You seen our faces now, and we ain't happy with no witness."
"I didn't see anything," she said. "There's nothing to tell."
"It's not what you seen," said the one with the diamond earstud between her and the stairs, "It's what you gonna see."
To her left, the guy with the buzz cut grabbed her handbag. She shrieked and held the strap for a moment, but had to let go or be dragged towards him. He laughed, and then turned the bag upside down and emptied it on the concrete in front of her.
"You ain't got no money," he kicked through her make-up, the hair clip, the half-eaten bar of chocolate and the plasters she'd stolen. "She gonna have to find some other way to pay," he said to the others.
"You leave me alone," she warned, her fists bunched.
"Oh, come on sweetness. Give it up for us and we'll treat you nice?"
"You better leave me alone. You don't want to…"
A shadow moved in behind her. She glanced around and met a fist coming the other way. Her face made a sound like a pile of wet meat hitting a slab and she flew backwards. Bright flashes trailed across her vision and she felt suddenly sick. Her mouth tasted thick with blood. She opened her eyes to the glare from the windows above her. Buzz-cut was holding her hands above her head while the others pulled off her clothes. She had been thrown on the mattress which they must have pulled out towards the windows
"Let me go! You bastards!"
She kicked and struggled against their grip. Her shouts were mumbled where the punch had swollen her lip. She wrenched at her wrists, but Ear-stud had his weight on them and his grip was like iron. He just laughed down at her and tried to lean down for a lewd kiss. She twisted her head aside as her skirt was pulled down off her legs.
"Get off me! Help! Help me!" she hollered.
Her shouting and squirming only seemed to excite them more. They grabbed her ankles, tugging off her shoes. One with knife scars all down his arm took handfuls of her top and ripped it open down the front. She screamed as they pulled the sleeves off one arm and then the other, ripping it off her.
"That was my best… you've torn my best…" she was crying and kicking, and at the same time couldn't get her breath. Arm-scar struggled to tear her bra apart, but the elastic proved more resilient and wouldn't tear. Eventually he just pulled the clasp apart at the back, pulling it up her arms and off while Ear-stud held her down.
Arm-scar pinched her nipple hard. She spat at him, but he just smiled. "This is the best bit. I love this bit." He grabbed her knickers and yanked them down in a single swipe. There was a moment of silence as Alex lay in shocked nakedness.
"You a peach, Babe." Arm-scar stood, staring down at her, while the other two grabbed her ankles and braced themselves against the mattress, stretching her wide. She watched in stunned fascination as he dropped his pants and pulled a huge erect penis out of his boxers.
"Is it your first time, sweetness? I'll make it good for you." He grinned, flashing brown-stained teeth. Alex heaved against her captors, but they had her all stretched out. He knelt down between her legs.
"Nooooo!"
Her cry was echoed by a low moan from the structure of the building. Something tinkled to the floor along the gallery. A slow ticking started in the pipes where they criss-crossed the ceiling. Arm-scar glanced up and then back at her.
He shook his head, refusing to be distracted. "Ain't no one gonna save you now, Peach."
A sound like popping valves travelled down the gallery towards them. The fire suppression system sprayed out where it ran through the network of pipes across the ceiling. Freezing cold water rained down on them all, to the shouts and calls of the men.
Arm-scar looked up into water raining down on them, and then down at Alex. "Makes no difference to me. A wet peach is still a peach."
"You don't understand," said Alex, through gritted teeth. "But you will."
Heads turned as the water started running across the floor towards them. Drops gathered into pools and pools ran into rivulets. It gathered into a wave that swept across the floor and crashed over the mattress.