“Where’s the key?”
“In the lock.”
“Bullshit. You’re a fucking liar.” Sweat glimmered on his balding head. It seemed he didn’t know what he wanted to do. Licked his lips, head jerking, scanning the room. At least thirty people—women, former guards, all prisoners now—glowered back. But he had the guns.
“Everyone sit down! Not you,” he told Zoey.
She stood defiantly, despite her watery legs and a stomach trying to empty itself of everything she had ever eaten.
“Wait! You—kick that gun over here.”
Claudia did as he instructed and the gun spun near his feet.
“This is priceless,” he said, running his hand over his slick scalp. “Do you have any idea what we’re going to do to you?”
“Some idea. You goddamned coward. All of you are shit!”
The stunned look on his face was priceless, would be forever etched in Zoey’s memory. “Keep talking, bitch. You’re making it worse.”
He picked up the gun Claudia had kicked over, restored the safety, and tucked the spare weapons into his belt. “You—” He pointed at Claudia “You look good and strong.
Come here.”
Claudia stuck her tongue in her cheek and approached him.
“Pick that up.” The mallet. She did as he said.
“You—Zoey. Lay down. Right here.”
This didn’t look good. No, this was a fucking mess. She lifted her hands, protesting. He raised the gun and pointed it at her head. The room was spinning… jagged shards of light stabbed her eyes. Her legs turned to mush. Slowly, she lowered herself to the floor and lay down.
He pointed the gun at Claudia’s head. “Break her leg. Right below the knee.”
The mallet slipped, almost fell from Claudia’s hands.
“Do it! If you disobey me, you won’t be able to imagine what I’ll do to you.”
Her complexion was ashy. “I can’t…”
He pulled the hammer back on the gun, pointed it at her. “Oh, you can’t?”
Claudia raised the mallet.
He stepped back, gun aimed at her head.
Claudia sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Zoey!” She raised the mallet two-fisted over her head.
Zoey squeezed her eyes shut, waited for the unimaginable pain
Crack! She opened them again when she felt nothing.
Her tormentor was on his knees, blood tricking down his scalp.
Behind him stood Kim, sporting a metal pipe in both hands, chest heaving, spattered blood freckling her face.
“Oh, Jesus,” Zoey muttered, shaking so badly she couldn’t move.
Claudia grabbed the three guns from his belt and from where he had dropped one. Kim knelt beside Zoey, helped her sit up. She threw her arms around Kim’s neck and sobbed.
Claudia shut the door. The room exploded in cheers. “Where’s that fat fuck’s gun?” she said, heading toward Serge’s body.
“I forgot about you, Kim.” Behind her, people were carefully lowering a crucified Tamara to the floor.
“Where were you? Why didn’t they find you?” Zoey asked.
“I hid beneath the rack, right below that asshole. The guys came in and untied him, but he was a babbling mess. He barely knew where he was, never mind me. And those guys are so strung out on god-knows-what they didn’t remember who they’d left behind.”
“Where did you find the pipe?” Zoey asked, testing its weight in her hands, avoiding the smear of blood decorated with flecks of scalp.
“Upstairs. I went looking for you and found that guy instead. Your handiwork I presume? I saw what was happening down here and looked for a weapon.”
Claudia returned. “We’ve got five guns. Not too bad. And we’re slowly eliminating those scumbags. How many are left?”
“Four or five I think,” Zoey said. “And five down so far.”
“Five?”
“These two, two in the room where they had Tamara, Jess, and Kim, and one upstairs in observation. I took care of that one. I think nine came in originally, right?”
Claudia nodded. “I think it was nine, maybe ten.”
“Any chance they have guards posted upstairs?” Zoey asked.
“Not likely,” Claudia said. “There wouldn’t be a need for guards, right? These cocky bastards probably figured they were just dealing with a group of women and a handful of unarmed guards. Nothing they couldn’t handle.”
She turned to the former guards, who were huddled in a corner, wisely staying out of Zoey’s way. “How do we get out of this place?”
Chapter 16
Larry—whose name they learned after checking his wallet—was dragged to the rack and strapped down. After half a dozen cranks he began to scream, so someone stuffed a shirt in his mouth to gag him.
“They’re taking too long to eat,” Claudia said. She crossed her arms and rubbed her shoulders, her teeth chattering. “They should have been back by now.”
“We need to send someone to check,” Zoey said.
Kim shook her head. “Too dangerous. If someone goes out there, she could get caught.”
“Ideas then?” Zoey glanced around the room. Even the badly injured seemed excited, alive. Tamara had been removed from the cross, her horrible wounds bandaged as best as possible by Marie, a doctor before she was kidnapped. The first-aid kit was now empty. Everywhere around the room women sported bandages, antiseptic, and burn cream.
“I can listen at the door. See if anyone’s coming. We should have someone there anyway,” Kim said.
Zoey nodded.
“Let’s talk to the guards,” Claudia said, pushing her hair behind her ears.
The guards were the lesser of two evils and were still regarded with disdain. Untying them hadn’t seemed like a good idea, so they left their hands bound.
“Quiet everyone,” Zoey said. Conversations stopped. “Kim’s going to guard the door, to see if they’re coming back. That means the door will be open, so everyone has to keep real quiet.”
The guards cowered when Zoey and Claudia approached them. James was conscious now, blinking dried blood off his lashes, his eyes so swollen they barely opened.
“How do we get out of here?” Claudia asked the guards. “Where’s the exit?”
Heads bowed, turned away. One cleared his throat. Nobody was volunteering information.
“Goddammit,” Claudia snapped. “Don’t you get it? This is over. We’re not your prisoners anymore. Now tell us how to get out if this fucking hellhole.”
Robin, former-prisoner-turned-guard, the one who had raped Zoey with a nightstick, scowled and snapped her hair out of her eyes. “It doesn’t work that way.”
“What way?” Zoey asked, aching to kick her, punch her, anything. “What are you talking about?”
“You’ll never get past Zack,” Robin said. “He’s a goddamned drug lord, for Christ’s sake. And if by some miracle you do, we’ll all be in trouble. You’ll go to the cops.”
“I got news for you, sweetheart,” Claudia said, prodding her with her bare foot. “I am the cops. You kidnapped, raped, and tortured a cop. Have any idea what they’ll do to you in prison? If you make it to prison.”
Zoey elbowed her. “You’re not helping, here…” But she smiled, knowing that Robin probably wouldn’t have said anything helpful anyway.
“Look, guys, there’s only one way we’ll survive this, and that’s through the exit. In case you haven’t noticed, you’re mixed up in all of this, too. You think they’ll just let you walk out of here?”
“Sure,” Tony said. Dried blood was smeared across his lip. “They won’t do anything to us. They know we can’t turn them in. What would we say to the cops? That the men we brought in to rape the women we’d already kidnapped turned on us? That’d go over well.”
“Are you kidding?” Zoey said. “Look at yourselves. You really think you would have survived this? They can’t take any chance of one of you squealing. Look what they did to James.”