As the assault continued, Lisa had feigned unconsciousness for what felt like hours. When the man in the hood was finished raping Debbie, he turned her over and did something to her that seemed to shatter the effects of the drug. Lisa had never heard anybody scream in pain the way Debbie screamed. The screaming went on for a while and was punctuated by wet slapping sounds. When Debbie began to vomit, the hooded man left the room and the blond man stopped filming and the three of them left. They returned some time later-thirty minutes? An hour? lvo hours? — and resumed the rape and torture session. All of their attention was riveted on Debbie Martinez; they seemed to have totally forgotten that Lisa Miller was even there.
They hardly spoke at all during the ordeal. The few times words were spoken was the blond man instructing the man in the hood-Animal-to perform various sex acts on Debbie or hurt her in some way-bite her tits, cut her with that knife, bum her with that cigarette, fist-fuck her ass, strangle her just short of passing out then let her breathe-whatever. Tim said nothing during the ordeal; his sweaty features were riveted to the scene, his breathing-harsh and panting.
Only once did Animal speak. He told Debbie that he had been wanting to fucking torture her ass and stick it to her' for a long time now. Ever since he had laid eyes on her.
Somehow, Lisa managed to suffer through the ordeal of listening to Debbie Martinez being brutalized while she cowered in the corner, trying to drown out what was happening. For the first time since her ordeal, the thought of the fetus in her womb didn't come up. It's never going to be, she had thought, her heart heavy with sadness. Brad and I aren't going to have our baby, we'll never get the chance to make a baby again, because when they're finished with Debbie they're going to do the same to me.
Lisa didn't know if Debbie was dead or alive until the three men left. She heard them packing the camera and lighting gear up, and she heard the blond guy ask,'Is it okay if we leave that one here until tomorrow or the next day?'
Tim answered: "Yeah, she'll be fine. I left some food for her.'
Then they left.
Lisa waited until the sound of the engine had receded down the dirt driveway, and then she got up and went to check on Debbie.
Debbie was unconscious; her face was horribly bruised and swollen. Her nose was crushed, flattened against her face amid a gout of gore; her bottom lip was split by a great gash that would scar badly even if it was treated correctly. A great amount of blood had spurted from her nose and drenched her face and upper body, mixing with the blood from the other wounds Animal had ravaged on her. Carved into her belly were the words SLUT and CUNT. The blood had clotted, making the words one jumbled mass. Lisa had put a hand to her face to stifle a cry, but had been unable to. The tears sprang fresh and unbidden from some untapped well deep within her. She knelt down beside Debbie's tortured body and cried.
Debbie was alive at least, but it was hard to make out the damage. From what Lisa could tell, there were the wounds to her face and stomach, as well as further cuts to her breasts, back, and thighs; most of the cuts needed stitches. She had numerous bite marks on her body, some bad enough to pierce the skin and draw blood, and it looked like her left nipple was almost chewed off. Her vagina was swollen, bruised, and bleeding; her anus was dilated horribly and was bleeding steadily, clotted with feces. The mattress was drenched with blood, vomit, saliva, feces, piss, and semen. Probably the most damaging wounds were those that Debbie would suffer in her mind. Lisa tended to Debbie's wounds in a daze, knowing that she needed professional medical attention. Somehow she leaned Debbie up as best she could and stopped the bleeding.
When Debbie came back to consciousness later that night, she screamed so shrilly it chilled Lisa to the bone.
By sunrise this morning, Monday, Debbie was catatonic. She had lain on her back on the bed, her once beautiful brown eyes now reduced to a muddy, vacant stare as they gazed up at the cracked ceiling. Her lips were dry and chapped, and she didn't even try to wipe away the snot that pooled out of her nose. Animal's attack had shattered her, the next one would probably kill her.
Lisa had inspected herself in the bathroom mirror. Aside from the shocked expression on her face and the red in her eyes, she looked fine.
She hoped that taking it easy last night would calm the sick feeling in her stomach, and it did. This morning she felt better, and she was able to think more clearly. After cleaning Debbie's wounds with a towel and some warm water this morning, she had eaten one of the sandwiches and a banana, drank some water, then tried to get Debbie to eat something. The woman ignored the food, her eyes staring somewhere past her. Maybe later.
She had spent the next two hours in the living room, as far as the chain would allow her. She sat on the floor, her back against the wall, watching the sun rise higher in the sky. She checked on Debbie occasionally, and for a while briefly debated another escape plan. She looked at the nightstand and once again thought about whether to use it as a weapon the next time they came back. She had nothing to lose.
She sighed and looked at the food, which she had placed just outside the bedroom. They were down to one sandwich now and half a bag of chips. Lisa had eaten a sandwich for breakfast and had tried to get Debbie to eat something, but the woman wouldn't eat. She wondered how long Tim intended to keep her and Debbie prisoner here. The next time they came would probably be to film the completion of Debbie's torture and murder. Would they commence filming her own murder shortly after? Or would she get another short reprieve?
Lisa went into the bedroom and tried to get Debbie to eat again, but she still refused. Debbie Martinez was still in a dazed, catatonic state, her muddy brown eyes staring vacantly at the wall. Lisa checked her wounds, then went back to her spot outside the bedroom. She ate the rest of the potato chips and chased them with the rest of the water from her Evian bottle. They were down to five bottles of water now, enough to last a while, but not forever. It was the food she was more worried about now.
Just then, as if in answer to her concerns, the sound of a van pulled up in the driveway.
Twelve
They didn't venture immediately into the cabin.
Apparently, on the drive up a heated discussion had commenced.
"So what the fuck are we supposed to do with this Debbie bitch?" It sounded like the blond guy. "I mean, Animal went fucking nuts on her, so yeah, of course I'm gonna film the shit. That was the best shit I've gotten on film in a long time, and we can probably finish it today. What I want to know is what are you gonna do when the bitch is dead?"
"I'll get rid of her," Tim said. They were slowly walking up the walkway to the front door. "Don't worry. I found a new spot two weeks ago. We can get rid of her easy there. But we got to do it soon, like tonight. Neal hasn't cruised by yet, so as long as he don't come up, nobody will know'
Lisa listened, her heart pounding hard as she listened. Debbie moaned on the bed, raising gooseflesh along Lisa's arm. The men had stopped outside the front door, their voices lowering somewhat, but still audible. `What about this fucking place?" The blond guy was saying. "When you told meyou had a new place, you didn't tell me it was in the center of where every fucking California yuppie flocks for their summer homes. What is this shit?"
*Nobody will know anything; Tim said, trying to calm the blond guy down. "Sam Bash made the arrangements. His name isn't attached to it at all, and neither is ours. Nobody will know anything. We'll just use the same tarp we rolled over the floor and roll both bodies into it when we're done and dump them. Then we got two films ready to go. That's some extra cash there."