“Jess, tie him down.”
His wrists and ankles were secured, and he screamed into the gag.
Zoey rushed to the front of the room, Tamara directly behind her. “We’ll have to do this again in a minute. Kill the lights and—”
But Pete burst into the room.
“Kurt! Kurt! Guess what I found! Bloody rags, and a toilet full of—”
For a moment nobody moved. Just stared at one another in shock, until Pete broke the freeze.
“Ah, shit!” he said, reaching for the gun jutting from his waistband.
Zoey attacked, slamming into the wall, pinning him back. He recovered quickly and yanked the gun out of his pants. She grabbed his wrist, and they struggled for control.
Tamara charged his legs, knocking him off balance. The gun flew out of his hand and clattered out of reach on the floor. He lost his footing and landed hard on his ass, grunting.
Tamara pounced, flying through the air like some overgrown trapeze artist and landed solidly on his stomach, every drop of air squeezed out of his lungs, all two hundred fifty plus pounds pinning him down. His hands slammed the floor, punched violently at her as he frantically tried to draw a breath. She pressed harder, not allowing him the luxury of air.
His skin tone changed from magenta to eggplant to grayish blue. Even after it was apparent he was dead, she wouldn’t get up.
“Way to go,” Zoey said, grinning. “You can get up, Tamara. He’s dead.”
“I-I can’t,” she said, voice quivering. Her T-shirt had ridden up, exposing fleshy, cocoa butt cheeks. “I’m shaking too much.”
“Okay then, take it easy.” She closed the door, looked back. “You gonna fuck him or what?”
Tamara coughed, slowly rolled off his corpse.
Across the room, Jessica was tightening the tension on the rack restraints. Zoey remembered a story she’d heard as a child, about a demented family that lived in the woods and would capture wayward travelers wandering the dusty back road. The traveler would be tested on the rack. If his limbs were too long, they would chop pieces away until he was a perfect fit. If he was too short, his arms and legs were stretched, tearing from his body, until he became the perfect length for the rack. The rare, lucky man was the one who was already the perfect length, and they would let him go.
Kurt screamed as his wrists were stretched to agonizing lengths. Screams that were muffled by the gag and rose up from his throat. Movement had become agony, so he stopped thrashing.
“Want me to sit on that asshole, too?” Tamara asked.
“No,” Jessica said. “This one’s mine.” She fondled his swollen testicles and then squashed them, her face reddening with the strain.
Tears streamed out of his eyes.
Tamara struggled to her feet and yanked her T-shirt over her ample frame. “‘One more turn of the rack, baby.’ Isn’t that what you said to me before, asshole?” She hovered over him, spit in his face.
He sobbed, turned his head from side to side, eyes pleading.
Jessica cranked the handle, having to use her body to propel it. One more powerful jerk and they heard a pop! and saw his shoulder dislocate. The ruptured testicle was the least of his problems. Tiny blood vessels exploded on his cheeks, his red face tinged with blue, every muscle in his neck corded.
“Now what?” Tamara asked.
“We’ve got guns,” Zoey said. “Let’s use them.”
Chapter 13
Forming a plan was next to impossible because they didn’t know what they were up against. Didn’t know where the other men were, what they were doing.
The four women sat propped beside or against the closed door because it didn’t lock, and they didn’t need any more surprises.
“Been a long time now," Tamara said. “Someone’s bound to come by to see what’s going on.”
“That’s true,” Zoey said. She’d started bleeding again and was using Pete’s shirt to staunch the flow. “I doubt they’ll come one at a time. We’re not that lucky. Hey, when you guys were in the cafeteria, how many of them were there?”
“Eight, maybe more.” Jessica sighed, massaging her temples. “And they all had guns.”
Kim yawned, stretched. “Sorry I missed all the fun tonight. Wish I could have seen you all in action.”
“You were really out of it, baby,” Tamara said, rubbing Kim’s shoulder.
“I thought I was going to die. It was impossible to breathe. These guys aren’t fooling around.
“You have a plan, Zoey?” Jessica asked.
“I was thinking about the observation room above Room Two.” Zoey picture the layout and tried to imagine a way down the endless corridor to reach the stairwell to the observation room. “They seem to be gathered there. But that door’s usually locked.”
“They unlocked everything,” Tamara said. “Most of the doors are open. They must know what’s up there. They’re probably using it. They had video equipment, and that’s a perfect spot to shoot from.”
“That’s our best chance,” Zoey said.
“If you get caught up there, you’re trapped. No way out, probably.” Kim’s voice was weak.
“You can say that about any area down here. No place is safe. Sitting in here ain’t safe.” Tamara stood, went to check on Kurt tied to the rack. He’d stopped struggling a while ago and emitted a constant low-grade whine.
“Here’s my idea,” Zoey said. “Kim stays and rests. She’s no use to us right now.”
Kim opened her mouth but Zoey shook her head. “They nearly killed you, Kim, and you’re too out of it to go hunting. I’ll take a gun and see if I can get upstairs. Tamara, Jessica, you stay here and try to handle whatever comes through that door.”
“Uh-uh, I’ll go with you,” Tamara said. “You might need help.”
“Kim needs help right now. And Jessica won’t be ale to handle the men by herself. We really can’t use the guns, unless we have no choice. Gunshots would bring them running, and then we’re dead for sure.”
Tamara sat beside them, crossed her thick legs at the ankles, and pulled her T-shirt over her knees.
Jessica looked from Kurt to Pete and then back to the women. “If those guys see this, we’re all dead.”
No one responded. Zoey imagined they were all experiencing the same fear and dread that consumed her. “Let’s go,” Zoey said, getting up. “Let’s do this.”
Kim leaned against the wall, doubled over. Tamara led her to the corner of the room and made her lie down.
“Be on alert,” Zoey said. The gun felt massive, and it scared her. She’d never held one before. Living in New York City, she’d never had the need for one. Pistol permits were nearly impossible to get unless you had a dangerous, high profile job, one where you needed security. As a computer technician, there wasn’t much reason for her to own a gun.
“Safety off,” Jessica said, pointing at the pistol. “Otherwise you won’t get far.”
“Safety?” Zoey studied the firearm, had no clue where the safety was.
Jessica pointed it out. “It’s a Beretta. Slide that back. Cock the hammer, aim and shoot. Simple.”
Zoey smiled, rolled her eyes. “Yes, simple. Sure. Piece of cake.” She tossed Pete’s bloody shirt on his corpse. She rested against the door for a moment, building courage to turn the knob, to take that first step outside the security blanket of the room.
She nodded once, peered into the hall. Empty.
The stairwell leading to the observation area was at the far end of the hall, above Room Two, about thirty feet away. Took that first step out, her toes touching the cold tiles. Slowly at first, she walked past open doors that revealed nothing but dark, gaping maws. Moved faster, feet slapping, sounding like thunderclaps in the stillness of the corridor.